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#it’s just. incomprehensible to me. why would someone want that
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Neil Gaiman got together with her when she was in her thirties though?
I am aware. It’s not really a genuine moral failing, it’s just something that weirds me out on a personal level. Hence why I just mentioned it in the tags.
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elainemorisi · 2 years
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why does my house have a (full!) bathroom on the floor with no bedroom and a (large!!) bedroom on the floor with no bathroom. aaaaaaaarg
#these being the 2nd and basement floors#so also obnoxiously difficult to renovate!#(2nd being the top/roof/attic)#iteration 2324 of my immense griping about the general incomprehensibility of non-romantic companionship: built environment flavor#this goddamn house has the goddamn space and the goddamn rooms for another goddamn adult who I am not GODDAMN FUCKING#but just didn't care to put those goddamn rooms near one another why on earth#what suburban use for a FULL BATH IN THE BASEMENT is there#(that is half the ire; if it were just a toilet it at least wouldn't be taunting me like this)#it's a fully submerged basement this isn't some half-finished walkout mother in law suite#let us all once again sing the cheery tune#'why on earth have we decided to tie fucking somebody to all this other unrelated shiiiiiit'#'at least when it was a logical part of the business arrangement there was a reaaaasooooon'#I like that fine! I like romantic relationships fine!#I do not like pursuing them for the sake of actually fully unrelated life goals that feels incredibly disgusting and I won't do it!#(not like morally on a grand scale... ish. like if someone WANTS a romantic partner who is also all the other kinds of partner god bless#I'm fully agnostic on that matter so the idea of dating because I want a roommate is just urg. creeps me the hell out#not as bad as the last iteration of this problem of course which would've been dating because I want a kid. but still bad!)#and I want a roommate damnit :(#but I sure would like to be able to provide them with a reasonably separate personal space too but ALAS
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random percy headcanons:
wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.
literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck
his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)
he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it
will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs
the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.
he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it
percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao
back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone
has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on
weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like
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shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao
bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺
can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao
gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.
movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(
percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake
he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it
has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks
grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic
has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.
he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao
he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence
called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week
the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured
has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him
he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.
he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class
currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!
its his birthday<3
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arminsumi · 6 months
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First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?
Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!
LET ME MARRY YOU
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."
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2k
Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything
Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open
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The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.
What if something happens to you?
He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.
There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.
That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;
I want to marry you.
I'm going to marry you.
Please let me be your husband one day.
As if he's trying to manifest it.
Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.
It's October 11th.
Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.
He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.
He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.
He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.
He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.
But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.
He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.
Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.
Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.
The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.
"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.
He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.
His earthly goddess.
The purpose of his benevolent actions.
He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.
It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.
Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."
He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.
It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.
"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"
"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.
It's a stark bright day.
Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.
You open it.
He looks at you, and you look at him.
"Hi."
"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"
Your voice fills his heart with life.
"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."
"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."
Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.
There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.
"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.
"I'll always find my way home."
A silence ensues after he says this.
"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."
"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."
"... me too."
"... why did you leave?"
He stares at you.
"... I was scared of you being in danger."
He gulps.
"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."
Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...
"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."
"... yeah, duh."
He smiles meekly.
It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.
He hesitates. He contemplates.
"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"
"Of course. What is it?"
He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.
Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.
But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.
Let him just...
"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."
"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"
"Can I?"
"... what?"
"Can I please?"
"... huh??"
"Can I marry you, please?"
He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.
Can he? Will you let him?
It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.
"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.
He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."
"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."
You make him laugh. "Yeah..."
"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"
"No."
"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."
You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.
"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."
"You're damn right..."
"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."
"Satoru."
"Yes?"
His heart throbs. He looks at you.
"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."
"Oh."
You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.
So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.
"I'm sorry."
Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.
"My angel..."
When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.
He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.
Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.
Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.
"...Satoru?"
"Marry me."
You chuckle again.
"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.
He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.
"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."
On the verge of saying your name.
He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.
"Will you think about it?"
"I will."
There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.
"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."
"That took you, like, ten seconds."
You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"
He's silent.
"I have no idea."
"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.
His heart flutters at 'future husband'.
"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."
The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.
In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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moncherellie · 5 months
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giving loser!ellie head for the first time
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a/n: wrote this a while ago but since i havent put anything out in a bit, figured this would suffice. inspired by that one twt video...
content/warnings: 886 words, gn reader, cunnilingus (e receiving, r giving), ellie's first time, fingering
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eating loser!ellie out is a religious experience
you blow lightly, the cold sting making ellie's legs shudder. it’s her first time having someone go down on her, and you think it’s a fucking shame. every other girl must be blind to not want this sensitive, soaked pussy that clenches around nothing.
then again, you’re glad nobody else has done this for her, because you have the privilege of being first. thank god for that, you think, because you don’t want anyone else to get this kind of perfect view.
closest to you is her clit, puffy and pink with arousal. your eyes gaze next to the trail of neatly-trimmed hair leading up to her navel. just earlier, you’d teased her, licking down that line as she squealed and put her head in her hands. you’d just laughed. “i’ve never been touched there-"
she’d never been touched anywhere. it’s why she was so ecstatic every time you laid a hand on her. originally, you’d thought ellie was just introverted. that she didn’t like anybody touching her.
and then you’d learned she didn’t dislike your touch- on the contrary, she fucking loved it. she loved it so much she had to shy away from it, otherwise her clit would throb and she'd feel the familiar wet spot grow in her panties and her mind would start to wander and think of that time you bent down in front of her in that tiny, slutty skirt and-
ellie shakes again, face flushing the prettiest scarlet you've ever seen. it brings out the ambers and forest greens of her eyes. you lick a stripe up her entrance and she brings both hands up to clutch her face.
"oh shit- oh fuck, oh my god. holy-" her reactions are so cute that you almost feel bad for laughing at her so much, but the embarrassment she gets from it all is just too delicious to stop.
you pinch her clit in between two fingers and her hips jump up into your face. you suck harder and she yelps- is it mean? maybe. but you can tell that even though she's sensitive and nearly overstimulated, she feels amazing.
as your tongue continues its assault on her, she begins to move away. you know it's purely reflex, but you're persistent. ellie, despite being so sensitive, hasn't cum yet and you desperately need her to. when she props herself on her elbows and begins to throw her body backwards to try to shy from your touch, your arms hook around her thighs, encasing her. she can't get away, and this position allows your hands to further spread her open.
"pleasepleaseplease babe, come on, be nice to me." she rambles. despite her pleas, she was just as desperate as you, eagerly wanting to come undone on your tongue. knowing this, you don't repent.
she's still on her elbows, eyes transfixed on the way your mouth fucks her, how you look just as pleased as she does, like she's the best meal you've had. it very well might be, you think. her noises turn incomprehensible. you can make out vague "please"s and "fuck"s, but other than that, she's fully gone. ellie's breath is heavy and shallow. you hope this is a sign that's she about to finish.
your feel her clit twitch on your tongue, and you realize that, yes, she's getting closer. you speed up and ellie starts to thrash around. you look up at her, making eye contact, and she moans, throwing herself back against the bed. "babe, please! fuck- oh shit-!"
ellie's movements become more violent and you let go of her for a moment. she whines, thinking you're stopping to punishing her for being so defiant. as you lean back and sit on your legs, she begins to stutter out an apology that's cut off when you grip her waist and pull her up towards your mouth.
your lips start their assault again. ellie's legs are over your shoulders and her hips are elevated above the bed, allowing you to get into just the right angle that makes her scream. she grinds herself against your face and lets out more indistinguishable noises that you can only assume is ellie begging you to stop, but the way she pushes herself further into you, grinding her clit on your tongue, is telling you something different.
she squeals and you laugh into her cunt, sending vibrations through her body. the way she clenches tightly around your face, clamps down, and all but screams your name tells you that she's about to cum.
"fuck, oh fuck, please- please! a little more i'm almost- i'm so close to- haaaaah!" she finishes with a loud groan that fizzles out into pants. you fuck her through it, tongue slowing down as her head lolls to the side. her eyes are crossed and her legs shake slightly as you pull off of her, putting her thighs on the bed.
you kiss her forehead and she smiles softly. "you did so good for me, els. how was that?"
she grins cheekily, heavily lidded eyes focusing on you now. she bites her lip when she sees the gleaming slick covering your lips.
"it was fucking amazing, is what is was. you think i can do that to you sometime?"
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my masterlist
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hanafubukki · 7 months
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Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic (after some time has passed that is) or can be read as a stand-alone.
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“Leave me alone human!”
“For someone who is chained to the ground and gravely injured, you’re pretty loud.”
“I’ll rip you from limb to limb.”
“Why don’t you get better first before we get there hmm?”
General Lilia Vanrouge screeched at you in the fae language, some of which you knew were curses. Ah yes, you can’t wait to make fun of your Lilia when you get back to your time. His cursing while playing video games had you easily recognizing some of them now.
Luckily for you and your ears, the General wore himself out. The wounds from the iron and those of the battles weakened him.
It didn’t help that he also had a fever as a result. You were put in this cell to help him recover. Humpty Dumpty- well, King Henrik, implied it was the least you could do.
A random human that was pick up by his men, who was using valuable resources that could go to his soldiers instead. Never mind the fact that you helped treat said soldiers and gather said resources.
The Knight of Dawn had clenched his fist, about to speak up on your behalf. But you simply grabbed his hand and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. King Henrik would just make his life harder for talking back, and you didn’t want that. The Knight of Dawn dealt with enough, you didn’t want to add onto his troubles.
…But you also didn’t realize that meant staying locked up in this cell with General Lilia Vanrouge either.
The General wasn’t exactly happy when he first met you, and you couldn’t blame him. You just weren’t used to the open hatred from familiar eyes you would see everyday. Eyes that were always friendly to you, now burned you.
The first time you tried to provide him treatment, he had fought back until his wounds weakened him to an unconscious state. You had silently treated him then. Not a soul a witness to your tears.
As the weeks passed, the General gradually stopped fighting back, probably due to his weakening state…it didn’t shut his mouth though funny enough.
You were only let out for a change of clothes, a bath, a proper meal, and a bed to sleep in every few days. Even then, King Henrik made it seem as if that was too good for you.
You later found out it was due to the Knight of Dawn’s request that you were even allowed such accommodations. Your heart ached at the idea of what he must have gone through to get you this, as you knew King Henrik did not treat him well.
You breathed softly, you wished you could return home soon.
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You were dressing a wound on Lilia when you felt him stir.
“Melea…Le…B…”
You took a wet cloth and wiped his forehead.
He must be dreaming about his family.
You knew all would be well in the future, but that didn’t mean current events didn’t affect you.
It hurt you to see so many struggle in a useless war, due to greed from one man.
Lilia clutched at his stomach, his sharp claw like nails reopening the wounds you had painstakingly bandaged.
You quickly grabbed his hands and sucked in a breath of pain. His nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. His grip could break your bones to tiny, incomprehensible pieces, but you held on.
You knew he wanted to be free and return home, to protect his loved ones. You were determined to heal him for that very reason.
“Damn it Lilia Vanrouge! You will get through this! You have so much to look forward to. So many people who love you! Now, stop being a prick and let me go so I can treat you!”
Surprisingly, he let you go. You ignored your bleeding, aching hands in order to reseal his wound.
“…will you be in that future?”
You froze, turning and looking into feverish eyes.
“Yes.”
General Lilia Vanrouge fell into a deep sleep for the next 10 days.
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You were returning to Lilia’s cell when a knife was held to your neck.
“Human, where is the fae you captured?”
Ah, it seems rescue finally arrived for Lilia. It took them long enough.
You looked up into hardened, familiar eyes. Baul Zigvolt would have been a sight for sore eyes if he didn’t, you know, have a knife to your throat.
“I would gladly show you if you take that knife away.”
“You-”
“Besides, I was heading right in that direction. If you don’t want to be caught, you better hurry.”
You continued walking, listening to Baul grumble about frustrating humans. You couldn’t help the slight smile on your face as you remembered similar words said by his grandson.
You led Baul quickly and quietly to the cell that practically became a second home to you. No one in sight. You had noticed, unlike the men that the Knight of Dawn commanded, the men directly under King Henrik were…well, just like him: sleazy and lazy.
They let their guards down thinking The Right General of the Fae was too weak and couldn’t take any of them on. They even implied you were nothing but a sacrificial lamb should said Fae get angry, but of course, they would rescue you at a price.
It took you all you could not to spit in their faces or smash their heads on the wall. The self defense lessons Silver and Sebek taught you provided security that you would forever be grateful for.
It was due to this fatal thinking that Baul was able to infiltrate the base, as the men went to seek entertainment elsewhere.
When you arrived, you opened the cell door quietly so as to not hurt sensitive ears. The sun was high enough for the cell to be well lit.
You heard Baul hiss in anger before rushing to his general’s side. Lilia didn’t seem surprised to see him, telling you how he must have always known rescue would come for him.
“General!”
“Careful! You’ll-”
Baul recoiled from the burns the iron chains struck at him.
“I tried to warn you.” You shook your head. You sat next to Lilia, taking his hand in yours. From the corner of your eye, you could see Baul tense but Lilia motioned for him to remain calm.
You picked at the lock. Another thing to be thankful for, your lock picking skills, which you learned quickly from days you were locked outside of Ramshackle Dorm because Grim forgot the key or the door just wouldn’t open.
“You got it in one go this time.”
“I told you I had surprises up my sleeves. I just needed the right tools.”
“Hmm, so you say.”
Baul looked at both of you as if you both at grown two heads each. Lilia noticed his look and waved towards his feet. Where chains that should have been locked were open.
“Any longer, Baul, and I would have rescued myself.”
Baul stammered before apologizing. You turned away to hide your smile.
Within moments, the atmosphere changed. General Lilia Vanrouge had to escape and return to his men.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“You have to leave. You need to return to your troops."
Lilia clenched his jaw, looking at you. You couldn't return with him; you both knew that. It didn't stop him from trying, but you shook your head before he could even open his mouth.
"I can't go with you."
A human amongst the fae would not last long, at least not now. There was too much hatred.
You took the cuffs that had been his tormentor for so long and locked them around your hands. You chose to ignore the angry growl Lilia tried to hide at the sight of the cuffs now imprisoning you.
"I'll make it look like you escaped, now go."
"They'll hurt you."
You shook your head.
"The Knight of Dawn would never let that happen."
He knew you were right. The Knight of Dawn had visited several times, helping you treat his wounds and restrain him when the fever would have him lash out at you.
The Knight of Dawn had honor, as a fellow general and soldier, Lilia respected him for it. Lilia pulled one of his magic stones off his belt before offering it to you.
"Take this. Smash it to the ground if you need help, I'll find you."
You agreed and watched the two soldiers turn to leave. General Lilia Vanrouge hesitated before speaking, "You told me you would be in my future."
"I will be."
"You better keep that promise, YN."
"I will."
General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt vanished from your sight.
I'll see you both soon.
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Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.
Author’s Notes: I can’t believe this became a 1.5k fic, the way this bat fae drives me crazy. 😂💞🌺
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transmascissues · 4 months
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conversations i’ve had with my mom this week about top surgery that will make my brain melt if i try too hard to make sense of them:
i was talking to her about how i might have to extend my medical leave because i probably won’t be ready to work at 4 weeks. she told me she didn’t expect my recovery to take this long. this is the same woman who, before i got top surgery, told me horror stories about someone she knew who had complications for months after having a mastectomy. was she just making shit up? was she lecturing me about things she was actively still in denial about? i can’t even begin to guess.
i mentioned to her that i’ve been posting about my experiences with recovery and she seemed…offended? by the idea that i was talking about it publicly. i shouldn’t be surprised because she’s the one who once told me the online trans community is “cult-like” and that she thought i was only getting top surgery because the trans people in my computer convinced me. the thing is, she’s also constantly asking me how my recovery timeline compares to other people so i…don’t know how she expects me to get that information if she also thinks talking to people about my recovery is bad.
she was asking me about how my incisions are healing and she told me to describe how they look to her…but “not anything that’ll make me cry”. do i know what she meant by that? nope! i can only assume the right move was to not describe anything too in-depth, even if it meant not including important details because they might upset her. priorities, am i right?
she asked me if, having been through the worst of recovery and knowing what it’s like, i would still make the same choice to get top surgery. obviously i said i would. she then proceeded to keep saying things like “really? are you sure? even after all this? you know you don’t have to say that, right?” as if it was completely impossible to believe i don’t regret this. why did she ask if she didn’t really want to hear the answer? god only knows.
we found out how much my insurance paid for the part of my surgery costs that were covered and it turns out they paid way more than any of the estimates i was given. my mom kept saying “that’s a lot of money you know” over and over again, as if i didn’t know that an amount of money high enough to buy a small house is a lot. i think she was trying to make some kind of point. what point? idk man.
0/10 totally incomprehensible interactions. i don’t even know what to make of them. i think now that the surgery is done and she can’t fight it anymore, she’s gone from being overtly ridiculous about it to just bringing the absolute weirdest vibes to every conversation about it.
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maculategiraffe · 1 year
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what's it like being ace? is it hard cause the world and media is so sex obsessed?
I think like most things (for me anyway) it's hardest before you have a word for it. before you know it's a thing.
I watch my nephew making sense of the world and so much of it is about naming things. naming what it is that he wants, how it is that he wants things to be. when he cries in frustration it's usually not actually because he can't have something he wants. it's because he can't make you understand what he wants. or how important it is. you become this looming uncomprehending/incomprehensible force that's not on his side and so much bigger and it's just unbearable
but if you can name how he's feeling. if you can say "I know, buddy. I know you really really want to be the one to plug the vacuum cleaner in yourself, and I know you know how. but the outlet can be very dangerous and it's more dangerous for you than for auntie mac. not because you're not as good as plugging it in but because your body is so much smaller and things that would only hurt a grownup a little bit can hurt you a lot. so just like you need to let a grownup pick you up and carry you sometimes, you have to let a grownup do a dangerous thing for you sometimes. just for now, while you're so little."
he listens! and he doesn't like it but he gets it. he stops crying and lunging for the outlet. he chills out
and that's the relief of having a word, a term, a description for what's going on. you don't have to be a baby for it to be an absolutely cataclysmic relief when someone says "is this by any chance how you're feeling?" and they're RIGHT
and they're like "understandable! it's called This and it's a Thing! we have a flag!"
I've always been irritated by how the hans christian anderson story about the ugly duckling gets referenced like it's a story about being ugly when you're a child and then turning pretty when you grow up. that's not what that story is about. the story is about feeling ugly and weird because you're not like everybody else and you don't understand why. and when you grow up you realize you weren't ever actually ugly, or defective. you were just something else. a different kind of bird. that you didn't know was a thing. you aren't a weird gross duck. you're a perfectly normal, actually kind of beautiful, swan. you want to meet some other swans? we have a flag.
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vauxxy · 2 months
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the moon ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
ECLIPSE- PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO
luke castellan x reader
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ABOUT - luke invites you, the strange dionysus girl, to spar with him. luke makes a revelation, and you invite him to hang out.
A/N - hey y’all! it’s been a while!! so here i am, with an introductory chapter to a three parter luke x reader series called ‘eclipse’.
there’s not a lot happening in this chapter, but it’s important to the next chapter me thinks :P
also i think i’m sooo funny 😭 the title will make even more sense soon ok
WARNINGS - swearing n alcohol mention and that’s it
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to say luke castellan didn’t like you would be a big understatement. but it would also be untrue.
the reality of his feelings towards you were much more complicated than simply ‘liking’ or ‘hating’ you.
his feelings towards you were completely incomprehensible. and he hated it.
you were just… so strange. the eldest daughter of dionysus, a talented actress, a rebellious girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. you were everything all at once; and it perplexed him to no end.
maybe that’s why your rivalry persisted throughout all these years. you made no sense, and luke needed everything to make sense. he needed everything to be predictable and understandable.
and you were neither of those things.
but there was also a comfort in the way that you consistently confused him- a sense of irregularity that provided him with the same comfort he would receive from those who were less strange than you were. maybe a bit more comfort, it fact.
it was truly comforting; the fact that you were always there to annoy and pester him when he was training, or at the campfire, or when you asked him to spar.
it was comforting knowing there was always someone there to challenge him- someone there to make him feel the same feeling over and over again… until the feeling changed.
“y/n, i need to talk to you.”
his voice echoed throughout the training grounds, alarming you enough to whip your head around fast to find the source of such commotion.
you were standing in the middle of the grounds, the remains of the practice dummies you were throwing your axe at scattered around the premises.
luke watched your hair move with the soft summer wind as you turned around to face him, no doubt in his mind that you knew exactly what he wanted.
“yeah? ‘bout what?”
your face was a little red and your arms were a little tired from your undoubtably taxing training session. if luke saw you like this a few months ago, he’d chuckle at how disheveled you looked.
but it was not a few months ago.
to distract himself from your appearance, his eyes trailed down to your hands as you tightly gripped your axe. it always freaked him out seeing you with that gnarly axe- throwing that thing around like it weighed nothing.
“hello? about what?” you asked again breathily, swinging your axe back and forth aimlessly as you tried to get his attention.
it seemed as though he had been distracted by something. something strange and pretty and unusual. and whatever it was, he needed to snap out of it before he went crazy.
“i need a sparring partner,” he stated blankly, leaning his back against the nearest pillar and letting out an exasperated breath.
“you’re the only one in camp who can give me somewhat of a challenge. anyways,” he took a good look at you, tapping his fingers against his forearm.
“i’m bored. wanna fight?”
you shrugged your shoulders, recklessly tossing your axe to the side and unsheathing your sword.
“yeah, okay,” you said dryly.
your hair fell over your face as you looked up at him, groaning in irritation at the minor inconvenience.
“hold my sword for a minute?” you asked blankly as you offered your sword out to luke for him to take.
luke looked down at you, amused by how easily you were able to ask him for a favour- even if it was just a minor one. it seemed like you were growing a lot more reliant on him these days. or maybe more comfortable with him? who knows.
“yeah, okay,” he said reluctantly, taking the sword from your hands.
he watched you in silence as you took a step back, running your hand through your hair.
“you really aren't much of a talker, are you?” he asked, smiling smugly as his eyes followed the flow of your hair.
you pulled a hair tie off of your wrist, quickly tying my your hair into a lazy ponytail.
“oh, i’m a big talker. just not with you,” you said bluntly, your voice playful and smug as you flashed him a mischievous smile.
luke liked it when you smiled. he liked to imagine that all the stars in the sky got together on the night you were born, and decided to use their stardust to construct ever feature on your face. your dainty freckles, the shining bright whites of your eyes- the pure magic of your little smile.
‘the fuck is wrong with you? stop being weird.’
you quickly took back the sword, your fingers grazing against his during the little exchange.
“i can tell,” luke commented breathily, raising an eyebrow. his eyes narrowed slightly, before he raised his sword as well.
“you ready? or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”
“i’m always ready, castellan,” you hummed, taking a few steps towards the middle of the training grounds, and getting into position.
“whatever,” he rolled his shoulders and followed suite. “on three?”
you nodded, and let your body tense up as he started counting down.
“one, two, three-“
Luke lunged forward, stabbing his sword towards your chest. He made good use of the length of his blade, keeping as much distance between you and him as possible.
despite this, you managed to quickly dodge him, your sword clanging against his as you bit down on your lip. you quickly attempted a shot at his waist, your eyes locked on his sword as you shuffled around.
Luke smirked as the two blades clashed together, you going for his legs and him going for your chest. he attempted another stab at your chest, and when you evaded, he kicked out to try and trip you- something he figured would throw you off, or at the very least, off-balance.
you seemed to not fall for such cheap tricks. as he backed away to create some distance between you and him, he smiled. this was exactly what he wanted.
a challenge.
he heard you groan, offering a sly smirk before watching you attempt a sneaky stab at his arm.
your hair bounced with every movement, your technique airy and light- almost unpredictable enough to make him second guess his own strategy.
you speed caught luke off-guard, taken aback by the sudden stab. he definitely wasn’t expecting that.
your fast and swift movements, paired with the excellent control of your blade made him sweat a bit. he had no choice but to back away, before lunging forward with his sword once more.
you quickly dodged his attack, the sound of blades clanging echoing throughout the area as your breaths got heavier and heavier.
you moved forwards, attempting another attack at his chest.
he quickly blocked your sword, moving in with a stab at your neck- but you were too quick. you resisted the attack, hitting his sword with yours. you shuffled around again, attacking his other arm as you took a second to study him and his movements.
you attacked him yet again, moving his blade to block. the same sounds of metal clashing against each other continuing.
your attack at his arm was successful. he’d taken a little step back at the sudden pain.
luke raised his sword for a stab at your side, attempting to catch you right in the gut—this would put you on the defensive for sure… right?
you quickly blocked his attack on my side, left with a little cut on your forearm.
luke was shocked at how easily you were able to defend yourself against him. you had been training and sparring and competing against him for years- obviously you were a talented fighter.
but luke had grown accustomed to winning. now? he felt intimidated.
like knew his arms were his weak spot, but he hadn’t expected you to realize this yourself. your counterattacks came quicker now that you’d discovered the most effective way to get him out of commission.
the two of you were now evenly-matched in the sense that neither of you could land an attack at the other, and this was starting to get exciting.
you started trying to take cheap shots at his arms and legs, pissing luke off further. it was like you cracked the code.
you were winning.
He grunted, breathing heavily. he was struggling to move against each of your quick attacks, trying to match the sheer speed and agility of your balde.
and to his surprise; he was starting to get tired.
as soon as he tried attacking you, you blocked it- hard. this caused the sword to fly out of his hand.
disarming him was much easier after he was tired and distracted.
then, you lunged at him.
you held your blade against luke’s neck as you pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as you looked down at him.
“do i win?” you asked smugly, restraining his movements.
you had giving luke a run for his money. the best swordsman at camp was now at the mercy of your sword.
while you two were similar in skill across all aspects of fighting, you had rarely ever beaten him in a sword fight.
“yeah, sure, sure you win,” he growled, attempting to shove you off of his lap.
“now get off me.”
he looked up at you, noticing the proud smile plastered across your face. it wasn’t cocky, or smug- it was proud.
and as much as he’d hate to admit it, he was genuinely impressed with you.
you finally lifted your body off his, standing up as you twirled your sword around.
“huh. i didn’t know i was this good with a sword…” you mumbled, looking down at the blade.
luke stared up at you, rolling his eyes as he got up.
“still obnoxious as ever, though,” he mumbled dryly.
luke glanced at your sword for a moment before turning his gaze away. he walked over to his sword, picking it up off the ground and sheathing it as he turned back around to face you.
“you’re not bad. obviously,” he said bluntly, his cheeks red and his face sweaty from the challenging sparring match as he walked back over to you.
“your attacks are unpredictable. quick, agile. you have a good technique.”
you furrowed your brows, a little confused by his kind comments and praises.
“technique? i just kept my eyes on your sword and tried to get you tired enough to disarm you,” you explained, sheathing your sword.
“i’d hardly call that technique. you’re much better than i am,” you added.
that was unexpected. a compliment? or… was that sarcastic? what the fuck is going on?
you were probably just tired; that’s why you were downplaying your achievements. that’s why you were offering him praise despite his shortcomings.
“i’m probably stronger than you, but you’re much faster. agility is just as important as strength,” luke replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
you shrugged your shoulders, smiling smugly as you took out your ponytail.
“well, i gotta make up for my lack of raw muscles somehow,” you retorted breathily, your tone playful and your voice light as you smiled at him.
you were a child of dionysus- you weren’t supposed to be a fighter, you were supposed to be an actress. but it made sense for you to go against the grain like that. you were an unpredictable, hotheaded, arrogant, theatrical girl… who could also somehow take him in a fight.
luke tried not to gawk at how your hair fell over your shoulder as you shook your head.
as much as he hated noticing it, your hair was really pretty.
it was probably one of his favourite things about you.
luke stared into your eyes as you spoke, his gaze unwavering as he admired your sheer confidence- even when downplaying yourself.
and there it was. the same feeling that had been fucking him over everyday for the past 2 months. a feeling that he was starting to get uncomfortably familiar with recently; fondness. admiration. adoration.
you were the moon. constant, yet always changing. bright, yet most comfortable surrounded by the confines of the dark.
you were his moon.
and you were beautiful.
‘ew, stop.’
luke didn’t appreciate the new soft spot he was harbouring for a certain dionysus girl. he hated how his heart was constantly making space for her. and he hated that his brain was just as complicit.
“i mean, you don’t need to ‘make up’ for anything. muscle isn’t really that important in a sword fight,” he said, crossing his arms as he finally pulled his eyes away from yours.
you nodded lightheartedly, idly running your hand through your hair as you turned your head away from his.
gods, he could watch you play with your hair all day if he could. of course, he’d prefer to play with it himself, but watching you do it was almost as good.
“hm. i guess you’re right,” you sighed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts lazily.
“anyways, sword fighting is way too much effort. i prefer throwing axes at people.”
luke smirked, rolling his eyes playfully and he looked over at you.
“i still can’t believe you’d choose an axe over a sword.” he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “you’re so… eccentric.”
“what do you expect? mr. d is my dad,” you said playfully, earning a reluctant chuckle from luke.
“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied. “but seriously, who chooses an axe as their primary weapon? why not a bow or something?”
you rolled you eyes, shaking your head at the boy in disagreement.
“the arrows are too flimsy. i prefer wielding something with a bit more weight,” you explained. luke shook his head in disbelief, chuckling dryly.
“you’re so weird… who else uses an axe for their weapon of choice?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.
“and don’t say something like ‘oh, tons of people’ or something.”
“oh, tons of people,” you repeated, mocking him playfully as you took your hands out of your pockets. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting out a smug chuckle.
“shut up,” luke scoffed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.
gods, it felt like his feelings were becoming more evident by the minute. he was going insane.
‘you like her, don’t you?’
the thought popped into his head again.
‘shut it out, or else it’ll get awkward.’
he wasn’t about to ruin the fun you were having.
and besides, he didn’t like you. he couldn’t like you.
you were literally the daughter of the camp director. and you were insufferable. or… well- that’s a lie. you used to be insufferable.
it seemed as though age had provided you two with a new sense of maturity; letting your rivalry calm down and allowing you two to finally get along.
and as much as luke hated to admit it, he kinda liked getting to know you. he liked spending time with you. but he always did- that’s why you two spend so much time fighting, right?
luke was suddenly snapped out of his head by the sound of footsteps hitting the floor of the training grounds. he looked up to see your back as you walked away, his eyebrows furrowing at your silent departure.
“where are you going?” he called out.
you turned around quickly, quirking your head to the side.
“the campfire, obviously?” your said, your hands stuffed in your pockets again.
“aren’t you coming?” you asked, staring him down playfully with a friendly smile.
luke’s eyebrows rose, his body freezing as he thought it over.
‘she’s mocking you.’
‘no she isn’t- you’re the leader of the hermes cabin. you have to come to the campfires, dickhead.’
‘can’t be bothered, nah.’
“i have better things to do, thanks.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in the middle of the training grounds.
you raised your eyebrows, a little smirk emerging on your face.
“you sure? because as soon as the younger campers head back to their cabins, us older demigods are going down to the lake,” you said, crossing your arms to mirror his defensive stance.
“… and i’ve got a bottle of wine and half a bottle of vodka hidden under my bed,” you whispered as you took a step forwards, shooting him a mischievous wink.
vodka? that was enough to pull him in, even if they were supposed to have a little rivalry going. but then again, they were barley rivals anymore.
it’s not like he was big on drinking, but he was big on discarding his responsibilities- even if it was just for a few hours.
he paused for a moment, staring at you as he contemplated whether or not he should come to the campfire.
luke didn’t even care if you guys didn’t like each other that much, he still wanted to spend more time with you. besides, he didn’t see the problem in exploiting the way you guys were being a lot more civil to each other recently in order to get a little tipsy.
“yeah fine,” he mumbled, “i’ll come.”
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picaroroboto · 3 months
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For the past couple days, I've been unfortunately cursed with thinking about Zenos yae Galvus. I don't even particularly like him - not that I dislike him either, Zenosfuckers you can put your scythes down - but it seems to me like a lot of the fandom either greatly misunderstands him, or doesn't even care to try to understand him, which from an objective standpoint as someone who cares deeply about writing in video games kind of pisses me off. But I'm more pissed about the fact that I'm apparently going to keep thinking about this issue until I actually write a character analysis of him.
Q: "But, what even is there to analyze with him? Isn't he all about wanting to fight the WoL and nothing else?"
Well, you wouldn't be wrong with saying that. That motivation is at the forefront of his character, and even if you look closer, everything about him comes back to either "violence" or "lack of understanding of others". But there are more meaningful sides to his deceptively simple character. That question of meaning is what I really want to look into - what does his character mean, what symbolic or thematic role does he play in this story?
Q: "Better question: why are you posting this on your art blog/Fate meta sideblog?"
Good question, with a stupid answer: I have all of 6 followers on my FF14 sideblog, and around 150 here. Let's go under the cut so they don't have to read a wall of text, unless they want to.
When you look at and compare FF14's villains, you can see a very clear change, no doubts thanks to the change in main writers. ARR Gaius and Thordan are more or less two-bit villains - Gaius's memeable iconic Praetorium speech gives us insight into how fascists try to justify themselves but little into Gaius's actual personality, while all Thordan gets as far as depth of character is an NPC in a sidequest remarking that he wasn't always a bad person and was probably doing what he thought best for his nation. Nidhogg is a little more understandable, since revenge is a relatable motivation to anyone who's been hurt by others. In Stormblood, Zenos and Yotsuyu are both presented as deserving of pity even as they do terrible things. Come Shadowbringers and Endwalker though, the story takes a greater interest on why villains like Emet-Selch and Elidibus do the things they do, and the player is allowed more options to try to understand them and see how similar they are to the WoL. Hell, Hermes and the Endsinger are barely "villains" at all, with the level of sympathy the story shows them.
What I'm getting to here is that Zenos, with half his arc in Stormblood and the rest in Endwalker, is sort of caught in the middle of this shift. He played the role of the rival character in Stormblood really well, but come Endwalker, he's standing on a stage full of heroes and villains with grand causes and deep motivations, as the guy whose sole motivation is fighting for pleasure.
It seems he's not unaware of this contrast himself - when Jullus confronts him for ruining Garlemald for no good reason, he retorts with "Would you be happier had I a good reason?" Zenos makes no attempt to justify his own actions and doesn't care that his reason seems incomprehensible and unforgivable to others. Yet in that same cutscene Alisaie hits him with the fact that if he keeps living solely for pleasure, he'll die alone. When next we see Zenos, he's alone at the Royal Menagerie waxing philosophical about what he really sought in the battle with the WoL.
See, what really motivates Zenos isn't just the thrill of battle - this guy has gotten Battle High and the joy of human connection confused. Really.
Even before he gets so perturbed by the idea of dying alone, there's other suggestions, like his proposal of friendship to the WoL when they fought in Stormblood, and then later his dying words in which he explains that he never understood others - at his core, he's just lonely. I know there's an official side story that tells it, but you don't need to know the exact details to glean that he had some sort of tragic backstory. Sad, but not a surprise, considering he's the prince of the Garlean Empire, raised to take the throne and continue the Empire's legacy of violence.
At his core, he's a very lonely person, but also a thing of violence, raised using violent methods for the purpose of causing more violence. Violence is how he lives and breathes - the only way he gets any sort of connection with others in a world of hurting and being hurt is the brief connection warriors dueling as equals can sometimes find. Don't deny that this sort of connection exists - FF14 is great at making fights that are both fun and tell a story. Hence, why he goes crazy for the WoL, but also refers to them as "friend". In their fights, he senses (or thinks he senses) similarity between him and them. Beneath all the madness is a pure, genuine joy in seeing the self reflected in the other...but he also instantly gets on the train to projection-town, population Zenos, and assumes the WoL is exactly like him, ignoring or failing to notice that they also fight for deeper meanings. The worst part is, he doesn't even notice that what he's actually seeking in fighting them is connection until Alisaie's aforementioned callout.
So he goes and angsts for a while, then turns into a dragon again and flies across the universe to help us kick the Endsinger's tail feathers, then issues his challenge for that duel he'd been longing for. But what's changed is that he starts with a question - "Such pleasures you sought for their own sake, and for no other reason, is that not so?". Dying after the duel, he's full of questions too: "Was your life a gift or a burden? Did you find fulfillment?" Alisaie's suggestion that he'd die alone actually spurred him to realize what he actually sought in the WoL, and now he's asking all these questions in an attempt to, for the first time in his life, genuinely connect with another human being.
The questions aren't important just because they're a sign of how Zenos has changed in Endwalker - they're actually the thematic heart of Endwalker! ARR may have had "Answers" as it's theme, but EW is the expac of questions. Namely the biggest question of all: What is the meaning of life? Different characters have different answers to that, leading to the grand-scale symbolic conflict being the Endsinger's despair - her belief that there is no meaning in life - versus whatever reasons the WoL chooses to live for, left, as always, up to player interpretation.
When you look deeper, Zenos isn't actually as out-of-place in the symbolic conflict as he first seems. His depressed worldview - that metaphor about drowning in a swamp again - seems to align with the Endsinger's view about life being meaningless. But he aids the WoL in defeating her. In that way he serves as part of the answer to her question about the meaning of life. He may have resented life at times, but he still found meaning in chasing pleasure. Not the strongest or most beautiful reason to deny oblivion, perhaps, but it did enable him to help the WoL triumph. I think of Zenos's philosophy as being connected to the concept of "Amor Fati"...largely because this quote explaining it sounds like something he'd say, or at least agree with on some level:
"and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed."
So he does have a meaningful role in Endwalker, as the "Amor Fati" against the Endsinger's "Memento Mori". I think that in this the story shows that his reason for living, while somewhat shallow, is not necessarily a morally wrong thing in and of itself (setting aside for a second all the people he hurt in his pursuit of that). It's just that, since it is a lonely pursuit that denies everything except for his target, it still feels empty. The core of the counterargument against the Endsinger's despair is that both pleasure and fulfillment are necessary to live a meaningful life in a meaningless universe, and that's why Zenos is here in Endwalker. Why he even exists in the story in the first place.
Even if you're one of the people who deeply hates Zenos...well, you probably wouldn't have read this whole thing if you did, but I still think it's important to read into characters you dislike, because every character in a story is written for a reason. Plus, trying to understand even their worst enemies is one of the WoL's key traits as of ShB and EW. With his last breaths, Zenos was trying to understand the WoL too - carrying this understanding of him with you as we move into our next adventures is the least you can do for your "friend".
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signedkoko · 2 months
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GOSH, all your writings make me feel all bouncy and giddy I swear AaaAAAA
Feeling slightly inspired by your previous Lucifer and Lilith with a reader who ends up attacked, might I request a Vox X Reader, where while they're both out together, Reader notices someone apparently brave enough to attack Vox and just- autopilot takes the hit to protect him? Turns out afterwords it wasn't an Angelic weapon of any kind, so even though it's nasty and painful, they'll ultimately be okay...
But did Reader KNOW that? Nope. Could Vox have probably handled it himself with how powerful he is? Yep. Did either one of those thoughts even cross Reader's mind until after? NOPE.
Reader just saw harm approaching the one they love so much and just went into instant protect mode...
Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which someone attempts an attack on Vox, but you decide to get in the way. Reader is genderneutral.
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It was just another press conference, the same as all the others
VoxTek had a new announcement, and reporters flocked to be the ones with the most interesting story or the first, whichever got them more praise from their lousy boss
Both the CEO and spokesperson, Vox insisted on being the face everyone knew and saw, as well as the voice they all followed
You were a not-so-recent addition to his empire, and some cameras were sure to catch a frame or two of you as you waited on the side, smiling and waving to the crowd
You were only here because it made Vox happy and because you would rather be seen than not
VoxTek had some of the highest security, with mostly Vox himself watching over everything
You always wondered how he could keep track of so many tasks at once
But the screams of everyone sounded different, less like a thousand questions and more like terror, incomprehensible yells as someone broke through the crowd
They had a gun; it looked white and gold, you weren't sure if Vox hadn't noticed or didn't care
All you knew was that your body moved, and suddenly you were between the bullet and fov when it pierced right into your side
The space cleared of voices before one of the bodyguards tackled the man and wrestled the gun from his grip
While you stood there, clutching your abdomen, the lava-like pain burst through your abdomen
Before Vox could react, flashes began again, most of the crowd recognizing the occurrence or snapping photos of you stood there, still in shock from the shot
What did you expect from demons? They'd win a bonus if they caught the first image of you being shot
Before you can think much of it, Vox is running, carrying you, and applying pressure with his hand and yours over the bullet hole
Thank god the press release was in the Vees tower, he's laid you on a counter in the lobby, his jacket bunched up under your head and his claws tearing through your shirt to access the wound
There's no time for a hospital; besides, he knows everything, he can be the best doctor in the world in a second, and he's going to be if it means helping you
" Thank go- "
" Thank god what! I could take that shot! Shut up! "
You decide to listen because, well, you can barely speak through gritted teeth
He's calling Val to come down and bring any kind of anaesthetic.
He's able to fix you up more than enough, but just to be safe, he's called in his private doctor to come take a look at you
Once everything has calmed down and you're back upstairs with Vox, he's got a million different questions
Why? I mean, he could take a bullet with ease! hes moslty metal, everything can be replaced!
Even worse if you really thought it was an angel weapon, because that would have absolutely killed you!
" It's not like I had time to think, Vox. I just moved! "
He's frustrated that you'd ever be in harm's way, but it's hard for him to stay mad knowing you just wanted to protect him
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Author's Note - I wasn't sure if I should go for an angst or romantic note on this one, but I felt a little humour coping was more like Vox so I went for romantic! Thank you for requesting 🖤
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nothorses · 1 year
Note
I noticed that you reposted something that is along the lines of proship
I agree with leaving media alone but I think its incredibly disgusting when people ship, for example siblings, because what it feels to me is that they have an incest fetish or something
I know just because someone writes about murder doesnt mean they support it, and I believe that. but usually when people write about murder it's in a negative context, obviously showing how it is so incomprehensible to outsiders about how someone could do that, or showing how we need to get these people help.
trying to apply this to, for example, incest, if someone ships an incestuous relationship then it seems like it would be in a good context, and it seems like they support it should it be in real life. that's how I view this all. (itd be different if they shipped siblings as a strange headcanon and talking about how it's bad... this reasoning I can understand the most to the point where I can let myself ignore it)
how am I supposed to learn to not care? especially when they are really outward about it?
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okay.
I do not participate in shipping discourse because I do not participate in shipping. I'm not really In Fandom anymore like, generally. I don't... care.
Because of this I had literally no idea what you were referring to in this ask. I had to scroll. So far back. To get to this post, which also doesn't refer to shipping discourse.
I also have not talked about incest here, and the post in question doesn't talk about incest.
It's about murder. And gore. Which you say here is fine.
Literally why did you send me this ask.
And like... there's a fair chance this is just bait, and there's also enough of a chance that you're genuinely asking that, like, fuck it. I'm gonna get shit no matter what I do, so I may as well try to do a little good.
You use the words "feels" and "seems" a lot in this ask. And I'm really glad you did, actually, because I think it's honest; you're operating on your feelings and assumptions, and that's really important to keep in mind.
And your feelings on this are valid! It's normal to be uncomfortable with certain content, and it's normal to not want to see or engage in it. You don't need to feel any differently about those things. You don't have to consume incestuous content, you don't have to be okay with it, and you don't have to be around it.
But ask yourself: you assume that other people engaging in this content means they support it in real life, but what if they don't? What if you're wrong?
Maybe they're saying it's wrong in a way you're just not picking up on, or that you don't recognize. Maybe they aren't saying it's wrong; maybe it's in the context. Maybe it's in a genre trope in a genre you're not familiar with. Maybe it's irony or satire that you aren't picking up on. Maybe they aren't saying it at all, but that's still what they think, and they just chose not to put it in that content for... who knows what reason. Maybe they're literally just bad at writing.
What then?
Sometimes you're going to feel or assume that something is going on, and you're just gonna be wrong. And you could ask who's fault that is- did you fail to pick up on something you should have been able to, or did they fail to communicate it well enough?- but like, what are you going to do with that information?
Sometimes people are not very good at literary analysis, and sometimes people are not very good at writing, and that's just part of learning. Do we tell everyone not to attempt to talk about certain topics unless they're "good enough" to do it "right"? How do we know when someone's "good enough", and how do they get to that point without practice? Do we just ban those topics altogether? What topics do we ban- where's the line? How do we enforce it? How do we prevent that from being weaponized against marginalized people?
Anon, you asked me how you can "not care" about these things existing. And I think that's a valid question; you feel there is injustice, and you want to stop it. That can be a very noble impulse, and it can be harnessed for a lot of good.
But it can also be really, really toxic- not just to the people you hurt because you act on assumptions and impulses that are incorrect, but to yourself. You can't control everything. You can't control how other people feel, whether or how they engage in certain topics, or what they do or say. You just can't. And trying, or wanting to try, or thinking you should try- it's going to drive you nuts.
So here's how not to care:
Remind yourself that you might be wrong. Take a moment to think about all the things you don't know for certain, and the things you would need to know to be absolutely, 100% sure that you're right.
Consider how important this is to you. How close is this person to you? How important is this issue? What would it feel like to let this go- would it continue to impact you? Do you have other options? (removing yourself from the situation, blocking tags/posts/people, etc.)
Consider what you can do, and what you should do. Think about the tools at your disposal, the power you have in this situation, and how likely this person is to listen to you. Think about whether those tools are ethical. Again, what if you're wrong? Is there any reason you might regret your actions?
If you still feel like it's worth addressing, start by asking questions. Make sure you really know what's going on, and if (and when) the situation changes with new information, walk through this process again. Repeat back what you believe is happening until they confirm that you're right, decide again whether this is worth it, and then proceed.
Sometimes it's more effective to just vent to someone else, or to make a post about the issue generally without confronting that person- especially considering your assumptions might be wrong! Maybe it's worth it to talk about what you thought was happening, but you don't know that what you thought was happening is what was actually happening. You can still talk about it, just, y'know, without making it an attack on someone else.
And again, I don't give a shit about fandom discourse. This is important to me because these are themes that crop up in regular-ass media all the time, and disagreements that crop up in regular-ass relationships with friends and family and loved ones. I think it's important that people have the skills to navigate disagreements, unintentional harm, and perceived slights in healthy, productive ways.
You can't live your whole life demanding that everyone agree with you on everything, or blaming other people for everything you misinterpret or assume incorrectly. You cannot assume that everything that hurts you was designed to hurt you. You can recognize that these are assumptions and feelings, and that's great! And I hope you're being honest when you say that you want to learn to let things go.
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pedroshotwifey · 1 month
Note
*looks around and slides money on the table* 💵
Frankie Morales and number 10
I apologize to Frankie because he’s a sweet polite broad bean who’s respectful and always asks. I…would like him not to. 👀
Reader: plus size female (because I’m in full self-indulgent delulu mode)
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Also I’m kinda not sorry because side why else would you have the title of the p**** eating king Morales? Huh? Huh? 😵 Sir. 👀
Anyway. I’m gonna stop rambling now. Thank you. 🥰
*Snatches money and stuffs it into pocket*
Yeah, alright. I got the goods. (I fucking love this.)
Hope you enjoy your face sitting with the p**** eating king! 😉
Rating: Explicit
W/C: 1.2k
Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!plus size!reader
A Real Man
“What the fuck do you mean you’ve never sat on someone’s face before?” 
You wince at the words coming out of Frankie’s mouth. Was it really that big of a deal? 
The two of you are sitting in bed, facing the TV that Frankie just paused. Well, it’s not like the two of you were really watching it anyway. You’d started talking halfway through the movie, and you’re not really sure how you got to this point in the conversation, but here you are.
“I-I don’t know. I just…haven’t.” You avoid his gaze as your cheeks heat, unsure of why you feel so ashamed to have admitted that. Maybe it was more of a common thing than you had thought. 
“But you’ve been in relationships before?” Frankie says it like a question, but he knows that you have. 
“Well, yeah, but. I don’t know, we just didn’t do it!” You don’t know why you’re getting frustrated with this. 
Frankie huffs a laugh and shakes his head. 
“What kind of an idiot wouldn’t offer themselves up to a goddess like you?” 
“You haven’t!” you point out. It’s a bit unfair of you since the two of you have only been officially dating for a couple of weeks and haven’t done too much sexual exploration yet. You’ve known him for much longer though, having grown up with him, and you’re not going to deny hearing…rumors of his skills. 
He gives you a pointed look, knowing that you know that’s an unfair accusation. You groan and put your hands over your face.
“My last boyfriend offered, but he seemed like he didn’t really want to. So I told him I would suffocate him, and he agreed with me.” It’s muffled through your hands, and the last part is near incomprehensible with how quietly you say it. 
“He what?” Frankie sits up a bit, and you peek at him through your fingers. “Honey, I hate to tell you, but that boy was a fucking idiot.” 
You sigh and shake your head. Like you didn’t know that already. 
“Take your clothes off.” 
Your hands fall from your face as you jolt up. 
“What? No!” 
“Yes. You’re going to sit on my face so I can show you what it’s like to be with a real man.” 
“Frankie, no, I–” 
“Clothes. Off. Now.” 
You gulp at the way his eyes darken and his voice deepens. Deciding it’s better just to listen to what he says, you slide down off the bed and start to tug off your clothes with shaky hands. You glance at Frankie as you push your pants down, watching the way he hungrily licks his bottom lip as you unveil more and more skin. 
You stop once you’re down to your bra and panties, another protest on the tip of your tongue. But Frankie’s quick, and he knows your antics. 
“Keep going. I don’t want to hear it.” 
You purse your lips but undo your bra all the same, tossing it to the side and revealing your breasts to your boyfriend. You can feel the wetness between your legs as you peel your panties off, making your face flush again. 
“C’mere.” 
It’s not a request, and your body responds to it before you can think about it. You stop in front of him, his hands coming to settle on your plush hips. His eyes drag up the length of you, slowing as they pass your heavy breasts. 
“Fucking gorgeos, amor.” 
He starts to pull you back onto the bed with him, leading you to climb over him as he lays down. You stop at his waist, feeling the way his bulge presses up against the fabric of his sweats. 
“C’mon, baby. All the way up.” 
You swallow but follow his instruction, trying and failing to avoid his lust fueled gaze. You stop again right at his chest, and he suddenly wraps his arms around your thick thighs to pull you to his face, making you fall over him and plant your hands on the bed above his head. 
“Frankie, be careful!” you scold, sitting back up on your knees. You look down at him, seeing his pupils completely blown. 
“Take a seat hermosa,” he instructs, completely ignoring your outburst. 
You start to lower yourself down, hovering just over his mouth. You’re about to ask him one more time if he’s sure, and then he pulls you all the way down, making you yelp as your pussy comes into contact with his unrelenting mouth. 
He immediately gets to work on licking stripes up and down your cunt, and you scream out his name. He’s eaten you before while you were on your back, but holy fuck. It didn’t feel like this. 
He groans into you as he slips his tongue inside your weeping hole, licking up all that he can. Your hand threads through his curls as your hips jolt involuntarily at the feeling. Your head is already starting to go blank as a pressure builds in your abdomen. 
His tongue fucks in and out of you as he simultaneously slurps up your juices. You moan obscenely, tugging on his hair as you ride his face. He whimpers at the pull, and you already know his hips are bucking up into nothing. 
He’s fucking feral, licking and fucking and groaning and whimpering. After a moment, he pulls his tongue back and shifts to take your clit between his full lips, sucking harshly. Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm gets closer, and Frankie holds you even closer, his fingers leaving indents on your thighs as he squeezes your flesh. His tongue flicks over the swollen bud, and you’re done for. 
“Oh, fuck, Frankie!” you cry out as you come on him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’re vaguely aware of the way you’re clenching his hair in a way that has got to be painful, but you don’t have enough control to release your grip. 
He keeps moving through your orgasm, letting go of your clit to trail back to your hole, drinking everything up as he moans. Your body tenses and shakes violently as you focus solely on the pleasure of it. 
You’re panting as you come down, your body leaning back over his, weak from the force of the orgasm he just gave you. You feel his grip loosen on your thighs, and you take the opportunity to roll off of him and lay down on your back beside him. 
You’re both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, breathing heavy as you look at eachother. You trade a shaky laugh, completely blissed out from whatever the fuck that was. 
“Thank you baby,” you say, unsure if you can find the words to explain to him how mind-blowing that was. 
“Shit, thank you,” Frankie responds. 
“It wasn’t too much then?” you ask, doubt creeping back into your mind despite what just transpired. 
“It was fucking perfect baby. I can prove how much I liked it if you really need.” He sounds almost bashful at this admission, and you’re confused for a second before you look down and see the dark stain in his pants. 
You laugh at him, almost impressed that he managed to come untouched. 
“No, I believe you.”
*****
Here’s the link to the prompt list if anyone else would like to request 🫶
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lottieurl · 1 year
Note
PLEASE do share your thoughts on Jackie's parents 👀
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THANK YOU for the encouragement. this might get long
let's start with how a while ago i got an anon implying that jackie was pampered by her parents BASED on the scene with adult shauna and them on jackie's birthday. which was the first time it ever occurred to me that people watched that scene and saw something completely different from what i saw. absolutely incomprehensible TO ME to even imagine that because i remember watching it for the first time and thinking that jackie's parents are straight out of a horror movie. there is something so sinister about how they treat shauna all while essentially replacing jackie WITH shauna. shauna gets jackie's gift and i believe (although i'd have to rewach the scene to make sure) shauna blows the candles on JACKIE'S cake and shauna is there with jackie's high school boyfriend. jackie's mother went to her wedding!! the show is not subtle about them putting shauna in the role of the daughter they lost. so why treat her so horribly? when they have no reason to because they don't know she was sleeping with jeff before plane crash before it's revealed to them in that very scene
so what that tells me and how i interpret it is: that's how they were treating jackie when she was alive. there is this insidious sort of cruelty that's masked by fake kindness? but constantly puts you down in ways that's hard to shake off. and jackie was probably Never good enough no matter how much she tried. she only became the Perfect Daughter after death when they could start treating shauna the way they treated jackie. like WHY is jackie such a deeply deeply insecure character? why does she crave validation sooooo bad? and we know she doesn't have a good relationship with her parents from how she talks about her mother when she gives shauna the pills on the plane (and implies her parents are neglectful) and when she says she has curfew and it's very much implied her parents would react badly vs shauna saying she has curfew too but being so unbothered by it she finds time to fuck jeff on her way home lmao. and to me people who fail to notice that are fooled by the appearances. jackie's parents have money and a big house and AFTER JACKIE IS DEAD idealize her. but what they seem not to notice is that the purpose of talking about how perfect jackie was is to belittle shauna. this isn't grieving parents who miss their daughter to me
and now actually let's talk about how i think that interpretation influences jackie as a character. we see how in moments of insecurity she does say things that are... i suppose a mix of self centered and not INTENTIONALLY mean but still hurtful to shauna. but she does usually backtrack and says sorry and her (many many MANY) moments of kindness always come off as genuine to me like she's starved for approval, she craves being loved. i think she keeps coming back to jeff just because even tho she doesn't want HIM she wants to be wanted and wants to be seen as someone who's wanted. but so much of her kindness sometimes feels. how do i put it. anxious? and so i imagine how living with her parents was for her. you're a kid and your parents keep finding ways to belittle you and to shame you but in ways that aren't very obvious especially to a child. you're a kid! you want their approval! so you learn HOW to be and HOW to act to maybe get it. if i am sweet and compliment them and i become the perfect daughter maybe they'll love me. and then you start applying that behavior to all your relationships and you're not even self aware about it. you're a teenager and you're trying so hard
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sofia-cloud · 9 months
Note
Miguel taking care of reader while they’re sick! He’d be so worried about losing them</3
hes such a sweetie
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- ,, PAIRING: soft!Miguel x reader
⋆·˚ ༘ * CONTENTS: comfort, fluff, soft Miguel, sickness, cuddling.
*ೃ༄ NOTES: im sorry if this a bit short, anyways in this story Miguel is lovelyy and tell me if yall want more of Miguel
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it was a normal day of winter, when suddenly the temperature of your body got higher. You didnt know why that happened but at first you didnt mind, a few hours later you felt so tired and decide to rest a little. It didnt help much cause you got a sore throat and even a cold, you felt so vulnerable at that time as u couldnt even stand up. Your throat was aching so bad, your bed was covered with a lot of handkerchiefs, you just couldnt take it.
“babe, can you- *sneezed* can you come over.. im feeling a little..” you couldnt even finish that phrase that ur phone fall down by your hand and you faint.
“Love?? Youre okay??” Miguel asked as the call was still up, when he didnt received an answer but just heard the phone fell down, he quickly stopped on what he was doing and he turned into spider man to do it as fast as possible, he came out of the building and started throwing cobwebs for the skyscrapers, in all it took only 2 minutes to get home.
His heart was pounding, not knowing what had happened to you, he thought of the worst. He immediately opened the door and ran to your room, until he saw you that you had fainted.
“Please wake up” he said as he gently put a wet cloth on your forehead and raised your legs so that the blood would spin. His look was a lot worried, you were very important to him, he didn't want to lose someone like you, he spent good times together with you, he felt comfortable by your side, you were the only person who could understand him, the only one who was there in the moment of need, now he wouldn't let you down.
Your eyes opened slowly, murmuring incomprehensible words, when Miguel had noticed it he hugged you softly, feeling how vulnerable you were at the time. He just wanted you to be okay, he didn't want anything else at that moment.
“Im here for you treasure, just tell me what you need, do you want some water?” He asked you holding your hand, sitting on the edge of the bed.
You nodded because you didn't even have the strength to talk, he immediately went to the kitchen to bring you a glass, he even brought you a medicinal in such a way as to get rid of your sore throat and a little fever.
“Miguel, what would i do without you” you said as he mixed the medicines into the water, putting a hand in his face, he had put his hand on top of yours.
“I can't lose you, love, youre too important to me” his voice sounded so sweet and sincere, you loved when Miguel opened up to you emotionally, without him you probably would never have been able to get up, he was always there for you, he was always available and ready to help you.
A few hours later you felt better thanks to the medicines, Miguel had stayed all that time in your room and bringing you food or drink, he had sat in the bed next to you while you were watching tv, you had laughed and joked.
“Do you feel better darling?” He asked you by looking directly into your eyes.
“Yeah, i think tomorrow all this will be gone, just because of you” you smiled softly at him.
You kept watching TV together until you fell asleep in his chest, he stroked your hair and gently kissed your forehead.
“I'll love you forever” he whispered as he watched you sleep and arranged the blanket better on you.
You weren't completely asleep yet, at that comment you smiled slightly and squeezed him slightly more.
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coeurdedior · 3 months
Text
It’s always « poor Lulu » and never « poor Elain ».
Elain who had a mother who didn’t care about her. A mother who only cared about Elain’s beauty and what that beauty could bring her. A mother who didn’t believe in her. A mother who said she had no ambition, and that she only cared about her gardens. A mother who wanted Elain to have an advantageous marriage.
Elain who saw her father’s death. ( and maybe she feels guilty for his death for not arriving sooner. The fact she said nothing could have saved him. Did she have to make a choice between saving Nesta and Cassian or her father ? A life for a life. We don't know if changing the future can have consequences. )
Elain who saw both of her sisters almost die in front of her.
Elain who has been kidnapped two times. (And we don’t know her thoughts about it.)
Elain who was thrown in the cauldron. (Feyre literally said that Elain’s screams broke her heart and Nesta said she felt violated ») Also, the fact Elain was thrown the first one, she didn’t know if she would survive. She had to deal with pain, stress, fear and also, the humiliation when almost all of the men in the room laughed at her. Also, the fact she was almost naked in front of them.
Elain who had her heart broken by Graysen. He rejected her because she is a fae now. He didn’t accept her as she was. And during this time, she had to learn to love a body that people made her hate (people seems to forgot but for Nesta and Elain, Faes weren’t good people. They learned to fear and hate them.) All the sisters had to deal with this transition. Be the thing they learned to hate. They were humans and now they are faes. They saw their lives changed overnight.
Elain who had to deal with her new power. She was lost between reality and dreams. She saw and heard things that no one else saw and heard. She must have also thought she was crazy or something was wrong with her. Until Azriel told her she was a seer. She blinked and woke up. (And it makes me laugh when people said that she needed sunlight or see the gardens when it is written in the book that « she woke up »when Azriel told her she was a seer. You can’t make an interpretation when it’s literally written).
I also add that Elain was depressed in the beginning of ACOWAR. She wasn’t eating, she didn’t speak, she was staying in her bedroom.
And finally, Elain who had to deal with a mate while she is interested in someone else. A mate who reminder her of her trauma. A mate who reminds her the worst day of her life probably. (It’s also why I prefer Elriel than Elucien or even Gwynriel. The first meeting between two characters is very important to me, and the circumstances in which Gwynriel and Elucien met are just too sad. Elain and Gwyn look at them and they remember the worst day of their life, it’s not very romantic to me).
So, the lack of compassion for Elain is so incomprehensible. She’s literally the definition of suffer in silence.
And, I’am tired of seeing comment like « Lucien deserves to be happy ». They act like Lucien carried all the misery of the world on his shoulders.
All the characters suffered.
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