#tw for....belos in general

[lollytea]

(Part 4 of La La Land Machine exposition posts!! I know I've made way more than 4 but this is the part that's going in chronological order. Like I've talked about Hunter and hunlow in this au before but this is his formal introduction, like Willow got in part 1. I also got quite a lot more followers since I last rambled about this AU so linking the other parts if they wanna catch up. And if they want, they can look through the tag for all the additional info.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Anyway, I lied. We are only BEGINNING to talk about the hunlow slow burn. It's taken me long enough to set up Hunter and everything he's got going on. It sets up hunlow but they're not really close yet. But it won't even take that long to get the next post out because I am so excited to talk about them more)

Hunter Wittebane has lived his whole life wearing masks. He's been an actor before he developed object permanence. He was memorizing scripts by ear before he could fully read by himself.

Job after job, set after set, role after role. His environment is not only cutthroat competitive, but it's always in motion. Things never sit still. The biggest stability in his life was his Uncle Philip, whom Hunter loved intensely. Even if it felt like the only way he could express it was by bleeding.

But Hunter was only allowed to bleed in private. And if he wanted his Uncle to stroke his hair back and keep telling him he was special, he needed to prove it. He needed to be the second chance that he was born to be.

Hunter struggles to really understand who he is. Because he is seldom himself. If he's not playing a character, he's only known as the legacy of the Hollywood gem, Caleb Wittebane, Hunter's late father.

Hunter was quite sheltered as a child. Other than being out and about for business reasons, he didn't really get to experience much of the world. If he wasn't working, he was usually confined to his Uncle's house. Or hotel rooms. The only outings he goes on that are considered "personal" are to church.

He loves to read and he'll devour whatever book he gets his hands on. Unfortunately his options are limited to what his Uncle believes is appropriate. Philip views the world as a depraved and lecherous place, as are the people that inhabit it. If it weren't for this world and its poison, his brother would still be alive.

And then he wouldn't need to waste his time replicating his brother's likeness in some aimless weak willed child who can barely comprehend how important his performance is in all of this.

Philip refuses to allow outside forces to contaminate his nephew. If Caleb's soul is going to live on in the way it should have, they can't make a repeat of last time. Caleb's replacement has to remain on the right path, or his legacy goes up in flames.

The Bible is one of Hunter's top comfort reads. It's the only book that his Uncle seems pleased to know he's interested in. And he's pored over the pages so many times that the familiarity is soothing. It also puts the fear of God in him. As do Philip's frequent lessons. He's shaping up to be a very faithful little Christian.

Hunter also watches a lot of (Uncle approved) television. He's a tiny chatterbox but is pretty starved of socialization. If his Uncle isn't around, he's stuck with the family assistant Kiki, who usually ignores him. TV and books are mostly responsible for Hunter's expansive vocabulary.

As a shy but precocious little boy, his best friends are sweet, comforting preschool cartoon characters.

Even though Philip's life seemed to orbit around Hunter and he worked day and night for the sake of his nephew's success, a lot of the time he just....wasn't around. Sometimes Hunter went weeks without hearing from him and was left in the "care" of Kiki.

Hunter was always left wanting. On those lonely nights when Philip was away, he would beg Kiki to call him so Hunter could at least say goodnight. All for the sake of holding the phone tight against his ear and hearing his Uncle's soft spoken "Sleep well, Hunter," so his world felt a little less cold.

If Philip even answered.

But when Uncle was home, Hunter found himself with some very guilty feelings and ungrateful thoughts.

The details are not important. By that, I mean Hunter is quite uncomfortable recounting the things that used to happen in the Wittebane house when his Uncle was home.

He said them aloud once. At the age of sixteen, when his breathing was in sync with the girl he had fallen in love with and her fingers were tracing gentle paths down his bare back. He felt like he had melted into a world where he could say anything.

It didn't stop his voice from wavering nor his throat from threatening to close up. It was like he was having a full body rejection of the admission. These were secrets meant to remain locked up in his chest until his heart went still.

But he said them. And after that, they couldn't go back to being unsaid.

He didn't say them again for many years. It wasn't until he was a grown man. He wrote them down and he told the whole world.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

The point is that when Philip was away, Hunter got lonely and wanted his Uncle back. When Philip was home and focused all of his attention on his nephew, Hunter wanted nothing more than for him to be gone again. He knew that was an awful thing to want and the guilt ate him alive.

Did he not love his Uncle? Of course he did! He loved him more than anything.

That's why it hurt so much.

Sometimes, his Uncle was a comfort to Hunter's anxious heart. He held him in his arms and hushed him when Hunter had nightmares. He was safety.

And other times, he was the reason for those nightmares and Hunter didn't feel like he could be safe until that man was out of the house again.

Maybe, no matter what happened, he'd never be truly happy with any situation he was put in. Maybe the state of "being happy" just wasn't real, but a thing TV made up. There was just something inherently empty and scary about being alive.

At least that's the conclusion the small boy came to. This remained his mindset as he navigated the big loud upsetting world around him, which only got bigger and louder and more upsetting as Hunter got older and his career grew.

The most glaring problem Philip encountered grooming Hunter in Caleb's image was that there's a drastic difference between a man who achieved the most undiluted burst of stardom in his twenties and a toddler. Hunter can not immediately slide into the dignified shadow his father left behind, because he's too young for the kind of dramatic roles that Caleb had dazzled the world with.

There was nothing available to little Hunter that Philip felt lived up to the standards of Caleb in his prime. Which was understandable but disappointing. So, with a heavy exhale, which made Hunter worry the hem of this shirt ("Am I doing something wrong, Uncle?") Philip relented. Hunter would need a lengthy portfolio by the time he was older, so it was now time to start building this budding actor from the ground up.

Commercials, TV appearances, small film roles. Though it pained him to do so, Philip abandoned all the initial integrity he attached to his brother's legacy, and focused primarily on simply getting Hunter's face on a screen, any screen, whatever it took to get him entrenched in the industry.

Hunter was a lot more sensitive than other children. When he was very little, he had a bad tendency to get distressed over things like bright lights and unfamiliar places and weird textures. This led to a lot of on-set tantrums and he was deemed a difficult and entitled brat.

His "brattiness" never quite went away as he aged. But Philip did manage to curb those tendencies to be far less frequent. It involved brief private conversations in the nearest dressing room. When Hunter emerged, he was quieter and a lot more willing to co-operate with what the adults needed from him.

Hunter learned that misbehaving had consequences. He learned to swallow whatever obscure distress he was feeling and just do his job.

This didn't make his tantrums stop. They just shifted from regular occurances to big nasty explosions that build up over a period of weeks to months.

He eventually gave up trying to suppress them. It doesn't work. So, he just allows his emotions to burst out of him in the most humiliating public display a human being can put on, and then takes his punishment.

Uncle keeps telling him that people are going to think there's something wrong with him if he keeps doing this.

Hunter begs him to believe that there's not. There's not something wrong with him.

While it was happening, Philip would consider the 90s as a rocky beginning to his nephew's career. He didn't care much for any of the films or television series' Hunter appeared in, likely because he didn't care much for any production that included small children. So he was uninterested by default in any of the roles Hunter managed to book.

Regardless, this didn't make Philip any less demanding. Even if it was all tripe, and by God, he was very vocal about it all being tripe, he was still strict about Hunter's work ethic. The boy was expected to pour everything into his performance, and through there were very irritating child labor laws, Philip turned a blind eye to directors pushing the limits every now and again.

After long work days, Hunter would listen to his Uncle tear his current acting job to shreds. The stupid demeaning script that Caleb would be appalled at, but Hunter had no choice but to take, because he simply doesn't have the privilege to be picky.

Hunter felt a deep humiliation by his own career before he was even ten years of age. There was nothing that Philip held to Caleb standard, which left Hunter a paranoid wreck most of the time, fearing that he was always doing something wrong but never knowing how to fix it.

When he thinks back on being a little kid, he has a lot of memories of tearfully begging his Uncle to stop thinking of him a certain way or looking at him the way he does. He remembers his throat hurting. Things must have gotten loud.

An older Hunter would wince as he makes that connection. He remembers his throat hurting but not the consequences of raising his voice.

Every so often, a more prestigious opportunity presented itself to him (like the role of the protagonist's son in a film adaption of an American classic), and Hunter got so overwhelmed by the pressure of finally having something that could possibly hold a candle to Caleb Wittebane that he completely flubbed the audition and failed to book the role.

He knows that were dire consequences for not getting it. Although, once again, he doesn't remember the details of the punishment. But he remembers how tightly Uncle gripped his wrist as they walked out of the building. He remembers sitting perfectly still in the car, scared to make a sound by wriggling in his seat. Scared to breathe.

That was the 90s. That was Hunter's experience as a young child actor.

By the year 2000, he was ten and that's when Philip quietly realized something.

Hunter currently resembled Caleb Wittebane in miniature. He had his strong nose, his ashy hair, his dark eyes. Philip had always anticipated that there may be a bit of her in his nephew's appearance, but there wasn't a trace. It was beyond ideal.

This is when things should have gotten easier. This is when dignified job opportunities should have begun rolling in. This is when the world should have taken notice that Caleb Wittebane was not dead.

But this was not the case.

What Philip did not anticipate was that the industry had changed significantly since the 80s. It was the year 2000 and a young Caleb Wittebane was not what the industry wanted the future of film to look like.

He realized this in his study late one night as he obsessed over old video tapes. And once the truth had sunk in, he called Hunter into the room.

Hunter remembers wearing red pajamas patterned with beagle puppies. He has a memory of liking those pajamas a lot but can't recall the disappointment of growing out of them and throwing them away. It makes him suspect that at some point he just stopped wearing them.

On that night, a part of Philip gave up completely. He decided that this attempt of reviving his late brother's career was a failure before it had even started.

However, Philip was a deeply complex man. A remarkably stubborn man. So even when a part of him died, another part flared with life. It was the part of him that wanted to dig his heels in and say he wasn't done yet. Maybe they didn't want Caleb now, but this world was fickle. Who knows what they'd want in five years? In ten?

Hunter would continue making a name for himself, Philip would make sure of that.

Hunter would be something special if it damn near kills him.

And if he fails, Philip would kill the boy himself.

So, Hunter continues working diligently, attempting to find his footing in the rapidly changing environment. The early 2000s seem to be working overtime to distance itself from the 90s and it certainly takes some getting used to.

When Hunter is around eleven, he is told for the first time that he is not very nice to look at. According to various make up artists and hair stylists who he is left in the custody of when Kiki is god knows where, it's very easy to be cute as a small child. Baby fat n' all. But at a certain age, you start outgrowing it and that's when it becomes apparent whether you're going to be a handsome young man or not.

They gently break the news that there are not a lot of promising signs for Hunter. As one of the women, maybe in her late twenties, cups his face in her hands and tilts it towards the light (he really hates when strangers touch him), she sucks through her teeth and winces, as though she's trying to dig something out with her eyes but is coming up short. Nothing about his features reads as a future leading man. He can still have a steady acting career of course. But it's important he not get his hopes up too high. He's doesn't look like the typical Hollywood star.

Hunter argues with her. He riles himself up until his face flushes with rage. He looks just like his father, who was one of the most famous leading men of all time.

"Who's your Dad?" The woman asks.

Hunter frowns. He's never said the word "Dad" in his life. But the full name is familiar on his tongue when he answers the question.

"Oh, yeah," She says vaguely. "I think my parents used to watch his movies. I guess he was what they considered handsome in the 80s but..."

He doesn't like the way she trails off. He doesn't like all the new information being presented to him. He doesn't like her saying Caleb Wittebane wasn't handsome. In the world Hunter lives in, the man is picture perfect in every discernable way. He's never heard a bad word spoken of his father before, not even of the shallow variety. Uncle only lets him speak to people with nice things to say about Caleb. It's so jarring that it makes him feel nauseous. This isn't the way things are supposed to be.

And what's even worse, does looking like Caleb Wittebane not even matter?

Does this legacy he's supposed to carry on not matter?

That's always been one of his biggest fears, but he can not think about it for too long or the meltdown gets bad. But this new realization about his apparently mediocre looks catch him so off guard that he can't help it this time.

Hunter proceeds to hyperventilate in a supply closet for the next twenty minutes. He had never thought about what he looked like before. He had never really cared. He didn't know his appearance could hinder his career. He didn't know everything could fall apart just by having the face he does.

This is when a deep seated insecurity centered around his body image began spiraling out of control. It was also around the time that Hunter's dietary restrictions were being implemented, as were the intensity of his ballet lessons. This certainly did not help his already deteriorating self confidence.

From that point, Hunter is far more conscious of his own ambitions as an actor. He believes he is more than just a little boy who performs because it's what his Uncle tells him to do. He's a young man who wants to become a success like his father before him. He wants recognition. He wants acclaim. He wants...he wants....he wants something that he does not currently have.

As an adult, Hunter can only drag his fingers through his hair and sigh sympathetically at the thought of his young self believing that his determination to be a successful was ever for himself. It was for Uncle. It was for Caleb Wittebane. It was for everybody but himself. He was just a stupid kid who thought he wanted this because he knew nothing else.

The 2000s are a time when Hunter simultaneously starts slipping out of his iron confines, while getting reeled back tighter than ever. As he grows older, his curiosity becomes more and more insatiable and current pop culture is not as easy to shield him from. Especially when it's such a huge part of his life as an actor.

By the age of twelve, he's such a boring obedient self sufficient little robot that Kiki doesn't even bother monitoring him as severely as she once had. What's he gonna do, really?

And though Hunter is adamant that he never breaks his Uncle's rules, he finds himself shattering them to smithereens on a regular basis.

"I like authority. And rules," He says, ignoring the fact that there are piles of teen magazines tucked away under his mattress. Ignoring the hour of TV he sneaked in that Philip would have shattered the television screen over.

And no matter how many times Hunter wrinkles his nose in disapproval at how rowdy and frivolous today's youth are, he's still reading those trashy articles, desperate to find some connection. His small bubble of worldliness is beginning to grow.

It is slowly occuring to Hunter that he is much different than other kids. But that's a good thing....right? He's on a cleaner path than they are. None of them are being led by Philip Wittebane.

This is a good thing, he tells himself. This is a good thing, this is a good thing, this is a good thing--

However, Philip does crack down on an aspect of Hunter's autonomy that has been mostly ignored until now.

Though he tries not to think about it, as it gives him the most splitting headache, Philip must internally acknowledge those rumors from an age ago. The word of mouth telephone that crackled with the events of that one ridiculous party. Caleb Wittebane, age 17(!!!!) with his tongue down some filthy girl's throat.

The news hadn't been as scandalous as Philip viewed it as, and the world forgot about it remarkably fast. But he never forgot. And he never would. It was a pesky stain on the otherwise clean image that Philip was trying to preserve.

It hadn't been Caleb. It wasn't like him at all to behave in such an indecent way. It was her influence. It always was. Sometimes his blood boiled when he remembered how deeply interwoven she had become in his brother's life. How the child wouldn't even exist without her. It was vile. Eternally contaminating a narrative she had no business being a part of.

Obviously, he never told Hunter about all this. About the party. About the tongue. About the girl. He never mentioned the girl. She was a footnote at best.

Anyway, Hunter was almost thirteen. He was tumbling into adolescence. And no matter how singleminded and sensible he tried to act, there would be challenges to this physical and mental development. And Philip knew from personal experience that there was nothing more damaging to a clean Christian boy than fizzling teenage hormones.

There would not be a repeat of last time.

On Hunter's thirteenth birthday, his Uncle gifted him a chastity ring, like many of the other young people that attended their church.

Hunter was so floored by the gift he forgot how to speak. And when his Uncle put his hand on his shoulder and murmured "I know you won't let me down," Hunter had nodded solemnly, suddenly feeling so much older than he had been a moment before.

He now had a responsibility to refrain from things he hardly understood.

Philip felt this would be an effective precaution. It made Hunter feel important and Hunter loved to feel important.

All that concerned Philip was that the boy stick to his morals.

Keeping his stupid tongue in his stupid mouth was only the tip of the iceberg of what the rules of the chastity ring entailed, but Philip stressed the importance of it nonetheless.

And if the boy failed to do this one simple thing, Philip was going to gouge his eyes out.

A few months later, Hunter was hired to appear in an advertisement produced by his family's church. He, and several other actors in his age range, promoted the rings they wore to the children watching at home.

Hunter was very proud to be a part of it. He rarely got to do anything educational.

When Hunter was fourteen, he surprisingly booked a role as Sir William in some medieval fantasy film for swoony teen girls.

He rolled his eyes over it, but this was the point when Philip made it apparent to Hunter that swoony teen girls was a huge chunk of the target demographic of any actor his age so he best begin pandering. He was no Edric Blight (Hunter fucking hated Edric Blight) but he'd probably appeal to some.

The means of obtaining the role was not Hunter's talent alone, but it was because of a perfectionist director who wanted raw, emotionally gripping action scenes, and was disappointed that all the hazardous exploits in the script would require stunt doubles. No parent in their right mind would allow their child to be put in such dangerous conditions.

Enter Philip Wittebane and his nephew Hunter.

The film's shooting schedule had a rough history. And after a few months, production had to stop altogether when an on-set accident resulted in Hunter being sent to the hospital.

He remembers the hospital, specifically the very uncomfortable bed. He remembers rarely sleeping through the night unless he was drugged, as he kept waking up with panic attacks about all the money he was causing the studio to lose by not healing faster.

By the time the film released, Hunter was fifteen and already moving forward with his next project.

The Golden Guard was a TV adaption of a well loved comic book series that was currently in the development stages. Hunter has never read the comic (he's never read most comics, other than newspaper funny pages) but he's been informed that he is the spitting image of the titular character.

Initially he was skeptical. Who wants a famous superhero on their screen who looks like him? Certainly not current networks who have a very limited view of what leading men should look like, regardless of the comic it's being adapted from.

Apparently, a lot of negotiations have been taking place with the Golden Guard's creator, in order to obtain rights to the series. After months of arguing, they wore him down, as they always manage to wear creators down, and he agreed to hand over his baby.

The one condition that he managed to secure was that the boy cast for the screen resembled the boy on the page.

Hunter was fully aware that if it weren't for that old man's stubbornness, there was no way he would have been eligible for the role. He remembered seeing him appear once during a screen test and had wanted to thank him. The speech that fell out of him was flustered and clumsy, but it made the man smile.

"There are going to massacre the Golden Guard," He said with a bitter smile. "But I think you'll do well."

He never saw him again after that. And though Hunter did not have the frame of reference to have an opinion, the girl he would inevitably fall in love with happened to be a huge comic book nerd, being especially infatuated with the Golden Guard. And her opinions were strong.

"He was right, y'know," She would inform Hunter. "Your show is a steaming pile of shit." She would then kiss the tip of his nose. "But you're the best part of it."

Speaking of girls,

Hunter met Emira Blight a year prior when she and her twin brother also showed up for the chastity ring promotional ad. The two of them would have gotten fired for vandalizing the set and pranking the director if they weren't the most well known stars associated with the project.

Someone had tried to contact their mother to come get her children under control but she had failed to pick up the phone.

"Our precious little Mittens has an audition today," Emira explained, hands placed angelically behind her back.

"Until further notice, Mom has forgotten she has two other kids," Added Edric.

Emira smiled. "Like the next time she notices her stretch marks <33"

The two of them burst into giggles. They were left to be "disciplined" by members of the crew, who hadn't the faintest idea how to handle either of them.

Hunter had tried to avoid them while on set. He never had any personal encounters with them but he was well aware of their existence. They had been starring in twin centric comedies for the last decade or so, and were beloved talk show guests for being chatty, mischievous and overall "adorable."

Hunter found them obnoxious.

Edric more so than Emira. Especially lately, as the two were finally branching out into their own separate careers, rather than remaining a double act. Meaning Edric could be found sniffing around in the same auditions rooms as Hunter, going for the same roles.

Edric had a perfectly structured face, devoid of blemishes. He had the most photoshopped nose Hunter had ever seen, except he looked like that in real life apparently. He looked perfect and he was already a star to begin with. The roles were his the moment he stepped into the room.

But this wasn't about Edric. Edric was off somewhere else, performing the leading role in some teen musical movie that was going to become a worldwide phenomenon the moment it hit television screens.

This was about Emira, who had just been cast as Ruby Green, the Golden Guard's love interest.

Emira Blight was one of the most beautiful teenage girls in the entire world. Hunter knew this because he read it in a magazine once. More specifically, she placed 4th on the list, but that was still a pretty impressive accomplishment.

Hunter always had a difficult time deciphering the exact definition of beautiful. It was apparently a far different thing than what you would initially imagine.

From what he had gathered, it had nothing to do with being particularly interesting to look at, but having a nice and tidy face with all its features being a specific size and shape. He couldn't understand how one girl on that list could be in 8th place, while another could be in 3rd, as they all looked so startlingly similar.

That was what beautiful meant, he supposed.

There were definitely people that Hunter saw as beautiful in their own peculiar way. In the way that wasn't correct. Sometimes he saw them in movies from the 80s-90s. Sometimes he saw them in audition rooms, but they rarely booked the role.

Sometimes he even saw them on the street as the car drove past, people who made him sit up and want to look at them a little longer--

Girls. Girls on the street. Just girls. Only girls. It was only girls that he looked at on the street. It was only girls that he looked at ever.

Emira Blight had Edric's perfectly structured face, which made her beautiful in a celebrity kind of way, but also made Hunter want to look at her less. She had Rapunzel hair and a rail thin frame and, much to Hunter's dismay, she was taller than him.

The wardrobe department were given notes to add an extra few inches to the Golden Guard's boots.

"Little Prince indeed," The head stylist had murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Hunter to hear. An furious flush set his face aflame.

There were no screen test to determine Hunter and Emira's chemistry before the latter was cast, which resulted in hours of reshoots where they were chastised for the lack of romantic tension that they were putting into their performance.

To be perfectly honest, Hunter disliked Emira quite a bit and she disliked him too.

She carried her troublemaking tendencies from the promotional ad to the Golden Guard set, frequently wreaking havoc on the cast and crew.

Hunter had blown a gasket and berated her for it several times, but all she had done was smile her insufferable smile, roll her eyes and sing songingly tease him for being so uptight.

She made him mad. So uncomfortably mad. If he pulled the kind of stunts she pulled, without caring about the consequences, he would probably be dead by now.

Emira rarely got angry. Everything she did had this air of impish joy, but based on the way she spoke to Hunter, her opinion of him wasn't exactly glowing.

She called him arrogant, bossy, egotistical, to which he practically exploded in response. And then she made fun of how red in the face he got.

The only time Hunter ever saw Emira as anything less than her usual bombastic self was early in the morning, during hair and makeup.

"Are you washing your face, honey?"

"Yes," Answered Emira, looking smaller than ever in the makeup chair.

"Drinking plenty of water? Eating healthy? Staying away from junk food? Getting plenty of exercise?"

"Yes, yes, yes and yes," Emira's voice was quiet and automatic.

After a pause, she continued "It's not my fault."

The makeup artist hummed, unconvinced, which made Emira grip the seat so hard her fingers shook.

But the woman didn't push the matter any more and got to work on painting Emira's face into the porcelain masterpiece that made its way on to magazines.

Hunter watched in fascination as a few minutes of work with sponges and brushes wiped her skin clear of acne. And then she was what everyone around here would call beautiful once again.

When Emira noticed him looking, she said, in her usual playfully indifferent voice "I think Hunter's eyebags are getting worse."

"We know," The woman replied, exasperated.

The comment wasn't much, but it successfully corralled Hunter into his default mood. Not being enough. Any thoughts about Emira flew out the window, and he was back to fretting about his own inadequacy.

"And he's more sickly looking than usual," Emira decided to add.

"Well, maybe if he laid off the coffee. It's got him looking like a half-dead ghoul. No wonder it takes so long to make him look presentable."

It was a bad time for Hunter to be taking a sip of his takeaway cup. He frowned. "I've been awake since 4:30am."

"You should go to bed earlier then,"

"But I--"

"And kids shouldn't be drinking coffee at all."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Hush up. We've got work to do on this face and the last thing I need is to listen to you bitching again,"

Hunter glowered at her.

"You're gonna have wrinkles before you're 18 if you keep pouting like that."

He was so preoccupied with not throwing a temper tantrum that he didn't notice Emira leave the room.

The worst thing she ever did was while they were filming episode 3 and she had decided that Hunter's uptight behaviour deserved a humbling punishment. He didn't know how but she had somehow managed to break into his trailer and scavenged the place for something embarrassing.

This resulted in his stuffed frog Sprig being paraded around the set in Emira's arms as she declared the toy's owner to everyone who would listen in a high pitched trill. Everybody. She told everybody. Everybody knew about his toy. And now nobody was going to treat him seriously.

And when Hunter finally processed what was happening, all he had wanted to do was cry.

But he couldn't cry. Because fifteen year old boys don't cry. But he wanted to cry so badly that his usual screaming rage was nonexistent. He was just completely deflated.

He silently took the frog from Emira's possession and walked away. She had seemed confused, not understanding why he was not turning his funny red colour and yelling his head off.

She didn't bait him as much after that. She rarely spoke to him at all, outside of filming.

At one point she had randomly burst into his trailer, brandishing a magazine full of women in bikinis.

"For you!" She announced proudly. "A gift."

Hunter was a little slow on the uptake because a bikini magazine being within ten feet of his person was so incriminating that immediately thinking of the consequences nearly made him black out.

When he could speak again, he exploded "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?? GET THIS OUT OF HERE!!"

"No, no, listen," Emira insisted. "I know your Uncle is like. Super Christian--"

"So am I!"

"And I know you're never gonna get your hands on this stuff by yourself. So, I'm helping,"

"Why do you even have this?" Hunter demanded, disgusted.

Emira took more than half a second to answer. "It's Ed's."

As if anything on earth could have made Hunter want to touch the thing less.

"Why..." He began, lost. "Why would you ever think I would want this?"

Emira cocked her head at him, puzzled. "You're a boy."

"Get out."

At the time, Hunter had presumed this to be another means of humiliating him, because he had quickly written Emira off as inexplicably cruel. But in hindsight, she had probably just been trying, in her own emotionally stunted way, to apologize to him. She had known next to nothing about boys and she knew even less about herself, other than she was a thing boys were meant to be obsessed with.

They were both just stupid kids who couldn't communicate properly to save their lives, because they had never learned how.

As a child, Emira ranged from a mild bully to an indifferent co-star, to an acquaintance of Hunter's. As an adult, she was the close friend in his Instagram comments section who kept hitting on his wife.

She still never figured out boys, but she figured out herself.

But again, getting ahead of ourselves.

Despite being the only two teenagers on set, Hunter and Emira did not spend much time together unless they were working. Once she settled down and stopped causing problems, Emira spent a lot of her time across the studio to visit her little sister, who was filming some preteen comedy show.

Hexside it was called. Some some vapid sugary husk of a television production that had magic and witches, yet not an ounce of dignity. Hunter had become quite a ruthless critic when it came to TV and film, mostly because he had spent his whole life in the company of a man with sky high standards.

It also helped him feel better about his own work as an actor. The glass half full method. Maybe the Golden Guard was not going to be the most brilliant show of all time, but at least he wasn't working on Hexside.

He had caught glimpses of Emira's sister a few times around the studio, mostly because her hair had been dyed a bright garish teal, so she was impossible to miss.

There were other cast members scattered about, you could usually tell from the explosion of layers and clashing patterns they were dressed in. Chunky belts, brightly coloured converse, weird pointy hats, jangly jewelry. They were a visual overload.

On one occasion, Hunter was waiting in line at the canteen. He was feeling lightheaded again, like if he didn't eat something in the next hour he would probably pass out while shooting. The last time that happened, it was really embarrassing.

He was a little zoned out, so he didn't pay them much attention at first. But then the poofy tutu-like skirt and zebra print leggings caught his eye, if only for him to wonder how in the Lord's name these young actors ever signed up for this ridiculous show.

It was a girl and a boy and their conversation entailed some familiar words and names that Hunter hadn't heard said in months.

Ah. The movie. The swoony teen girl movie. That had just released in theaters, hadn't it?

That's when the girl brazenly stated "I wanna sink my teeth into Sir William," successfully knocking Hunter straight out of the realm of sensibility.

What. In the name of all that is holy. Is that supposed to mean???

And also.....he's Sir William.

"You want to BITE ME??" Hunter finds himself blurting out, completely flummoxed. Was that a threat of violence? Did she not like his performance? Did she find his voice annoying like those other film critics? He used to get a lot of death threats for that when he was younger but...

It didn't really sound like a death threat. It was was just....absurd. How was he supposed to take this?

The girl whipped around, flashing Hunter with a very bright pair of green eyes. They were blown wide in panic, and she looked at him like he was the one about to bite her.

(He wasn't about to bite her.)

The girl wasn't tall, but she was big. Broad shoulders and a thick chubby build. Her face was rounder than he usually saw in young actresses, and her nose was wide and flat.

All he could really think as he was digesting these all details at once was....she was interesting to look at.

Hunter watched as a fluorescent shade of pink burned across her lightly freckled cheeks and the girl scurried away, flanked by the younger boy, calling after her.

For some reason, Hunter turned around to watch her leave until she was completely out of sight.

He was left more confused than ever.

What did he do that deserved biting? He never found out.

(Well, he found out eventually but....)

He continued to see that girl around the studio sometimes, as well as the young boy that accompanied her, and Emira's little sister.

The bigger girl usually tried to hide whenever she saw him, though Hexside's flamboyant wardrobe department made that nearly impossible. Hunter presumed she was embarrassed by what she said, though he really wasn't all that offended. He had heard way worse. The thing that drew his attention to her was actually the lengths she would go to to make herself invisible. He watched her dive under a table once.

Hunter usually just stared, not remembering until an hour later that embarrassed people don't like being stared at.

Eventually, Hunter and Emira started spending occasional school hours with the Hexside cast's tutor, which resulted in them all being lumped in a room together.

Her name was Willow Park, he learned. And with a little exposure therapy, she stopped blushing every time he was within ten feet of her. Though they still never really talked, she seemed to become a little more comfortable with his existence.

She didn't look at him much though. Or anybody for that matter. She seemed to be very guarded and closed off whenever they were in the school room. Hunter had also noticed that the tutor had to spend more time with her than anyone else.

But Willow Park was not currently where Hunter's head was at the moment. He had other things to deal with.

The recent Golden Guard script had been delivered to Hunter and did not really like what it had to say.

Apparently several episodes of the romantic tension that Hunter and Emira were famously bad at was finally coming to fruition in this big grand dramatic kiss scene.

Hunter did not think about kissing much because it made him feel very weird and squirmy, but he was always well aware that if he was ever kissing a girl anytime soon, it would probably be circumstances like this.

His opinion on romance in general is that he wasn't quite sure if it was something that could really happen in real life or if it was just a concept made up for TV.

First kisses were considered a milestone in the shows and magazines Hunter had secretly devoured. Something sacred and significant. It can't be with just anyone.

Admittedly, it had Hunter second guessing himself a little bit. Is his first kiss important? Or is that just a bunch of silly TV fluff with no grounds in reality?

It doesn't matter if it's Emira, does it? He's read books where first kisses are supposed to feel like you've been electrocuted. But in a good way. He can't imagine being electrocuted in a good way.

He gets his answer on the day of shooting when the kiss is ordered of him.

He should be grateful that they've been directed to keep it chaste. They both wear rings after all, and this is a family show.

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, because eyes are always shut when people kiss in movies. And his mouth pricks Emira's mouth. And that's it. That's his first kiss over and done with.

And when he opens his eyes, a little underwhelmed and vaguely wondering why everything feels the exact same, Emira looks disappointed too.

That's when he realizes that the significance of first kisses is all lights and cameras. It's made up for TV. None of it is real.

But what he can't understand in the moment is why he feels a bit sad. There's no reason to feel sad.

But it's an annoyingly heavy emotion that sticks with him for the rest of the day.

They do a million shoots. Or what feels like a million. Hunter kisses Emira what feels like a million times. He had gone from having never kissed before to having kissed far too many times in one day.

And not a single kiss felt like anything but the usual emptiness that Hunter was used to.

During shooting breaks, he thought a little too much about how everything was just going to be like this. Forever. All of his experiences. Scripted. Made up. Not real.

Nothing was ever going to be real.

He didn't usually think about things like that. But now he was finding it hard to think about anything else.

Hunter couldn't sleep that night. You would think he'd sleep soundly when he had to get up before the crack of dawn, but he continued to struggle. Too much caffeine, too much brain bees that never shut up.

Tonight it was that one single thought of an entirely artificial lifetime.

Hunter was never going to be real.

After hours of restless tossing and turning, he left his bed and went downstairs, his footsteps expertly navigating across the creaky floorboards. He would watch something terrible on TV and he'd get so distracted by hating it that he'd forget his own problems.

After pushing a button, the first thing that appeared on Hunter's screen was a familiar girl's rounder than average face and bright green eyes.

Apparently, the Hexside Pilot had premiered recently. Hunter scoffed, making himself comfortable and deliberately tuning into whatever brain rotting stuff he was about to experience.

Unsurprisingly, he hated it. It was terrible. Cheap jokes. Flimsy plots. An obnoxious laugh track. He had never seen a worse show in his life.

Nothing is real, I'm not real, I'm not real, Nothing is real, I'm not real....

The costumes looked just as ridiculous on screen as they did in the studio.

Nothing is real....

The sets were cheap.

I'm not real....

Hunter abruptly paused mid laugh track, and stared at Willow Park's interesting face for an additional moment.

He knew absolutely nothing about this girl. Absolutely nothing.

The character she played was borderline illiterate, and Hunter genuinely could not say how much of her he was seeing was a script and how much was her.

But she was very lookable.

Are you real?

#tw child abuse #a lot of it!!!!! #tw for....belos in general #how do i even tag this. he's really creepy and it delves into a few uncomfortable subjects #some very weird policing of teenage bodies. it is meant to be weird i promise you #tw religious trauma #THATS IT!!! that is certainly a thing that is happening #La La Land Machine AU

[imsosocold]

Viewing Belos’s religious fanaticism with the philosophies of determinism and dramaturgy in mind only made me appreciate his character more. 

#What’s scarier than God not caring about you is God caring about you solely as a form of entertainment #Not just being a vessel made for eternal servitude but for entertainment as well #Free will is how far you can deviate from a script without going off page completely #Just the general religious contradiction where you’re taught you’re both unique and expendable #Philip’s largest audience are the antagonists to his story #Yes I had existential crises about this lol #toh #emperor belos #philip wittebane #religion #tw religion mention #noelle’s rambles

[jesternighttight]

BloodDonor AU explained!

TW for: Abuse, kidnapping, blood, and generally sad stuff (Text under the cut)

Belos found out King is a titan. And now he has an idea, his idea is that he'll convince King to give himself up to Belos by telling him if he didn't do that he'd kill Luz, Eda, and everyone he loved. King, being a scared and worried child, accepted. Belos is keeping King in a cage(literally) in his "work space" to "harvest" his blood. He is using King as an infinite supply of titans blood, for which King, can't do anything about it in pure and utter fear of his family being hurt. The collector seeing this over time knew King was his key to being free, after all, Belos had been telling them that the key to freedom was titans blood. But after awhile the collector fell in love with King, feeling sympathetic almost. This forced him to become mature about it and try and side with Eda and Luz to save King the best he could while still trapped. Meanwhile Kings world view has changed. He's mad at the world. He's mad that the universe is against him. Hes so weak, he can't even get up properly. Constantly with an almost aggravated attitude. He's traumatized. And it's all thanks to Belos.

#collectking #tw blood #tw torture #tw kidnapping #general trigger warning #this is a dark au #the owl house #angst #major angst #the au was made with my friend #and it was made long before the finale #and before a lot of stuff #screw belos #we all hate bd!belos in this household

[archive-double-knots]

idk what this is but it felt good to write so take it lol

Caleb’s body was cold, and the blood was soaking into the fabric on her shirt. Where was Evelyn? Where was anyone? Thomasin’s hands are shaking, as she tries to feel for a pulse, tries to cling to any last shred of hope, but she knows it is too late. She knows–

The footsteps come up behind her, the familiar pattern and weight causing her to reach out faster than she can turn her head.

“Philip,” Thomasin says, staggering to her feet, although she’s weak in the knees and uneasy. Her own feet trip over themselves, and she practically tumbles into the younger man’s arms. “Philip, my god, Caleb–he’s–” She knows her words aren’t able to keep up with her emotions, tears trailing down her cheeks as the blood on her hands transfers to the shirt the other wore as she clung to him. His hands tighten on her arms, as if trying to both steady her and ground her.

“Tia,” Philip’s voice is steady, unwavering. Without looking at him, one might even assume the young man is trying to stay strong for the woman’s sake. But, as Thomasin’s blue eyes rise to meet his, she is chilled to the core at the look in his eyes. The emotionless, hollow look that his face has, that’s just barely holding back the glee in his eyes.

“Philip, what happened?” Thomasin’s voice just barely breaks past her throat, the desperation for an explanation coming in her tone. Her heart clinging to the idea that the young man she held so close would never do such a thing without good reason.

“I had too, Thomasin,” Philip says, his hands tightening on her arms. “It was the only way to save his soul.”

“Save…” Thomasin instinctively repeats Philip’s words, as her tears come to a startling halt. Her entire body tensing as she feels the same oppressive feeling when the accusations had begun to fly around the town hall. Her heart begins to race, her knees regain any strength they may need to run. But his hands do not let go, if only pulling her closer. Her eyes flicker downwards, glancing back up at him. “Are you going to try and save me too?” She finally asks.

“Of course I’ll save you, Tia, of course.” Philip answers as though it was the easiest choice in the world, even as she tries to pull away from him–

Three hundred years gone by, and nothing has changed, yet everything has.

His eyes no longer contain the joyous revelation they once did, instead replaced with a desperation down to his bones, however many remain. Yet, his hands are just as tight on her arms, if not tighter. Fingerprint shaped bruises forming against her skin, as she tries to get away.

“Let go of me.” Thomasin growls, hands pushing against his chest–but when it came to terms of brute strength, she was no match for the thing that was no longer a man.

“You should have stayed,” His voice is as calm as it ever is, not displaying an ounce of his true emotion. The very voice that had tricked her and betrayed his brother. “We could have changed the world, Tia.”

“Don’t call me that-”

“We could have saved all these souls. We could have done what God wanted us too. Together, we could have–” His words are cut short as her nails catch his lip in their path, fresh marks appearing across his face as blackish-green sludge begins to ooze out of the new wounds. She is a caged animal in his arms, her eyes now illuminating as her body begins to shake.

“There is no ‘together’, there is no ‘we’--” Thomasin’s voice raises, as she glares at him. “There never was, and there never will be, Philip!” Her hands lift, shoving against his chest with the pale aqua that was her own magic. Just barely managing to get her out of his grasp, leaving two large holes in his chest where her palms had come in contact. The same sludge drips to the floor from the wounds, before slowly it closes his body back into a whole.

Her hands are shaking, but she finally manages to look at him once again. The realization of his motivations dawning on her like a kick to her gut. Her magic fizzles out as she slowly takes a step back–raising a hand to cover her mouth as she tries to keep herself from losing her stomach.

“Thomasin, listen to me–” His voice is rough now, desperation finally beginning to show on the very edges of his words.

“Is that why?” She asks, interrupting him, “Answer me! Is that why you killed him?” Thomasin knows the answer already, knows that she is the very reason that Caleb was killed all those years ago. Even if Philip refuses to admit it. “Because of your own sick fantasy?” Thomasin laughs, the sound hoarse and unfamiliar in her throat, as she runs her hands through her hair.

“You don't get-”

“I have never once thought of you that way.” Thomasin cuts off any attempt to gather her sympathy. “And I never would have.” Her eyes narrow,beginning to glow once more: “So, what the hell did you do, Pip?”

#the abuse of the backspace key; || meta; #you're sure you can change him but i know you won't; || belos&&thomasin; #tw religion #tw manipulation #tw toxic relationship #tw general #--; idk man i just #--; i dont write pip okay but #--; here it is #--; i just like to think about how tia cant see him as a different person and how much she geninuely cared for him thats all #--; also the blantant fact that she could have thought of him that way if she didnt know / if he hadnt been a bitch #--; idk its good

[eldritch-spouse]

Bro that whole fucking thing where Admin got stuck in a wall and fucked by the staff was POGGERS!!!!!

Can we get vice versa? As in TCE staff getting wall fucked??

TW: Noncon.

In reference to this post.

You know who loves this, don't you? Santi. It's not his first time "getting stuck" in a wall, and it won't be his last. He'll readily perk up upon being touched and you can probably hear him moaning and begging from the other side. Whether you choose to stuff his ass or suck him off, Santi's having a great time and he hopes someone shows up to fuck his face too. He wants you to call others, wants to be taken advantage of viciously.

Morell is dying. Like actually dying inside. The way he tenses as soon as you feather a hand over his ass, cursing obscenities through the wall, banging on it with his fists. Oh, there'll be trouble. You may get him to quiet down and hear him moan quietly if you only choose to touch his cock, but put even just a finger up his ass and this man will try to buck you off like a rabid bull. Make sure he cums from it so Morell is forced to admit anal isn't all that bad.

Gallon can't really get stuck in a wall. What could happen is that he'll take a small eternity to wedge himself out of a tight spot. In that span of time, he can easily angle his body to avoid penetration in certain spots, but he's still likely to get fondled in general and shudder about it.

Grimbly is also another one you should be careful with. Even if he looks small and helpless, Grimbly has sharp and fast legs, you'll get something punctured if he doesn't like where things are headed. Fortunately, so long as you're moderately gentle, Grimbly's happy to mewl and lean into what's being done to him, cock leaking between his clenched legs.

Patches is hard in very little time. He shudders ans gasps at the first touch, though might very quickly turn to begging and rasped cries. Part of him hopes he's absolutely torn apart, that you'll crush his balls and slash his skin, carve little messages there. Of course, you should punish him for finishing when things barely get started too.

Nebul will despise this day for the rest of his unlife. Because lots of people want to put him in his place, most of all you probably. You'll be able to hear his threats and feel the wall rumble with the intensity of his voice, but he's helpless. The only way Nebul can resist is by keeping as quiet as possible. And he clings to that viciously.

Vinnel is deathly afraid that somehow, someway, someone might succeed in ripping his suit- Which is unlikely. People will hump and try to free his cock, but he won't let them, spending the whole time berating whoever touches him for being gross little things who would pathetically grind on him. It's the only line of defense he has while he desperately tries to keep his erection from showing too much.

Belo is panicking so hard. Everytime he's touched, he puffs up and booms threats at whoever's there. And honestly, you'd need a sturdy fucking wall to keep him in place. He squawks and tries to lean away from touched to his slit and cock, trembles when his ass is spread and hopelessly goes limp at some point, asking for forgiveness from Krulu when he starts to take pleasure from his own assault.

Fank-e can honestly just demolish most walls. But. He might not, for some reason or another, maybe to prevent anything from falling onto his visor. He can and will take most of whatever's done to him giggling, enjoying it even. Until someone figures out how to remove Fank-e's cock/robussy and runs off with it. Then he'll get mad.

Sybastian is another one who's panicking, mostly because he hates the sensation of feeling trapped. He's going to try to shift into different things you'll have difficulty fucking, but if you assure him it's just you and you're not going to do something wild, Sybastian will actually spread his legs so you can touch him better. Do get him the fuck out of here though.

There's absolutely no wall that can keep Krulu contained. And even if you could, are you ready to seal yourself into a fate worse than death?

#Morell oc #Santi oc #Patches oc #Belo oc #Gallon oc #Nebul oc #Fank-e oc #Sybastian oc #Grimbly oc #Krulu oc

[xxlemon-chanxx]

Ok, what about if philip/belos has a partner toxic as him but they still love each other?

Now—there are a LOT of relationship dynamics that fall under the general “toxic” umbrella. I'm going to go ahead and explain the one my mind went to first when I initially read this ask, so it might not be the same version of “toxic” that you're thinking of. I'm sorry in advance!

Also, this is going to be more or less the same between Philip and Belos, so I'm not going to do two separate sections, and I'm just going to explain the one that I'd find more interesting narratively.

So—here’s the “toxic” relationship that I first imagined:

⚠️⚠️TW for suicide baiting and general emotionally abusive behaviors!⚠️⚠️

overly dependant, insecure SO who constantly needs reassurance and hangs off of Belos’s every action because they worry he’ll grow bored of them and leave them, and is overall very possessive of him to the point of being incapable of wanting to leave Belos’s side for even a moment + overly-controlling and manipulative Belos who revels in the idea that his love is too desperate to ever want to leave him despite his flaws.

S/O can barely stand it. Their husband constantly talks to countless people every day—its part of his job description as the annihilator of an entire populous! And there are so many talented, intelligent, and attractive witches that make up the castle staff. They can't help but feel that rush of anxiety in their chest when one of said witches needs to talk to their husband—seriously, why not give the news to them? They'd be more than happy to pass along the message to their husband if it was really THAT important.

Even when Belos tells them countless times that he'd never trade them for a witch, no matter how much venom is in his voice as he practically spits the word, there's that lingering doubt. They're so much prettier. Does he think those witches walking the halls are prettier than them? His gauntlet lingered by that coven head’s hand for a few moments too long for their tastes, surely that means he's having an abhorrent love affair with that witch.

Whenever their anxiety flares up like this, it inevitably ends in a freakout and breakdown. They’ll fall to their knees at Belos’s feet, clutching letters that were strictly business but had just enough reverent language from an underling for S/O to misconstrue as romantic or intimate feelings between them.

They’ll scream, they’ll cry, initially demanding to know why he'd trade them for a witch, after all they've given him. What do they have that they don't? What could they possibly offer him? Is it their body? They're prettier than me, is that it? Are they smarter than me? What is it, damn you? What? What? WHAT?

Then, after Belos manages to calm them down, that rage turns to sorrow as they realize that they snooped through their husband's possessions, his private, confidential letters to find evidence that didn't even exist. They’ll apologize incoherently, clutching at his robes, spewing promise after promise that this was going to be the last time, that they were never going to snoop again and please don't leave them because they can't imagine a world where he doesn't want them, and please, if he doesn't want them, they might just die. No, scratch that. They WILL die. They. Will. DIE. If he tosses them out like trash.

And as they fumble out their apologies and half-baked, empty, rehearsed promises, Belos simply wraps them in his arms, tucking their head under his chin as a soft, tired smile graces his lips. He knows this will not be the last time, but he can't bring himself to be too annoyed by it. After all, he does partially enjoy a few of the behaviors his beloved exhibits.

He loves the way they're practically attached to his hip. He loves the way he never has to worry whether or not they're truly loyal to him or if they genuinely love him. That desperation is so thick he could cut it with a knife and spread it on toast. He doesn't need to constantly have his hand in them like a sock puppet because they follow him around like a lovesick puppy, staying quiet and out of the way while he does the important work and then swooping in during down moments to squeeze in some affection and much-needed fishing for reassurance.

He still lies to them, obviously. His dishonesty is probably the biggest trigger for S/O’s insecurity. Nevertheless, S/O would never leave Belos because—well…who else would willingly put up with that level of inconvenience? And Belos would never want them to leave because that's the most loyal and devoted to him someone could possibly be, and they're a human who accepts him despite his issues. Why in the Hells would he ever give that up?

#philip wittebane #toh philip #belosfanstakeover #toh #toh emperor belos #emperor belos #belos wittebane #the owl house belos #toh belos #toh belos x reader #emperor belos x oc #emperor belos x reader #belos x oc #belos x reader

[waywardsunlight]

TW Child abuse/manipulation general Belos shenanigans. No spoilers past 3x01, please don’t add spoilers for 3x02 to this post.

Sometimes I think about how Belos targets kids and why, because he knows that kids are still developing and don’t always understand right from wrong, and also it seems like he just likes being around kids more because he feels like he can control them. He’s very aware of what’ll upset Luz, what’ll make her mad, and what to say to her to get what he wants. He’s even more in tune with Hunter, he kind of trains Hunter on certain words like “replacement” that set him off. Hunter’s backstory that he gives in Hunting Palismen is probably almost word for word what Belos taught him to say (he always highlights how Belos gives him the staff which would be important to him as a half-witch but Belos also highlights that himself which feels... interesting, as well as the fact that it sounds rehearsed a bit, because Hunter trails off and then he remembers where to go next with “And then Belos found me”), and Belos definitely taught Hunter to respond to physical violence specifically from him with the freeze reaction which is fucking awful (ex. Eclipse Lake, Hunting Palismen- Belos makes a sudden movement and in both of these Hunter goes silent and still, and then in King’s Tide, Hunter freezes up and goes silent when Belos addresses him). Finally, the Collector he has less control over but it kind of seems like the Collector looks up to him and Belos uses that against him. The Collector gave Belos secret magic, and helped him create the Grimwalkers, in exchange in a lot of ways for Belos’ friendship. Belos and the Collector even pinky swore that Belos would let him out, and Belos abuses that and uses his position of having something the Collector wants to force him to help him. 

I don’t have anything to say about Darius because we haven’t seen them interact directly or alone and we don’t know much about their relationship other than their vague past when Darius was likely a minor so. Yeah. Probably won’t get elaboration on that at this point but this is a History.

#the owl house #toh meta #tw child abuse #tw gaslighting #a small mention but Belos gaslights all three of them LMAO #could write a whole nother thing on that #this is open if you have a thought go ahead #just wait for 3x02 until the 21st though

[episodeoftv]

Round 1 of 8, Group 3 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Spongebob Squarepants: 2.15 The Secret Box/Band Geeks

Curiosity is killing Spongebob as he tries to invite out what is in the box that Patrick keeps with him: Squidward wants to form a marching band.

The Owl House: 2.16 Hollow Mind

tw abuse, genocide

A magical mishap transports Luz and Hunter into a new mindscape - and this one is a twisted nightmare.

Oh my god what an episode. Okay so this episode confirmed so many theories, presented so much lore and jumpstarted so many future developments in one swoop and I adore it so much for it.. I was expecting it to break me when I first saw the episode title and got to scream about it with friends and man did it deliver. First of all, it confirmed so much. It confirms the heavily implied fact that Belos is Phillip Wittebane, and also confirms the theory people had had for a while that Hunter is a Grimwalker. It introduced so much lore solely in the background, with portraits depicting the tragedy of the Wittebane brothers and highlighting Phillip/Belos's inability to stop being a crusty old hater. It confirms the fact that Belos has actively and consciously killed many, whether it's past Grimwalkers or just random witches who he tested sigils on and then left to die. It made the fact that there's still Belos apologists baffling. It gave a really close look at Belos in general, and made it so that even his mindscape was just a grand facade hiding his very bad crimes. It gave me what I consider peak character design (Belos's monster form) for the very first time. It also jumpstarted more than one arc, whether it's Hunter realizing that Belos sucks but also realizing that he could very easily be out to kill him now that he knows that Belos sucks, or Luz's feelings towards herself once she realize that she indirectly helped Belos get to where he is now, that being very close to being able to commit an actual genocide. It's just such an episode and I adore it

how do the owl house writers feel having written peak cinema. truly one of the most episodes of all time (perfect for this poll!). guy finds out literally everything he knew about his life was a lie and that he is a clone of his “uncle’s” brother whom he killed in cold blood, and has been making clones of and abusing and killing for the past four hundred years, and that he is about to commit genocide. girl finds out the man she innocently helped in exchange for helping her get home used her help to execute his plan and he would not have been able to get this close to genocide without her. aired on disney channel. the fandom did not fucking know what to do with themselves

#spongebob squarepants #spongebob #the owl house #toh #poll #polls #round1 #r1g3

[yandere-chocolate]

Yandere Collector x human Reader ~(Platonic)~

(There is absolutely 0 demand for this character as a yan & in general, but we’re still here.)

(Sorry for any grammar mistakes/misspellings)

(Btw, the Collectors age wasn’t entirely revealed yet, so they’re a teenager in this. Doesn’t make a difference, but thought you’d wanna know.)

(Scenerio: You are a human in the Boiling Isles. The Collector has been reduced back to their shadow form after the “Day Of Unity”)

TW: yandere content, implied abandonment, kidnapping

You were walking alone in the forest. You were lost & trying to find shelter, but it was too dark & the sounds of the creatures in the dark pulsed adrenaline through your veins. You had to get out of here. Out of “the Boiling Isle”.

You have no idea how you got here, you swear that you just woke up here, but that didn’t matter right now. Surviving did.

As you found some warm shelter you fell asleep there. You didn’t even notice the two glowing eyes on you.

“Hehe…a human! A human!” The Collector laughed excitedly, “a new friend! Oh, I won’t be alone anymore!” The large, glowing shadow ran across the room, spinning themselves in circles & loops. “After heartbreak, betrayal, & abandonment once again, finally I have found a brand new friend!” The Collector spun into a shadowy version of you, laughing. The shadow began making poems & rhymes, praising you for simply…existing.

When you woke up the next day, you almost screamed when you saw a glowing, moving shadow. Somehow…it was still dark. This can’t be normal….

“Hello, new friend!~” the shadow giggled, dancing around you. “What is your name?” You didn’t want to tell the strange being your name. “Don’t be afraid!” They said, “I’ve learned my lesson! Killing people makes you lonely…” he finished, hanging their head low. “W-What do you mean…?” You asked, the shadow perked up.

“Belos promised me a land with nine bright hues! Of fun & games, where no one would lose! But alas, I was deceived! betrayed, abused & left out to bleed. Beings still live here, though they had embark, for Belos & I have turned this land completely dark.” Throughout the poem, the shadow was dramatically throwing themselves everywhere, making extreme gestures & using their inhuman body to show scenes of what had happened, with “left out to bleed” & “of fun & games where no one would lose!” being just some examples.

“Now…” they started, “why don’t you tell me your name? We can’t be best friends if I don’t even know your name!” You backed away, a little nervous. “C’mooonnn!” he whined, “I showed you my trauma through rhymes & acting, the very least you could do is tell me your name!” It seemed as though the shadow was annoyed. “O-Okay…I’m (y/n)…” you muttered out & the shadow spun around in delight, “(y/n)! A human name! A real, human name! Hehehe! Oh, I haven’t had a human friend in so long!” They continued giggling, but smiled & held out their hand once they settled down. “I’m The Collector!” He said cheerfully��. You tried shaking his hand, but you just ended up touching the wall. “Hehe! You’re going to so fun to play with! What games do you like?! Hopscotch? Tag? Red Rover?! Hehehe! Human games are so fun!” The Collector laughed, twitching a little. “I won’t be alone anymore! I WON’T BE ALONE ANYMORE!” Suddenly, you felt physical hands grab you, “BECAUSE OF YOU MY FRIEND! We can play forever, & ever, & ever, & ever—it’ll be SO much FUN!” You tried to loosen his grip, but they wouldn’t budge. “Why are you….are you trying to get away…?” The Collector asked, seemingly hurt. “You…you do want to be my friend, right? I promise I’m fun! I promise to keep you happy!” The Collector’s grip tightened, feeling a swirl of extreme emotions, namely desperation. “I’ll protect you! We can play whatever games you want—talk about whatever you want! I can get you a home—a-a real one! A big one!—just-just…j-just…” The Collector was shivering, “breathing” heavily, eyes wide & on the verge of tears, “JUST DON’T LEAVE ME!! PLEASE!!” The Collector finally let go of you, backing away on the wall, hiding their head in their hands. “I-I can’t handle being alone! not anymore! NOT ANYMORE!” Vibrant stars swirled around the room, along with blue hues. “YOU’RE NOT LEAVING ME! I…I woN’T LET YOU!” The Collector screamed & you felt yourself pulled into the shadows.

…As you slowly woke up, you saw that you were in some black water, surrounded by glass-like cubes. “Ugh…” you groaned.

“Hello, friend!” You heard a familiar, cheery voice. This time, they appeared to be a more human-like entity, with just their half-yellow-half-blue skin being the only visible non-human trait. That, & their white hair.

“Who…are you?” You asked, rubbing your head. “I’m The Collector, silly! Hehe! Humans are so weird!” You froze. “WHY AM I HERE?!” You asked, upset. “Oh! Well, you can’t leave me here! Hehe! Oh, you’re cute when you’re mad, (y/n)!” The Collector then booped you, smiling.

“So…what game do you wanna play first?” Stars appeared in his eyes as he said this.

Well, there’s no going back now.

But you’re getting out.

You refuse to stay with this insane kid forever.

#yandere #yanderecore #yandere blog #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere owl house collector #yandere the owl house #yandere the collector #yandere toh #yandere toh collector #yandere oneshot

[ultimate-blorbo-collector]

Belos with a human who’s a monster hunter

I made an OC who’s a vampire hunter, but I’m still developing them and making changes. I don’t want to post about them yet, but here are some of the ideas I’ve come up with. Although the OC I had in mind while writing this is a vampire hunter, this could apply to any self-insert or OC that hunts creatures from folklore, beasts from the demon realm, etc.

TW and CW for manipulation, gaslighting (literally altering/destroying memories), and isolation for Belos because what post about Belos isn’t going to have that? You could also consider it yandere if you want, but it's really just him being super manipulative and possessive. Also, warning for spoilers for Season 2, I guess. There's also nothing explicitly romantic in here, so this could be platonic.

He is so excited that you have something in common, or at least he thinks you do. If you want to add witch-hunting into the mix, he’s ecstatic.

He doesn't tell you that he's a witch hunter right away, just in case the Isles has warped your mind as well. He tests the waters with you. Depending on how you feel about the witches, it could take years for him to tell you, or he might never tell you.

No matter what, he isolates you. While it varies, depending on how secure he feels with you and whether he trusts you, he's not letting anything corrupt you. At the most, he might teach you some things to keep you safe, but he would show you the glyph rather than any concepts.

No matter how secure he feels, he's convinced that it's his duty to protect you. You got stuck in the demon realm for a reason, and that reason is to either help him fight or help him remember what he's fighting for.

Depending on whether or not he’s completely honest with you, he probably tries to convince you to join him through the fact that your goals overlap. If you hunt anything humanoid, they are probably witches as well. If you hunt the beast-like demons on the Boiling Isles, he’ll probably tell you that they will die off without the witches helping them, even if that’s not true.

While he is extremely protective of you and you will have to convince him to let you continue your hunting, it is possible. He encourages and praises you, regardless of the outcome. Before you leave to hunt, he makes sure you have all of your supplies and sends you with multiple scouts to make sure you’re safe. When you come back, he showers you in affection.

If you do want to start witch hunting or at least are indifferent to the lives of witches, consider the following:

Mr. Witch Hunter General is absolutely giving you a title. It'll mostly be up to you, but he might suggest general (if you want to be considered equal), aide-de-camp, or lieutenant general.

He absolutely teaches you all the tricks he knows and asks you to do the same. Traps, general knowledge, knots, and fighting techniques are all fair game between you two.

If you want to actively help, he’s so glad, but there’s a pretty high chance that he won’t let you. He’s super protective over you and hates the idea of you doing anything without him. He has his plan figured out, so he feels the most you can do to help is to keep him company. His puritan upbringing also doesn’t help with this, regardless of your gender and whether he’s moved on from that kind of thinking.

He hopes that he can help you with your monster-hunting once the witches are taken care of. Just like your monster-hunting skills translate to witch-hunting, his witch-hunting skills should translate to monster-hunting.

If not:

If he does decide to tell you that he's a witch hunter or human, he lies to you about other things since he realizes that his methods seem extreme and cruel, despite him being absolutely right.

Depending on what he thinks you would believe, he might tell you that the Day of Unity only leaves witches powerless, that it’s simply a way to open the portal, or he could tell a modified version of the lie he tells everyone else.

Also, if you find out something you weren't supposed to, he isn't above going into your mindscape or using magic to alter your memories. He'd prefer not to, and he'll try convincing you first. If you're so cross that you won't listen to him, he'll turn to that.

This dude is manipulative and will subtly manipulate you until you’re on his side about the witches. He’ll lie to you and the witches around you, just starting shit until he’s basically the only one you have good interactions with.

Kinda obvious since he uses a similar tactic in canon, but he will get witches to attack you. Sometimes, he will "protect" you, but at other times, he'll leave you to take care of it.

#emperor belos #Belos #belos x reader #philip wittebane x reader #simp list #yandere #yandere belos #yandere philip wittebane #toh #the owl house

[hxney-lemcn]

Hello! 😊 Can I request a fluffy headcanon about Fluff relationship with his shy!fem!human! reader for Hunter (toh)? Please?? ~🌼

Summary: General relationship headcanons with Hunter.

tw: none

a/n: This is my second time doing headcanons so I hope they aren't that bad T_T

wc: 0.4k

Master List

❥ Being raised in the Emperor’s coven, Hunter has no idea how relationships work. Like, of any kind. He literally thought friends back stab each other because he thought the head covens were friends. So this is all new territory for him and you have to lead him through it. 

❥ I think Hunter’s love language is acts of service. You complain about having to do something? Don’t worry about it, Hunter will do it for you. It was something instilled in him from the coven. Of course that’s how Belos raised him, prove your worth to be worthy of praise. Hunter knows you aren’t like that, but it's something ingrained in him. He wants to show his worth to be your partner, the praise is a plus. 

❥ PRAISE THIS BOY! He’s so used to condescending praise from Belos when he did something right. He’s not used to the genuine praise you give him. It makes him all warm, fluttery, and happy. He just can’t get enough! It makes him feel needed, like he isn’t worthless. Which he isn’t. So continue to shower him with love! 

❥ Affection on the other hand…that’s a tricky thing when it comes to him. In the beginning of the relationship, he wasn’t really sure of affection. He wasn’t used to being so close to someone, physically and emotionally. So it could be a lot for him. Ease him into it, start with head pats and holding hands. 

❥ Once he gets used to the small stuff, he starts to crave more. But he’s not sure how to articulate that. You notice the subtle hints though. The way his gaze lingers on where you touched him, how he seems to subconsciously lean closer to you in private after you hug him. And when you show him the world of cuddling, he will never turn back.

❥ PDA is a whole other thing. Hunter doesn’t like anything more than hand holding or a small hug in greeting. Besides, you don’t want to make anyone around you uncomfortable. So you both agreed to keep that sorta stuff private. Besides, it makes the time you two get alone all the more memorable. 

❥ Fighting is at a minimum. When you try to help Hunter with some of his bad habits, he may snap at you and a fight ensues, but he can’t stay angry at you for long. In fact he fears he’ll lose you due to his own actions.

❥ Overall, you two are adorable. As Luz said, the second cutest couple, right after her and Amity. You help Hunter when he needs it, and in return he helps in any way he can. It’s cute, it's fluffy, and you two are happy. What else could you want?

#toh #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter toh #the golden guard #golden guard #anon request #x reader #toh hunter x reader #hunter toh x reader #the golden guard x reader #golden guard x reader #headcanon

[the-owl-house-takes]

tw: transphobia, homophobia, queerphobia, sexism, suicide mention, racism mention. Long post!

https://www.tumblr.com/the-owl-house-takes/732087162542096384/for-those-who-say-belos-has-never-been-canonically?source=share

Hi! History major here. You are correct that Puritans were homophobic (mostly in regards to gay men - lesbians were generally excluded from persecution; however, this is not acceptance, so much as it is casual sexism. Keep in mind, the targeting of gay man while largely ignoring lesbians is very common practice, even to this day!) Puritans' biggest issue with gay men was that they were firm believers in God's law, and homosexuality contradicted their "one man, one woman" worldview laid out in the Bible. Gay men also might not produce children - and keep in mind how important fertility is for fledgling colonies!

HOWEVER, while Puritans did enact laws against homosexuality (called "sodomy" laws), it's a mistake to claim they were always strictly enforced. Speaking generally (and this is consistent with most - if not all - historical civilizations), Puritans didn't give too many shits about gay men unless they were public about it, or if an accusation was politically convenient.

Your other statement that Puritans were transphobic is a little more complicated to unpack. First off, it's important to note that the idea of people being able to be "transgender" wasn't really a thing until very, very recently. Trans individuals certainly existed historically, but they did not have the language to describe themselves, nor the tools / resources to define themselves, and so they remained isolated cases: community 'oddities', scandalous news segments, and - in the case of intersex individuals - legal dilemmas.

Similarly, transphobia is even newer than transgenderism. Just like the Puritans with homosexuality, as more trans people began to come out in the late 1900's and early 2000's, within America at least, there were not many people who actually gave shits about it unless it was public or convenient for them. It is only within the last couple decades, and even more intensely in the last few years, that we have gotten our more traditional anti-trans bigots - the person you think of when you hear "transphobe", essentially.

Reasons for transphobia are more difficult to pin down than the history of its existence, but I think it's super important to note that it doesn't exist just for the sake of existing - there is a very practical reason for transphobes to be hateful. Ever heard of the "Southern Strategy"? It was a mid-1900's calculated move on the part of Republicans to gain votes by appealing to racism against African Americans. It pushed a lot of white voters further to the right. We see this again now with transphobia. People's discomfort with transgenderism is being used, as I write and as you read, as a political tool to gain votes. It's pushing formerly moderate Republicans or even voters on the fence deeper into conservative right-wing territory.

That was a lot of modern information, so let's move back to the Puritans. In this time period (the early/mid 1600's) they still have no conception of what or who trans people are. Thus, they have no clear enemy to give a shit about. Hopefully now it's a bit easier to understand why it's at best inaccurate to label Puritans transphobic.

I think it also might help to illustrate the point with a thought experiment. Present a trans person to your traditional bigoted conservative in America, and what are the arguments you'll generally hear? (In between the streams of vitriol, I mean.) More likely than not: "It's unnatural" (who cares), "it's unfair to put this sex with that sex on a sport's team" (not how that works), "children are being forced into permanent changes" (they're not), "it's not what Jesus would want" (who cares), "it sets a dangerous precedent" (it doesn't), "predators will use it to enter women's bathrooms" (not how that works), "people regret transitioning" (they don't), etc etc etc.

Now, present that same trans person to a Puritan. Too bad trans people didn't exist then so we can only speculate on what a Puritan might have - oh wait they existed then and we have a whole Wikipedia article on one such individual: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas(ine)_Hall. Hall lived in colonial Virginia and was intersex. They were not systemically persecuted in the sense that laws were already in place to deny them rights; in fact, they were brought to court because they were confusing their neighbors so much! Jamestown ruled they were "both a man and a woman and must dress in male and female clothing simultaneously". The article has a lot of information on them - I encourage anyone interested to give it a read.

But that's before we got ways to transition effectively, you say, so how would your average Puritan react to a modern trans person? We have to assume they'd default to the way they treat gay men: first off, a gander through the Bible to establish precedent. Oh wait, there's nothing in the Bible with explicit laws against it, they would realize. But, they might catch on to: "Male and female he created them..." and feel that trans people are therefore contradicting God's will (just as how gay men contradict God's will that people "be fruitful and multiply"). Then, a Puritan would assess the situation with regard to what would benefit their colony the most. Are trans people producing children? Well, sometimes, but often no. Are they causing confusion and disordering society? Hell yeah! Conclusion? We'll discourage them, but also will probably just ignore them so long as they're mostly quiet about it.

Great, so that was a whole lot of boring historical word-vomit, but what does this mean for Philip Wittebane, you ask? My answer: given how queer-coded he is (this deserves its own post), and given general Puritan attitudes, I'm inclined to believe he does not give any shits about queer people. The most I could see is that he might be uncomfortable with the idea of gay men, and confused by trans people. But, again - on a meta level - his depiction as a character makes this an unlikely stance for him to take.

Lastly, I'll end this by complimenting your take that he is going along with LGBT life in the BI for political convenience. As it is with businesses, so it is with politicians - they'll sign off on anything so long as it nets them popular support! This tendency could be attributed to Belos being a manipulative person, but also keep in mind that sort of opportunism is common practice wherever power can be found.

I hope someone out there found this interesting :)

-

#long post #homophobia mention #transphobia mention #racism mention #the owl house #toh

[melodyofsky]

Yandere Adrian Graye

Sorry if it’s a bit confusing, had a random spark of inspiration.

 Based on this post here (If the creator is uncomfortable with me using this post then will take down) - 

https://at.tumblr.com/dopp-likes-yanderes/imagine-this-reader-who-works-in-the-emperors/qte1z6dpb9ju

TW: Yandere in general, mentions of stalking, blackmail, cornering reader, unwanted touch. 

Adrian Graye 

The man you’ve been avoiding since that blessing in disguise of a day off. When you woke up that day it had become apparent what happened the night before. The moment you had realized that you rushed out of bed, left some cash/snails to pay for the inn bill and left. But little did you know the certain coven head was already awake. 

Next few days were filled with paranoia. You served as guard captain under Belos so you had no reason to be paranoid that much but for some reason, you felt so insecure, like you were being watched. 

One while doing you rounds, kikimora you were called down for whatever reason. So you head down to her office and greeted with the one the only Adrian Fucking Graye Vernworth. 

“Holy fucking shit, no way.”

You think, as you enter. Kikimora gives a quick relay on why you were called here, “If you had not heard, the illusion head master was recently attacked, and has asked emperor Belos for a private guard, you have received that pleasure” She pauses to look at papers “Your shifts begin... tomorrow. You will receive a new schedule tonight. Do you understand?” You say yes in fear of what would happen if you refused. 

The next few days were anxious to say the least. “Does he like remember what happened on that day or like no?” you pondered. You were doing rounds around his area, until accidently running into a corner. You go to turn back but you are greeted with a looming shadow of none other then the coven head himself, Adrian

“Hello sire, how may I be of service of you as of right now.” You say with a bit of a quiver in your voice. “Yes, you can be of service of right now” “How so?” You question “Give me a kiss” He says bluntly with a smile “Excuse me sire?” 

“Did I not make myself clear? I said give me a kiss, not much maybe a peck on the cheek” At this point you’re trying to excuse yourself, without making it uncomfortable “Would you excuse me sire I-” “I said give me a kiss, not much, at least a peck on the cheek. After all you wouldn’t want a little lie about you sleeping with coven head for benefit running around now, would you?”  Well shit, you were stuck now. 

With no other options, you give him what he wants, a small peck on the cheeks, he waits for a moment then, moves out of your way, letting you know that you’re off duty for the rest of your day. He follows to your quarters, and lets you rest there. “Maybe a nap would do me some good...yeah that sounds nice.” You head to sleep. 

Meanwhile with Adrian, he feels like he’s just coming down from heaven. A kiss from his beloved. That night he saw you being cool in solitude and had a taste of you was when he fell in love for sure. He had been stalking making sure you were okay for quite a while and with that little sob story of him getting hurt and a illusions of bruises and such. He had scored the jackpot. With that little kiss of yours, you had just confirmed his delusions. 

You did love him, he was going to make sure of it. He has no intention of giving up.

#yandere adrian graye #yandere #yandere owl house #yandere toh #adrian graye #yandere x reader #toh graye

[meltingchaos]

Hunter's predecessor, Darius' mentor

I cannot stop thinking about the previous golden guards. They were all their own person with their own ideals, destined to meet the same twisted fate at the hands of the man they trusted most. Alas, I wanted to do little concept doodles of what the previous golden guard might of looked like.

Design notes (TW for abuse):

In terms of a name, I don't think Belos was very generous, he's probably called Hunter too

He wears his cloak on one side (I imagine Darius does the same now as a way of honouring his late mentor).

His hair is naturally brown but he dyed it blonde later in life. Belos probably prefers it that way

As Belos implied, not all the Golden guards looked exactly like Caleb, that is true with this version.

His facial scars were likely caused by Belos too. The slit along his lips was probably inflicted as an attempt to shut him up, now a constant reminder to never argue with the emperor.

The claw mark on his face are based on that scene where we see Belos scratch his throne and it leaves a mark. Belos' gauntlet armour appears to be very sharp.

He lived quite long for a grimwalker (to around his mid to late 30s).

He was created just after the empire was established, replacing the previous Golden guard

Him and Darius were very close and he was a great mentor. Darius really looked up to him. I imagine their relationship being like Hunter and Darius' current one but with the roles reversed. They were like family to each other.

He has the same slit in his left ear as Hunter and Belos (I don't know what it was caused by but I'm assuming it's some sort of mark of an artificial witch, seeing as both Belos and Hunter have it).

Oh boy that was some long text. If you're still reading thanks so much for your interest! I could ramble all day about this show lol.

#the owl house fanart #golden guard #darius owl house #the golden guard #previous golden guard #hunter owl house #toh fanart #toh darius #toh hunter #toh golden guard #owl house #toh hollow mind #toh spoilers #meltingchaosart

[eldritch-spouse]

HOLY SHIT

Loved the new fic with pegging Nebul😵‍💫🥴

Tho I did kinda feel bad for him 💀

Could you perhaps write a follow up to what happens the next day? Like how Nebul acts when he is sobered up and then having to face the entire group chat making fun of him😔😪

Maybe even later, him and Admin having a talk about what happened to him that caused him to use pearls?

(Also would Nebul be more wary or something like that around Admin considering,even tho it was a punishment, how wrong* and rape-y it was?💀)

*I know, bc they are monsters, that don't have morals and "wrong/right" but still, hope you get me🫠)

Anyway, have a good day/night, and I absolutely ADORE your fics, ur definitely one of my favourite acc on Tumblr 💜💜💜💜💜

[Thank ye anon! 🤍 I don't write follow ups much, if at all, but I can give this a general go. A couple of things here though:

1) There's no point in Nebul being wary of Admin. He knows very well what he signed up for when he took the deal to work under Krulu, just like any other of the workers there. If Admin walked into the room and demanded they bend over, they'd have to. And they know that's a possibility. They've consented to essentially living under Krulu's (and by extension your's) will, subtly. Will Nebul be colder afterwards? Probably. Does he justity her actions? No, not really. Does he understand they're part of what he signed up for? Yes;

2) While monsters inside The Clergy's Eye are all degenerates with a skewed sense of morality, if they have any at all, most monsters outside are part of civilized society and do have the same morals you'd find in a human. That's not to say feral monsters or evil ones don't exist, they sure do. Point is, everyone outside of TCE would call what went down between you and him rape. Clear as day.]

Part 2 of this fic.

TW: Mentions of past noncon, bullying(?), mentions of drug abuse.

He expected as much.

Some part of Nebul knew the "forced into submission" part was never the real punishment.

Waking up with a horribly sore ass and hundreds of notifications as his coworkers saw him get viciously exploited was. The sounds of him begging, crying, screaming in sensation forever immortalized in video form.

Well played, Admin, well played.

He didn't think you'd actually manage to shake him. Which is idiotic of him to assume, given you have an infinitely more knowledgeable entity on your side. Perhaps he really did have to get "put in his place", as much as it disgusts him to say so. One can never get too comfortable when working under these circumstances, and Nebul supposes the intoxicating power of the building's atmosphere got in his head, allowed him to procrastinate, dismiss, decide for his superiors.

Needless to say, they're very thorough with their punishments. Not that Nebul expected less, he's not the only one subjected to such.

Nothing quite could have prepared him for the moments where he entered the break floor, greeted by the entire team cackling and quipping as shameful echoes of his cries rang across the entire floor. The wraith didn't expect any less bullying than what he got. Alas, it's something he'll have to wait out and process, which is simple enough. It takes a lot more to break his spirit than equally degenerate monsters joking and jabbing at his expense.

At least Patches was smart enough to give him a soft "A day in my shoes, huh?" kind of look. Everyone else made it a point to get on the undead's nerves. Not that they succeeded much.

The robot would randomly blast soundbites of his own wailing as he passed by the shopkeeper, sometimes clips of him mid-orgasm. It was apparently hilarious enough to send Vinnel tripping as he hacked and cackled. Grimbly would taunt him with the possibility of uploading this video to a porn site, though Belo was there to caution him that such violates the agreements of his "work contract". He'd still hear Vinnel mocking him from his stage, loud and clear imitations of his noises, and he swears Morell's boisterous laughter was deep enough to be heard on the highest floor of The Clergy. Gallon was slightly softer about his mocking, at least to Nebul's face. And Sybastian, bless that half-wild mimic, didn't really have much to say apart from odd snickering.

Still, the wraith is anything but content with this, especially when he has to consistently shoo away the most persistent of his coworkers.

" You know, you sounded really hot in that video. " Santi slurs, half-drapped across his counter. He's not here to buy anything, just to pester. As usual. " Hotter than usual. "

" Mhm. " Nebul keeps cool, jotting down stocks.

" I jerked off so hard to it. " Of course he did. The wraith wishes, now more than ever, that he could roll his nonexistent eyes. " Why don't you give me a shot? I bet I can make you feel just a good, better maybe. "

" Have you considered bothering literally anyone else? " The demon is a weird case, he's not being nefarious in his approach, merely spotting an opportunity to eat. Still, he should know better by now.

" Come on, don't be like that, love. " The incubus laments, biting his lower lip. " There's no need to be ashamed, it feels good to get stuffe- "

The elevator dings, his salvation. Or so Nebul thought, until you stepped out. Fuck.

" Santi, give him a break, will you? "

The demon spins around, eyes brightening as he all but glues himself to you. " Oh, OH! Is this round two? I want in, please? Can I at least watch? "

You snort, lightly pushing him away. " Once was enough. "

Santi makes a displeased sort of sigh, wandering further into the perverted isles to soothe himself while you approach the shopkeeper with the same friendly look you'd give him any other day, as if nothing transpired yesterday.

" Let's have a talk, Nebul. " You begin softly, hands behind your back.

He knows that wasn't a request.

" Of course, my lady. "

The garden is calm, but then again, it's quite early. The clouds are heavy, a smog seems to settle in the air, moist and sickly.

He sits with you on a bench, a comfortable distance apart. Naturally, you note the awkward tilt of his hips.

" That did hurt, hm? " There's a proud glint to your eyes. And Nebul would feel offended, if he didn't know he would feel exactly the same way were he in your place.

" Naturally. You were harsh. "

Taking a sip of your coffee, a pause unfolds, calculated. " When am I not? Was there ever a time where I was soft? "

Fair enough, he supposes.

" I've threatened to drill into Fank-e's visor. I've dissolved parts of Gallon with corrosive substances. I've cut off and consumed chunks of Morell. There is nothing I won't do to make sure the rules of this establishment are respected. " You shrug. " Not that I particularly seek to do this, I prefer to reward you. "

" True. " Nebul gives you a look, silently asking why he was called here, to which you nod.

" Sybastian. "

He's confused for a moment, then the bench next to yours seems to jump, two yellow eyes sprouting from a leg. You don't even deign to stare at the monster, which is amusing to the undead.

" I know that's you. Bugger off for a bit. "

Sure enough, said bench quickly deforms into the tall mimic, and he skitters away on all fours, defeated.

" Small talk is not our modus operandi. " You start, gathering the wraith's attention. " Why do you use pearls? "

Why does he use pearls? It's something Nebul himself has pondered on. There's no clear answer, if he had one, he might have already dropped the habit. He's not sure what to tell you, though it's pleasantly surprising that you'd care. He supposes that, technically, you have to care, the health of your workers is important. But the wraith understands you also spare fondness for him, such is felt through your bond.

" You can talk to us, it'll die here. "

" I'm aware. "

" Take your time. "

And he does. Figuring there's no point dodging the topic. It's not as if he's ashamed of his actions.

" For as long as I've been aware of myself, I've felt a craving I could never satiate. " Nebul stares off. " This isn't uncommon for undead, as we all spawn from the unresolved turmoils of our living husks. Yet, at the time, I believed I was merely hungry. So I ate until I got sick, trying to cure this mystery ailment. "

You make a small noise of acknowledgement.

" The moment I discovered pearls is one I can't recall. But they... They filled me, Admin. They're giving me a taste of something I lost. Somehow. "

He feels vulnerable, Nebul doesn't like how much it's starting to hurt to talk about this.

" Something you lost when you were alive. " Your stare is pensive and intrusive, a taste of his own medicine, he supposes.

" I was never alive. Whoever that human was, that's not me. " The shopkeeper clarifies, finding himself a touch too reactive, defensive.

" Yes. My point still stands however, you're carrying someone else's burden and you're coping with it through psychostimulants. "

Brutal honesty, something he can appreciate in you. His mood still drops further. It's funny, Nebul feels worse now than he did when he woke up earlier today and realized what happened.

" That's not unheard of. Patches- "

" Patches carries his own sins on his back. " You interject. " He's had glimpses onto his past and he chooses not to remember more than he must. " Fingers cross on your lap, eyes glazing. He knows that look, Krulu's speaking to you. " You know nothing. You need closure. "

Nebul freezes. This type of powerlessness, of vulnerability, is much worse than getting turned into a submissive mess. He's realizing he'd rather bend over for you again than continue this conversation.

" Admin, I... "

" You need healing. You're not someone who hides from your problems, you will fix them, this is an order. " Your hand meets his clawed one, the grip firm. Through it, Nebul senses concern, a desire to help and comfort.

It cracks at him, hard. Harder than it should. He shakes minutely.

" I feel so empty. It doesn't go away, it never goes away. It's always so cold. I have no idea what he did, to make me this way, but it's unbearable. " The monster has to pause, catching himself before he could choke. It's so very foreign to let himself be open. " In all honesty, I don't think I want to know why I'm so empty. "

You sigh, stroking over his knuckles and nodding to yourself. " It's a process. I think it would benefit you in the long run. You need to let us know when you're ready to explore that. "

Nebul makes an ambivalent head gesture, deeply uncomfortable.

When you rise, he stays placid.

" Come on, let's watch Pebble's flying lesson with Belo. Last time he nearly broke the fountain, you know? "

That does make him chuckle quietly.

#Nebul oc #I just want to say that Admin's actions are inexcusable and I'm not trying to romanticize them in any way

[zipndlovu]

[keith powers] alto, quem vem lá? oh, só podia ser ariko banga ndlovu, o segundo em comando de 30 anos que veio do império rozvi. você quase se atrasou hoje, hein? eu sei que você é normalmente inteligente e cuidadoso, mas também sei que é bem convencido e rancoroso, então nem tente me enganar. ande, estão te esperando; entre pela porta de trás.

nascendo como uma criança extremamente forte, ariko ouviu da mãe que seu primeiro choro balançou a casa inteira. seu pai, por outro lado, começou a ficar fraco próximo ao seu nascimento e veio a morrer antes mesmo dele completar um ano de idade, piorando aos poucos até dar seu último suspiro e, foi assim, que danai precisou ser forte e cuidar de seu filho sozinha como poderia demonstrando sua força.

por ser uma mulher muito bonita, e principalmente muito admirável, tinha diversos homens encantados por ela, até mesmo homens ricos e poderosos, mas não dava bola para nenhum deles ao dedicar-se exclusivamente ao filho e ao trabalho que, muitas vezes, fazia com o filho ainda em seu colo ou bem próximo.

o menino então cresceu com uma grande admiração pela mãe, tinha prazer em ajudá-la ao máximo de suas habilidades e não dava a mesma nenhum trabalho desde que começou a aprender como cuidar de si mesmo. suas notas nos estudos eram incríveis, demonstrando que herdou toda sua inteligência do pai que costumava ser um fabricante de armas com uma inteligência infinita, e também se tornava cada dia mais forte e belo exatamente como a mãe deixando claro que as suas raízes eram fortes e que honraria o legado os pais. além disto, conseguia se sair bem nos treinamentos militares demonstrando que poderia escolher, por conta própria, o caminho que tomaria fosse usando sua força ou sua cabeça. ser um menino tão inteligente e bem educado não o impedia de ser criança também, afinal usava muito bem sua inteligência para aprontar poucas e boas com as pessoas de sua vilã ou amigos, tendo sempre inteligencia o suficiente para sair ileso dessas por mais que irritasse algumas pessoas do lugar mas o que poderiam fazer quando a mãe dele apenas ria ao ouvir as história e afirmar que, ao menos, todos estavam bem e deveriam levar aquilo de uma maneira mais leve.

os anos se passaram dessa forma, mãe e filho sempre juntos, como uma dupla que não podia ser separada ao menos até a chegada de um novo general a região. o homem não demorou a se encantar por danai, como muito outros, mas ele era diferente pois soube conquistar tanto a mulher quanto seu filho, ensinava o pequeno menino coisas novas todos os dias e aos poucos ambos se abriam um para o outro fazendo com que uma relação de grande afeto começasse a crescer. após dois anos de namoro veio enfim o casamento, ocorrido ali na vilã onde o menino cresceu e sendo um dos seus últimos dias na região pois alguns dias depois se mudaria para a capital assim como ocorreu e foi lá que tudo mudou.

tw: abuso verbal + abuso de poder

o grande general se mostrou uma pessoa completamente diferente após o casamento, quando estavam agora em uma cidade nova e afastado do que conheciam. tudo começou com os abusos verbais contra sua mãe, coisas pequenas como falar mal dos hábitos da mulher que não combinavam com os de alguém que tinha o status dela, até começarem a se tornar ofensas mais pesadas que logo foram seguidas pelas imposições ao menino. de acordo com o padrasto agora carregaria seu legado e deveria honrá-lo, deveria ser o melhor dos melhores e para isto não podia vacilar então começou ele mesmo a treinar ariko quando este chegava em casa de suas atividades, pouco se importando se ele estava ou não exausto ou tinha algum outro compromisso.

danai não tinha muito o que fazer, o poder do atual marido era muito devido ao seu status como general e braço direito do changamire, e todas as vezes que tentou intervir em apoio a sua mãe acabaram rendendo castigos horríveis para ariko ao ponto de que ambos decidiram aguentar aquilo até o momento em que pudessem sair daquele inferno que haviam entrado. aprenderam a focar nos pontos bons da sua mudança e no sonho de liberdade, sendo o principal desses a chegada da nova adição à família: zendaya. a pequena menina era a jóia preciosa tanto da mãe quanto do irmão e protegida por ambos de todos os abusos do pai, sendo ela uma das principais motivações para o menino aceitar os treinamentos em busca de, um dia, chegar a um cargo acima do padrasto e poder se livrar deste.

enquanto seus planos poderiam demorar bastante, o ndlovu aprendeu a encontrar outros pontos de equilíbrio em sua vida e, por mais que não fosse mais aquele menino travesso na maior parte do tempo, ainda conseguia se soltar com uma pessoa em especial que se tornou seu melhor amigo após seus primeiros anos de treinamento no novo ambiente, kudzai. o filho do changamire, por mais que mais velho, se tornou a principal companhia do menino que treinava junto a ele e também se divertia junto a ele, sendo esta uma das relações pessoais na qual o padrasto não se metia chegando até mesmo apoiá-la, assim como qualquer relação com outros filhos de seu líder, afinal queria que o menino ocupasse seu cargo em um futuro e estar próximo de um dos possíveis futuros changamire sempre ajudaria.

quando seu treinamento enfim acabou, por outro lado, seu inferno pessoal ainda não havia chegado ao fim porém estava próximo! no momento que um conflito surgiu e um grupo foi formado para ir junto ao general resolver a situação, o menino não pensou duas vezes antes de se oferecer e aproveitou a primeira chance que teve sozinho ao padrasto e alguns rebeldes para acabar não apenas com aqueles que eram seus inimigos como também com o mais velho, fazendo parecer com que a culpa tivesse sido daqueles que estavam contra eles o suficiente deixando assim seu nome limpo mas também sua família finalmente livre.

seguindo todo o teatro que deveria seguir, chegou até mesmo soltar algumas lágrimas no enterro do homem assim como sua mãe e a irmã, porém as lágrimas que escorriam por seus rostos não eram de tristeza, eram de alívio! a confissão do que havia feito saiu naturalmente de seus lábios diante da mãe, quando estavam sozinhos, assim como aconteceu quando esteve sozinho na presença do amigo de longa data que conhecia a realidade da família, mas apesar do número limitado de pessoas que sabiam a verdade sempre havia aquele que não acreditava tão fácil em seu teatro e os boatos de que havia sido ele a matar o padrasto se espalharam, sempre sendo ditos em sussurros afinal quem ousaria dizer algo para ele quando sabiam de sua ligação com kudzai? não eram tolos a este ponto, e nem mesmo existiam provas que pudessem confirmar suas teorias.

fim do tw.

sabendo agora que sua família estava segura, e que ninguém ousaria falar aqueles boatos para alguma das duas devido ao quanto eram amadas na região e também protegidas, sendo este um dos únicos legados positivos que o homem deixou, quando recebeu o convite do melhor amigo para acompanhá-lo em suas viagens para a austrália. tinha uma boa relação com a esposa do outro, assim como a família dela, mesmo que mantivesse sempre o respeito em primeiro lugar poderia até mesmo se considerar um amigo da mesma depois dos anos de convivência e tinha prazer em ajudá-los com o fortalecimento do exército até o momento em que a fatídica notícia chegou quando estava longe demais para poder fazer algo.

ainda sente, em parte, o peso de tudo que aconteceu, ainda mais por ter feito questão de manter-se forte pelo companheiro que tanto precisava dele naquele momento e nunca ter se permitido também sentir a perda de alguém que havia considerado uma amiga na época. tudo aquilo serviu para colocá-lo novamente de cara nos estudos buscando aprender mais e mais com o passado, lapidar suas habilidades cognitivas e se tornar cada dia mais um guerreiro melhor, queria impedir que aquilo pudesse acontecer com outra pessoa novamente assim como o companheiro. usou seu tempo para aprender mais sobre as armas, suas construções e modificações, começando a trabalhar por conta próprias nelas e chegou a receber da mãe os estudos de seu pai sobre elas buscando então, de maneira independente, terminar de desenvolver a última invenção que o homem nunca conseguiu completar.

#( ₪ ) about › it's the 𝗱𝗮𝘆 my 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗱𝗼𝗺 come!