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#[ but goddamn the implications it has too ]
roraimae · 2 years
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Inquisitor Casper Lavellan, officially having a bad time
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spiderwarden · 2 months
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OKAY OKAY! I know we all joke about Minthara and the skull being a Hamlet reference but I have actively TALKED about Hamlet on this blog before and we need a moment to reference this in a serious way, because the entire story of Hamlet is basically, get this, A STORY ABOUT AN OATH OF VENGEANCE!! And there is LOVE there is family murder, and someday I will go into a post about how aspects of Minthara's character has her represent different facets of this story because she is- by all means HAMLET, but she is also Ophelia, she is also Daisy Ridley's Ophelia.
I can also tell you EXACTLY what she is contemplating when she is 'contemplating a skull' because that particular soliloquy is LITERALLY a speech about death, and the musing of what follows it, questioning whether you deeds are worth it, the SUFFERING is worth all of this trouble if you're just going to fucking die. LIKE!!!!!!! IM FUCKING FERAL ABOUT IT! YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!!!!
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jackklinemybeloved · 2 years
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secret good spn that lives in my head episode that is told entirely in flashback and analyzes the winchester family dynamic and is called “cat’s cradle”
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
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Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her
On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol
You Could Do Better(With Me)
Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation
A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.
A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!
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Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.
Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.
And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.
Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.
He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-
It was just the little things initially.
One word replies, emoji spam-
Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.
Did he do something that hurt you?
Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.
Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-
It would always fall flat.
Were you still even trying?
He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.
It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-
You hadn't even replied to his morning message.
He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.
But now, worry he did.
Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.
He went through your files, your pictures-
Wait.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Who the fuck was that?
He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.
It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.
Not to mention the air the person had around them.
They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.
One Vox was all too familiar with.
That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.
And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.
He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.
Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.
He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.
Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!
Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.
Come the next day when he confronted you about it-
More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-
Making your computer practically unusable even-
Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.
You just simply forgot to say anything.
Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.
"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"
"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."
The tech overlord only stared at the screen.
Was that really all you saw him as?
A digital guardian?
Just... someone who treated you like a kid?
He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.
That was stupid.
Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?
It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.
"Vox?"
"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."
His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.
If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.
"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."
"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"
"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."
Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.
A walking red flag if you will.
He... should know.
Vox was at least aware of himself that much.
Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.
"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."
"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"
You simply brushed off his worry, typical.
That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.
He didn't even know where it came from, or why.
"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"
Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.
The day hadn't even started.
And Vox already wished it was over.
This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.
He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.
The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-
Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.
It's been a week.
Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.
But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.
It was pathetic.
And another.
Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.
He drank himself to sleep every night.
Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.
And another.
Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.
No one could get him to come out.
Not even for food or water.
If he needed anything he would get it himself.
It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.
Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.
He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.
The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.
He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.
God, he fucking missed you.
Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.
He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~
Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.
He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.
Everything was just kind of fuzzy.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...
It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.
Had you connected him to your TV again?
"Vox...? Are you there?"
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?
He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.
"Dude... you look like shit."
Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.
"Likewise dollface."
For me it happens all the time...
"Are you wasted??"
"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."
He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"
Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.
"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"
Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-
"Your personality- what??"
"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"
You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.
"But you just called him your copy."
"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."
And I need you now...
"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."
"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"
He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"
"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"
You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.
So that's why you'd been crying.
I just need you now...
"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."
You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.
Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.
"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."
Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...
Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.
There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.
He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.
Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~
"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"
You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.
Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"
"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."
Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.
He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.
For me it happens all the time...
"What is that?"
"Something I made for all your files months ago."
"What does it do?"
Vox took another swig from his bottle.
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...
"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."
He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.
Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.
Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.
Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-
The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.
It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.
He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.
And I need you now...
Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.
A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.
After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"
"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"
"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."
I just need you now...
Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.
"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"
"Whaaaaat? I would never."
Vox humored you well into the morning hours.
The both of you talking once again like old times.
Like nothing even happened.
Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.
The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.
At least you were okay again.
He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.
Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-
Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.
A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.
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barb-l · 3 months
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As a desperate lesbian who has been wanting a sapphic Wednesday portrayed for AAAAGES now, I still can't believe these things that the show gave me:
THE Wednesday Addams being shown jealous of a character that barely has any lines MULTIPLE times just because Enid mayyybe wants to choose said minor character as a roomie/bestie over her
BFFs Thing and Enid ganging up on Wednesday over her fashion sense and her pouting about it
Wednesday, who takes pride in her independence and relishes in isolation, admitting to have missed anyone is unthinkable. But she did! In her own way. Even if she was roundabout with her admittance, the fact that she got called out by both Thing and the goddamn villain shows how down bad she was during that fallout with Enid
"Thing said he missed you" and the way she visibly struggles against her nature to say "Skip the tape" with the tape symbolizing her breaking down her walls for Enid
something about Thornhill, who is played by an actress who also used to play Wednesday, telling this new Wednesday that she has to admit someday how much Enid has come to mean to her is just... ugh. Will never get over how much it adds so many layers to Wednesday's self-denial.
she held off all the insults in her bottomless vocabulary so she wouldn't completely offend Enid over the snood she made for her. She sugarcoated her words for Enid, which Wednesday NEVER does. In fact, it's the opposite of what she always does!
Enid VS Tyler bearing so much resemblance to that classic trope where the Love Interest saves the girl from the other Love Interest, even being a parallel to the fight between Gomez and Garret over Morticia
Enid lamented how she would never find a mate because she's not a real werewolf and would hence die alone, to which Wednesday remarks that it's a good thing in episode one. To emphasize Wednesday's apparent indifference to isolation, she is told that her nature as a raven means that she is fated to be alone like Enid feared for herself. In the finale, after Wednesday accepts that she doesn't want to be alone in the wake of her fallout with Enid, Enid finally wolfs out to save Wednesday. Enid made Wednesday realize that she doesn't actually like being alone, at least not when it meant she wouldn't have Enid by her side. In turn, Wednesday's life being threatened gave Enid the push to finally wolf out and, supposedly, now be given an opportunity to be eligible for a mate. I mean... I don't have high hopes, but the narrative is making it too easy to make it look like they were meant for each other
The heavy implication that Wednesday joined the Poe Cup because Bianca specifically said she wanted to make Enid cry over losing. The fact that she always deflected whenever Enid tried to confirm that Wednesday is doing it for her, but she never outright denied it!
"The mark you have left on me is indelible" and "I'll think of you" about Enid aksnnzzinsosnsj she gets sooooo sappy for herrrr
THE HUG. For people she's very very soft for, like her family, she only ever let THEM touch her. She's never show to start or reciprocate. SHE pulls Enid back into her. She holds Enid just as tightly, despite the injuries and despite Enid's pink coat. Enid toughens up for her but Wednesday is so vulnerable for her my god im so ill for them 💀
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hxlda-hxlda · 5 months
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“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 
famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:
“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 
Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 
The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  
‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 
He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 
No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 
“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 
They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 
“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”
Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.
His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.
However. But, but, and hear him out:
By fucking god, he was bored.
Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.
So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.
“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 
The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 
“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 
“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 
There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 
“Ask… who?” 
Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 
On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 
Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 
On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 
On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 
“What?” 
Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 
“And hello to you, too.” 
“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 
“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 
“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 
“You wound me, Moons.” 
That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 
“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 
“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 
“I will hang up right now.” 
A lie. He never hangs up first. 
Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 
“Who?” 
“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”
Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 
“Greg?”
“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 
“Ah, Greg.” 
Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 
“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.
“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 
“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 
When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 
“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 
He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 
“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 
“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 
Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 
“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 
A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 
“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 
Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 
“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 
“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 
“Now that would make the papers.” 
“Certainly… Is that all?” 
“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 
Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 
Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 
“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 
“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 
“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 
“That’s not–” 
“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 
The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 
And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 
pads !!!!!!!!!   
look what uve done  u menace 
MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕
Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  
Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.
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sometipsygnostalgic · 8 months
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Adventure Time new episodes
This is for "Destiny" and "Winter King". I am not making a big analysis, honestly I have no idea where the miniseries is heading, but here are a couple of points I want to make.
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So, to start us off, this is obviously Snake on a Nokia phone... the controls for this thing were absolute garbage but it did the job. Is the snake eating little bunnies????
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It's interesting that designer bags are the same in both worlds, but that makes sense because this is just another future version of a world Simon lived in.
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When I first saw Jay, I assumed he was Finn's baby brother from the Farmworld universe - wouldn't the baby brother be about the correct age??? - but he's actually Finn's son!
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Jay and Bonnie are a reference to the episode Puhoy! Their mother was most likely Roselinen. Our Finn had specific reasons for naming them Jay (Jake) and Bonnie (PB). Farmworld Finn named them that too but unless he knew a farmworld PB it's more of a reference than anything else.
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Also... against all reason, Farmworld Jake is still alive! Barely!
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Finn had a LOT OF KIDS and also his wife his dead. Damn, even in this world. Most of his kids have his or Rosalinen's hair colour but the boy on the right looks a lot like Hunter from the first episode.
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Take that as you will...
Like in the original S5 episodes there are farmworld versions of some characters like Choose Goose, Starchy, and Wildberry Princess. So there was probably farmworld versions of most of his friends. We already saw what happened to this version's Simon and Marcy, who both died brutally.
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The crown is in the giant crater because it was evaporated by the goddamn nuke. Incredible that any part of it survived, really.
The rest of this episode speaks for itself. It was a fun look at an alternate universe where Finn lived a very different life. His personality here is nothing like our Finn who is a lot more adventurous. Farmworld has taken its toll on our boy.
Onto Winter King...
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This penguin boy doesn't seem to be 100% ice. It's possible that his beak was stuck on like a snowman, but it's also possible this is a transformed version of Gunther.
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This Ice King's history is very similar to our Ice King's. Most changes were 100 years ago when he transferred the twisted madness to PB.
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Can someone explain to me why there is a naked chicken here???? I do not like this at all
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I checked out two designs that I thought this place might be referencing. It doesn't look like either but, eh.
Below is Candy Kingdom concept art from 2008.
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Below is Candy island from Flapjack!
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And below, ironically the most similar looking, is Candy Island from Bob's Burgers.
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Some interesting things about this alternate Simon...
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This young Marceline with the axe has implications for why this Simon might've turned "evil". Marceline either ran away from him after what he did to PB, or she died at some stage. He made an "Ice Marcy" to replace her.... Young and adorable, just she was when he was Simon. This seems to be his method for dealing with any problems.
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His science in this room was interesting... it reminded me of Princess Bubblegum's technology, or the stuff that Simon and Betty were able to make when combining science and magic in the land of Ooo. Honestly I don't feel that he'd have been successful in duplicating the crown, but he was immediately willing to try.
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The reason Simon doesn't remember Betty as his great love is because this was an important part of his madness. When he transferred his madness to PB, he also transferred his obsession with Betty.
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This is why Candy Queen is so obsessed with kidnapping Ice King and Simon, it's the exact reason why Ice King used to kidnap her!
Also, 10 out of 10 to Hynden Walch in this episode. I was convinced there was a different voice actress for Candy Queen, but upon checking the credits, it really is her. You can recognise her singing well too.
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This version of PB has a lot more mastery over her candy elemental magic. It's probably a result of being possessed by the Crown's madness for so a hundred years. You see her doing all sorts of crazy stuff as Candy Queen, though in that state her abilities are a lot more like Ice King's than they are like the insane PB from the Elements miniseries.
It's really funny that PB is like "I'm trying not to dwell on it" about the hundred years thing. AT is very casual like that. Though she's gonna be very sad when she realises Fionna and Cake ripped the faces off most of her candy people. Brutal scene.
And it's funny how she kissed Fionna. She just does that with all her knights. I wonder if there is a Finn in this universe? Ice Prince seemed to expect the Ice girls to save him...
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I found it sweet that Ice King really wanted to save someone else he saw as being possessed by madness. It was entirely possible that CQ was just "like that", but he was right on the money, and it shows how he contrasts to his alternate self, who is actively benefitting from this situation even if he gets regularly kidnapped. And it's not like Fionna is doing anything that Finn didn't do to Ice King!
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This scene was brutal. Funnily enough I watched Infinity Train book 3 with Kim last night, this reminds me of the moment THAT Simon-- Oh my God, does this always happen to characters named Simon?
Fionna removed the magic from the crown, so Simon aged rapidly, just like in the episode "Betty". Though this time it happened instantaneously rather than across 11 minutes.
I think this is the part where Fionna realises her rampage across the multiverse is genuinely hurting people.
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It was VERY CUTE watching Gary Prince (holy shit that name) show off his little Candy Kingdom. There's a lot of elements of PB there, and it parallels how ultimately the Candy Kingdom was PB's own version of the cake - she made all these characters and made little stories for them, which we know from the show was her way of dealing with the world.
What was REMARKABLY FUCKED UP was the shots to Fionna murdering possessed versions of these beloved characters. I mean... they're PROBABLY all still alive, but they are very fucked up now.
I also enjoy how the Lemoncarbs - Tree Trunks calls them that!! - are both here and alive, and superior to Gary lol. And I think Jinx Monsoon's voice acting here fits a lot better than in episode 4 where they tried to do a straight imitation of Lemongrab.
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I haven't said much about these two but you can see how they contrast - Marshall just Does things, while Gary procrastinates constantly. And Marshall's behaviour can seem reckless but Gary would've never taken that big step forward without his help. It's funny how Marshall can just call his mother to summon the Lemoncarbs in the middle of the night, and sweet how he'd do that to help Gary.
Then he listens to the autistic boy gush about his characters. Awww.
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This world here is obviously a joke about the elusive Adventure Time Babies show that Muto was terrified he'd be asked to make. Hell it's possible he pitched this show to CN once or twice. But Baby Looney Tunes and Tiny Titans are both famous spinoffs of this ilk, and Craig of the Creek got a spinoff about Craig's baby sister.
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Simon is still determined to become Ice King again but he wants to "do it right". I still think he's HORRIBLY MISGUIDED but he is starting to realise that, maybe, he is the best version of himself. He could've been a huge ding dong like Ice Prince.
Also Chan is going to be so sad if that's the only time we see Young Finn and Jake.
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skylarsblue · 1 year
Text
✦Slashers with a Male(“dominant”)S/O✦
✧AMAB!Reader, implied to be on the tall & broad side, also a lil southern cause I wrote this when I was tired and my southern accent took over. ✧Danny Johnson(He/They), Bubba Sawyer(He/She/They), Stu Macher(He/Him), Billy Loomis(He/Him), & Brahms Heelshire(He/Him)
NSFW Warning; some headcanons & implications
✦Danny Johnson ~ Ghostface✦
Danny is pansexual, I will defend that til the day I die. He doesn't give a single fuck, as long as he gets to fuck. He has a typical type when it comes to men but it's never concrete. That being said, his usual type is dudes who look like they could snap him in half. Because that's what they want.
He's usually the dominant type, but he's all for being a pillow princess if the dynamic is right. But! They have to really like you, they're not a cheap whore...most of the time. Point is, he has to be fascinated with you as much as he is attracted to you, which they are. Lucky you.
Let's assume you're a survivor for this. All the survivors are pretty unique, but you being new should help your case. But what will really get Danny interested is seeing you match his energy. Flirting with him when you evade an attack, blowing a kiss before you leave through the hatch, wolf-whistling if you catch them crouched behind something. It throws him off but he's a bit too flattered to stay annoyed. A surefire way to get them obsessed with you though is to struggle when he tries to mori you. And if you're successful, keeping your cool as you pin them back? You might feel something poking your thigh in record time.
Danny's the lovable kind of annoying. Which is confusing, given the fact he's a murderous psychopath and most likely a narcissist. Matching his flirty and energetic ADHD-ass nature will get their crush to develop further. It'll be unhealthy but you're not here for someone mentally stable.
Expect him to follow you everywhere, take a million pictures of you, he probably brags about you to other killers. They're honestly sick of him shoving pictures of you taking your shirt off, taken from a distance without your knowledge.
They're a cuddly bitch, and they're incredibly starved for human contact. You're gonna need to carry him. Complain all you want. He has mommy/daddy issues and he wants to be held like a baby, damnit.
𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐
Did I mention pillow princess? Yeah. When Danny's the dominant partner in a relationship, sexual or romantic, he puts in all the work without any complaint. He doesn't mind his partner just laying there and enjoying it. Makes him feel accomplished. But sometimes a bitch needs pampering. That's where you come in.
They're an extreme masochist as much as they are a sadist. You could put the hot metal of a lighter to his thigh and he'd probably cum in his pants. Pulling his hair is the easiest way to put him in his place if he's being a bit too mouthy. And they will beg you for marks if you don't put them there yourself. He wants to be sore after it all, damnit!
Panting, Ghostface let out a little laugh from behind their mask as he settled over you, knife raised. "Finally caught you, sweetheart. Tell you what, you're a good runner. But I won.~" He hummed raising a gloved hand to your hair in order to pull your head back, slice your neck. Danny inhaled and went to jab his knife into your jugular, only to let out a rather unmanly yelp when you suddenly jostled them. Able to completely flip around, tossing them off as if they weighed nothing. The muderer's camera landed in the grass and his hands were trapped above him by yours. He blinked in awe behind his mask, watching your chest rise and fall. "If there's one thing I hate 'bout y'all killers, it's the goddamn ego." You smiled as you spoke. For once, the talkative killer didn't reply. "What? Cat got your tongue, Casper? You were talkin' a bunch of smack befo-" You paused and glanced down. Danny swallowed as you let out a quiet chuckle. "Well I'll be damned...shoulda known you'd be into this kinda thing. Gross lil' fucker." They cleared their throat awkwardly as you tapped their mask. Danny inhaled and pulled back some of their dignity. "Should expect everything from me, big guy." He retorted. "Suppose I should, huh?...well, Ghostie. Rest of the team's down and I ain't got a clue where that hatch is. Might as well make the most of it, eh?" Perhaps a terrible idea, but exciting nonetheless.
✦Bubba Sawyer ~ Leatherface✦
SHE DESERVES A STRONG HUSBAND TO HELP HER AROUND THE HOUSE.
That aside, Bubba's not necessarily in the most accepting time or house. His brothers still poke fun at him sometimes when he dresses femininely, but have mostly grown to accept it. And I can't see Chop-Top as not being the type to mess around with a guy occasionally, so while they probably say ignorant stuff every now and then, I don't think it's those three that'd be the problem. It's the forties. Everyone else is gonna have something to say. Assure Bubba it's not a problem for you, she'll be over the moon.
They've tended to be into women and feminity in the past, but don't let that fool you, they are very bisexual. It especially helps if you're the sweet-talking type. Bubba is very easily thrown off by flirting.(Looking at you, Stretch) That and gentleness. Be a gentleman and you got Bubba swooning, especially if you're like that even after they've shown you they're cannibals.
We all know Bubba's not super dominant, at all. She's rather submissive and it's usually taken advantage of, since she struggles saying no. And they rarely get thank you's. Proper praise will get you a long, long way.
Pick. Bubba. Up. Pick her up. Do it. Pick them up and carry them around like a precious husband wife because that's what they are. They deserve it, their legs probably hurt from working all day!
Helping out around the house in general will score you major points. Especially if you aid in the process of getting food, that'll get you points with the rest of the family too. The more good word you have in Bubba's family, the more they'll be willing to keep you, because Bubba's love for you is honestly the only thing keeping you alive.
𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐
Praise. Praise praise praise praise, praise and compliments all over the place. Bubba has been nothing but criticized their entire life, if there's anything they need both in and out of sexual experiences, it's words of affirmation. They're even more submissive when underneath you. Because(southern accent activated), lawd almighty what a big strong man you are!~ Oh also, call them good girl/good boy/good baby.
Bubba's got no fuckin' clue what to do. They've only occasionally seen a dirty magazine or the clip of a porn movie that Chop-Top left on the old TV. You're gonna need to teach them basically everything. Just make sure you're gentle, because Bubba is sensitive and they need patience when it come to new things. God forbid they have an overstimulated meltdown during something that's supposed to bring you two closer together.
The old floorboards whined under your weight as you looked around the old house. "Pardon me, but uh...is anyone here?!" You called. "I don't mean to intrude, I was just wonderin' if I could borrow some water..." You voice trailed off at the sight of an...oddly furnished room. A bench made of bones, a chicken in a cage, feathers everywhere. More and more bones that were no doubt human. Alarm bells rang in your skull, amplified when there was a heavy slam of a metal door being opened, and quick footsteps. You took a defensive stance when you saw a large figure appear, dressed a button up, cowboy boots, old pants and a stained yellow apron. They held a hammer in thick hands and looked around, letting out animalistic like squeals and distressed grunts, until they spotted you. Though typically the fight type, you couldn't seem to do that or resort to flight, stuck in place. Their hands waved a bit and they ran at you full force. For a moment, your gaze fell on a cracked floorboard, one you'd avoided coming in. "Whoa hey now, wait-!" Too late, they stepped on it and it gave way, sending their leg through the floor. They whined and kicked, getting more distressed by the moment. "Hey!" They snapped their gaze up to you. It took a lot of willpower not to cringe at the sight of their mask. Instead approaching slowly with your hands open and in front of you. "Easy, alright? Relax. You're just gonna get yourself hurt thrashin' 'round like that." The stranger let out more noises of distress. "Relax, sweetheart, I ain't gonna hurt'cha." They stopped moving as soon as the pet name left your mouth. Confused, likely. They let out a little concerned whimper as you knelt down and tugged the floorboard next to the broken one. It pulled up and their leg was freed. "Look, see? Nothin' to worry 'bout. Just gotta be careful with these old floors. They give way real easy." They twisted the hammer around in their hands, standing rather stiff as you rose to your full height. Not much different from theirs. You exhaled and introduced yourself by your name. "I apologize for just bargin' in, door was open and I kinda thought this place wasn't occupied. I was just lookin' for a drink if that's alright?" You asked. They shifted their weight from side to side, shyly. Were you insane for considering this cute? Probably, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. They eventually nodded. "Yeah? Well alright then, thank ya, sweetheart. I really appreciate it." They squeaked at the pet name again and flapped their hands, pushing their face into the palms. You chuckled softly. Nearly killed only to charm the attacker, only in Texas.
✦Stu Macher ~ Ghostface✦
Stu. Is. So. Fucking. Gay. Extremely gay. “Oh but Tatu-“ SHHHH, gay. He’s a switch with a casually dominant personality, but he’s not really a dominant person. He’s just intense. He’s actually pretty gullible, especially when looking for praise or approval. Man likes to be included.
He's got a bit of a type for soft-spoken alternative dudes. Like, quiet & brooding. Basically the opposite of himself. You could say anything and if it's said in the right tone, he'll go with it. Why do you think Billy had such an easy time manipulating him?
If you're taller than him, which means over 6'4", bonus points. Major bonus points. Because that's rare and he's a whore.
Proving that you can handle yourself in dangerous situations, or that you can completely whoop ass? Stu finds that super attractive. Especially if you don't even instigate it. The whole "I don't start fights but I finish them" thing is extremely sexy to him.
He's gonna stalk you, just so you know, but he's not very good at it. Stu's a bit too loud and obvious. But he's definitely gonna try and impede your schedule so you two can constantly bump into each other, he thinks he's being subtle but he's not. It's endearing if you don't look too hard at it.
He's not necessarily the ride-or-die type with Billy in the picture, no matter how hot you are. HOWEVER, if you somehow get in on the Ghostface plot? And you're cool with it? Oh now he HAS to suck your dick, it's just a requirement. Especially if you help out directly. Depending on how you treat him and if you're manipulative enough, you might even replace Billy in Stu's mental throne. But you'd have to put in the work, don't expect it to be easy.
𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐
With Stu, you don't really need a dominant or submissive relationship. It kinda just...exists, and that can be very refreshing! He's really not picky on whether or not he's top or bottom, he just likes feeling good. That being said, he has an affinity for oral. Giving or receiving. And he's unfairly good at it.
Pillow. Talk. Do it, all the time. If you want Stu to be your mushy-brained-bitch, use pillow talk. Saying the right things in a soft, breathy tone could be enough to make him jizz in his pants. Just expect him to be just as vulgar in return, and he has no shame, he'll do it in public. Match his energy.
Music flowed from a stereo in the kitchen, mixing with the voices of high school seniors and the clinking of alcohol bottles. Stu's house was known for great parties, especially around Halloween. He enjoyed the atmosphere of social gatherings and he made for a great, unconventional host. Ensuring everyone was as drunk as they wanted and everyone felt comfortable to let loose. He jumped out from behind a corner with a mask on, it smelt of booze and weed and he'd simply found it resting on his dining room table. Two girls, both dressed as angels, screamed. One smacked him in the chest after he took off the mask whilst laughing. Stu sipped some beer from a red solo cup as he meandered through his entryway. "Stu!" A junior girl that he sometimes asked to do his homework skipped up to him, smiling as she held a new model cellphone in her hand. "My cousin just called me cause he's new in town, can I invite him over? He's the same age as you and-" She squeaked when Stu hugged her into his side casually. "Shhhshhh your explanations, sweetheart! Call'em! But he better be cool!" He insisted. She grinned and quickly dialed back her cousin as Stu chugged back the rest of his alcohol.
It was hard hearing the heavy knock on the door about thirty minutes later, but Stu prided himself on how good his hearing was, despite all the music he tended to blast. He didn't get to the door before the same girl ran up with a smile. What was her name again? Stella? "That's probably him!" She exclaimed excitedly as Stu swung the front door open. It caught him off guard that he had to look up instead of down. His mouth grew dry as he was met face-to-face with a motorcycle helmet. "Oh, sorry." The stranger's voice was muffled and their gloved hands rose to hoist the helmet off, they quickly fixed their hair. "Thanks for the invite, I'm guessin' you're Stu?"
"The one and only! Nice to meet'cha cowboy. Got any booze?" Stu was excellent at quick recovery. You dug into your pocket for a moment and pulled out a small shot-bottle of vodka. "'Specially for the host." You said, Stu grinned and took it, stepping aside and dramatically motioning for you to enter. Stella began rambling off to you about how happy she was you were in town whilst Stu just...stared. It was noticeable at this point, which made you look over. "You want a picture, big guy?" Stu felt horniness sucker punch him in the ribs. "Nah, I'm good with staring!" He grinned. He swallowed as you snickered. "Alrighty then, feel free." Stu would be staring at you a lot. A whole lot.
✦Billy Loomis ~ Ghostface✦
Did someone say INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA?? It's so obvious. Now, I think Billy is bisexual, but he's hella hesitant to admit he's into dudes. For the sake of his dad, the idea of a dude having more power than him, and the time period? It's not easy for him to just be cool with it when it comes to himself.
That being said, Billy's more of a bottom than he'd like to admit. And it comes out with dudes that are bigger than him, and it's even worse if they're not easy to manipulate. Which you're not. That pisses him off so much.
Rule of thumb with a Ghostface? Energy matching. Be just as smooth-voiced and eerily calm and he's gonna have heart palpitations. It pisses him off so bad that he can't affect you.
To be completely honest, he's gonna try and stab you because he's an angsty teenage boy who can't handle his feelings so it's easier to get rid of the cause. Of course, it's not that easy. You don't make it easy, and that also makes him more into you. He likes the adrenaline of a struggle.
What'll really get him is if you somehow get him vulnerable, which will take a blue-moon and 1/10,000 type of luck odds. But not take advantage of it. Don't pity him and don't poke at him, just...being there. Even trying to lighten the mood, that kind of thing gets any angry boy with mommy issues to get at least a lil soft.
If you know he's Ghostface and ask to help, especially if he just tried to kill you? Bro how dare you...offer something so sexy, of course he's gonna say yes. But don't ask to be a Ghostface. He's comfortable with being in control of that aspect. But you can help with things like the gameplay or the information on victims, or being an alibi. If you can be an alibi put on the spot? Mm, so sexy.
𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐
Look, I know Billy probably isn't a bottom at all, but this is fiction and I can do whatever I want. And I say Billy Loomis is a reluctant pillow princess. Reluctant because of internalized homophobia and a fear of being vulnerable, but we're gonna lie to ourselves and say that you somehow managed to get past that.
You're gonna need to have the patience of a saint. No hard doms here, ironically. He likes a power struggle, but what really gets him is you being in control and calm. Like you don't have to try. Oddly enough that kind of thing is comforting. It feels like he's relinquishing control to someone who knows what they're doing, rather than someone flying blind.
Billy chucked the burner phone as hard as he could into the woods surrounding Stu's house before bending down and ensuring his knife was properly strapped down. Hidden under his jeans and boots. The music from inside was headache-inducing. Stu was far more sociable than Billy, he had never been much of a party person, aside from the booze. He was more of a homebody.
He walked around the house and went over his alibi story a few more times as he hopped onto the porch, ringing the doorbell. It swung open to Stu, who was very clearly buzzed, if not just straight drunk. "Billy! Baby, my man, c'mere. I gotta introduce you to this dude." Billy didn't get a chance to speak as Stu pulled him inside, rambling on. The teen sighed and rolled his eyes. "Aight, Bill, this is the new guy that's coming to our school next week." Stu motioned to you. Significantly taller than him and probably twice as broad, holding an air of natural intimidation and a stern expression. But it softened when you turned.
"Oh, you're Billy? Stu kept talkin' bout you. Nice to meet you." You held out a large gloved hand, mentioning your name. Billy held up his fist instead, which you quickly adjusted to make it a fist bump. "Bill, this dude is so cool. He's got like a ton of motorcycles and a fuck ton of knives-" Stu slurred. "I have two motorcycles, one of which isn't even technically mine. And I have a collection of pocket knives, he's exaggerating." You smiled. "Oh! You two wait here, I'm gonna get you both some booze." You didn't have a chance to deny the offer before Stu rushed off.
Billy stood with his arms crossed, tongue tucked into his cheek. "Introvert?" You asked. "Hm? Oh uh, yeah, more or less." He replied, to which you nodded. "Yeah, I'm not much for parties either. I'm just here for my cousin. Definitely wasn't my plan for tonight." Billy blew some of his hair out of his face, leaning on a wall. "Then what was your plan?" "Watching scary movies." You replied, and maybe it wasn't intentional, but you noticed how he perked up. "Yeah? You a big horror fan?" He inquired. You nodded with a growing smile. "Oh yeah, especially the gory ones. They're the most fun. Do you like scary movies?" You asked. Billy nodded. "Mhm." "What's your favorite scary movie?" He felt a shiver run down his spine as you tilted your head, probably unaware of just how significant the word choice was. Billy smiled and rested the back of his head against the wall. For a moment, slightly lowering his guard as he grinned slyly. "Guess."
✦Brahms Heelshire ~ The Boy✦
How the fuck did you manage to make that happen? We have no idea. Assuming you're a nanny, that is. There's always a chance you work for the Heelshire's for a different reason. (my boy @disc0dild0s has a fic like this on Wattpad, y'all should look at it)
But for my personal wants, we're gonna say you're the nanny, and you somehow meandered your way into a position. Maybe the Heelshire's were just extremely desperate for anyone at that point that they basically told Brahms to deal with it. He has no choice, really. He's gonna be the biggest brat because you're not the pretty woman he asked his parents for.
Yet, seeing how well you handle the job, all the patience you have and the kind demeanor you carry, it intrigues him. Until eventually he's attached. He doesn't know what exactly to do with the emotions, because it feels the same way as it did back when he had female nannies, but...you're a man. Isn't that weird? You can thank his old ass parents for that.
When he reveals himself, it's probably an accident. He's worried you'll run away of course, but part of him is also worried you'll whoop his ass. You're bigger than him and he's seen you hoist shit up no problem when cleaning the mansion. Which is very sexy as much as it is intimidating.
But there goes your gentle nature again, despite how you look. You don't run away even if you probably should, and you don't whoop his ass. Brahms is so hooked after that.
He's not going to make it easy for you. He's got it built in his head that he's the man of the house, that's what his father was trying to turn him into after all. But he is not, you are. You may follow his rules but you also keep him in line, you do all the work, and you could probably snap him in half. He can't just outright admit he enjoys it but he does. Especially when he's feeling sensitive and vulnerable. It's comforting to be carried around by a big strong man, probably more than it should be.
𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐
B O T T O M . Holy shit he's a fuckin' bottom. And a pillow princess, for sure. He's there to feel good, what do you mean you want him to do some of the work?
Brahms is horny as hell but he's not really sure what to do. Teaching him what to do as a woman is difficult, but at least he's read some books to have a very hazy idea. Two men? There's like...two books in that library within it that he probably isn't aware are there. But he's willing to learn, as long as it feels good.
"Brahms? Brahms! Come on, Brahms, I'm not mad, you can come out! I wasn't trying to make fun of you!" You called. The only response you got was the echo of your own voice bouncing back from the walls. You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. It really was a misunderstanding. It had been a month and a half since Brahms had been caught outside the walls. It had been quite the experience. Freaky, but, the reality of his situation was heartwrenching, and his pleading for you not to leave really solidified it. It didn't feel right to leave. So you stayed, now properly caring for a grown man instead of a doll.
He was a man, even if he had these slips in mentality where he acted like a kid. But being an adult with barely any contact, affectionate or otherwise, could lead to some issues. One of which caused Brahms to grow extremely embarrassed recently, which was why he'd retreated into the walls. He'd gotten a pretty obvious boner from just a hug, something you had noticed and lightly teased him for. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but it backfired. You'd given him some time, hoping it would settle down and you could talk to him properly. Unfortunately, an hour had passed and he still wasn't out. Now dinner was nearly done and you didn't want him skipping a meal.
Though the dust would've made your allergies hell, you approached a mirror in one of the sitting rooms, setting it up on a wall before slipping through the cutout behind it. You'd never properly gone into the walls, but you'd heard and seen Brahms use the pathways. You rubbed your nose as you took an inhale, immediately burning from all the dust. "No wonder he coughs all the time...poor baby." You muttered as you began walking. It was confusing and you were far more lost than you'd anticipated, but eventually, you saw the glimpse of a bedside lamp.
You were quiet as you approached. Brahms' inner bedroom was...well, sad. Given he felt the need to live all hidden in the walls on an old bed without support, cobwebs everywhere. You could only imagine how bad his lungs would be if he'd been left in here any longer than he had. The man laid on the mattress in the corner, facing the wall, hugging something you could recognize. A sweater that had gone missing from your luggage a while ago. You sighed as you stood, crossing your arms. "Brahms." Your voice made him harshly flinch, scrambling to sit up and push himself more into the corner.
He let out a sad noise and shrank back, making you frown more. "Hey, hey, don't do that. I'm not here to chastise you." You said softly, walking closer. You tried not to think of the cleanliness of his bed as you sat down, keeping some distance so he didn't feel pressured. "Brahms, sweetheart, can you look at me please?" He did as asked, probably because of the pet name. "I'm not upset or anything, you know that, right? I was just trying to make light of it. I wasn't trying to embarrass you." You explained as Brahms picked at a string in the sweater.
"'s embarassing." He muttered. His voice teetered between states, but was overall soft and muffled. "I know, and I'm sorry for teasing you. But it's okay, it's not like you can help it." You reassured. "But, but...but you're a man..." Brahms replied. Oh. You sighed and glanced at the wall, thinking. "Yes, but, that doesn't have to mean anything. I'm sure you've been told that's weird but it's really not. I like men." You shrugged, a bit caught off guard by how shocked Brahms seemed. "Really?" "I- pfft, yeah? Do you think I go around flirting with just every guy friend I have? No." You smiled. Brahms' face grew warm and red under his mask. "I...I didn't know, I wasn't really sure."
"Well yes, I was flirting with you. You can take that how you will. And if something like that happens again, we can deal with it or we can not. But you don't have to run from me, okay?" You whispered, holding out a hand for him to take. He hesitated but did so, even though he didn't move closer either. "Regardless of the situation, you don't need to hide. I don't want you to feel that way with me. Okay?" Brahms swallowed and messed with a ring you wore. He sighed and nodded shyly. His first instinct was always to hide, even if it always made him feel worse after doing it. "Good boy, now come on, it's dinner time and I don't want it getting cold." You stood up and he did the same, messing with the sweater. "You can keep that if you want." Brahms glanced at the fabric. It had some cobwebs on it and a few flyaway strings from him picking at it, but he took off his cardigan and put it over his head. You chuckled and took the opportunity to kiss his temple, putting him more at ease. "We can talk more about it later. Let's get you some food first. Now, help me get out of here because I nearly got lost at least four times." Brahms snickered quietly and walked ahead of you.
2K notes · View notes
kaonarvna · 6 months
Text
Every now and again, I remember that my disability (EDS) isn't invisible, actually. People are just uncomfortable when they can see it. People don't want to see it. People like to ignore it. Other people just stare at it, and don't even look at me. All they see is a pile of bones and fascia and something to pity.
I've worn a shoulder brace the past week, because it subluxed horribly a week or so ago. Still healing. Visible.
I always have compression sleeves on my arms, full coverage. Bicep to wrist. Visible.
I have soft braces and compression kit for every joint imaginable. Visible.
I'm covered in KT tape. I've worn it on my goddamn face after a jaw sublux, for that little extra support and proprioception help. Tape. On the face. Very visible.
The people I've worked with for years are used to it by now, the good ones, at least. They don't remark when I take a minute to stretch. They know I'll say something if I'm not okay. They know I'm in a constant state of variable dysfunction. They've seen enough, they're used to it.
But then there's people who aren't used to it. People who see me stretch on the ground, watch in discomfort, then they ask someone else if I'm okay. I can hear them quietly mutter it to other staff. I hear them go, "oh, he does that". I can see their discomfort with me (just existing as I need to exist). I can see the discomfort in these new people who aren't accustomed to bodies with slightly different needs, and it's a visceral reminder of being "other". I wonder, how terrible and scary and different I must be, for them to not even have the fortitude to ask me themselves.
And then there are the new people who see it and ask too many questions. The ones who go "but you're so young!" as though my connective tissue has a concept of social expectations for people under (arbitrary age). They go "but you look great!" as though I'm not covered in bruises and held together by tape (nevermind the implication that the disabled must look "bad"). They go "but you never call in!" as though I'm not often two seconds away from doing so, before the fear of losing my job sets in.
...and these are the ones who seem to wish not to see it the most. The ones who ask questions like I should be on display, and as soon as the conversation ends, so does my disability. They'll ask the same questions the next time, and the next time, and the next. It always ends with statements of pity, or something pity-adjacent. If I'm "lucky", they might even make an inappropriate comment about how I shouldn't be working, or sex must be "interesting", or act like I'm some eldritch horror that shouldn't exist.
And I'm reminded of the training I was once made to sit though. A ninety minute training, where you sit and watch the PowerPoint for ninety minutes in a too-small plastic chair, while someone reads the PowerPoint. The presenter started with a cute little "haha I know it's long, feel free to get up and walk around, or stretch".
I did.
I got up, walked myself to the side well out of the way of the tight chair lines, and laid down to stretch (a good spinal twist, loosen things up).
And she stopped the presentation.
She asked if there were any first-aiders present.
She was going to keep going on and on, until I heard someone say, "oh, he's fine, he does that." and a few "that's just (name), he does that". She started apologising profusely, waffling about how she thought there must have been a medical emergency, how people don't usually get up. She seemed baffled by the mere concept that someone would actually need to get up, and couldn't sit for ages. Her statement was entirely performative and insincere.
Today, after the day was effectively done, I laid down on the clean, carpeted floor in my classroom to just...be horizontal for a moment. Find some way, any way, to get my lower back to move and function and not feel like it was being clawed apart from the inside. Relieve myself a little, so I could finish the day without abject misery. And this very-new member of staff sat on the other side of the room, presumably watching me. When I got up, she asked very quietly, "Is something wrong with you?" and all I had the energy to say was "I'm fine". I'm tired of explaining my body. I'm tired of explaining my needs. I'm tired of justifying taking care of myself.
Someone recently told me "You're very brave. I think I'd rather die than live like you."
I didn't respond. I didn't have the energy to break down that she'd effectively told me I should die. I didn't have the energy to tell her that it's not bravery to live "like this".
It's my only option.
I know nothing else.
And I'm just tired. And hurting.
I'm grateful for the few good ones, the ones that are used to it. The people who have stopped asking me if I'm okay when I stretch, or need a little break, or get out the tape and scissors.
They know I'm not okay. That's why I'm on the ground. That's why I'm checking my range of motion, or feeling a joint, or holding pressure on a digit that's come undone. I'm not okay, and I'm trying not to get even worse.
I'm not okay, actually. I'm never okay, and that's fine. I'll never be your version of "okay", and that's fine. I've no choice. Thank you for knowing that I'm not okay, but that that's normal, and that if something was seriously, horribly wrong, I'd do something. Thank you, for just going about your business and talking to me as normal when I'm taking care of myself, instead of sprinkling eggshells on the ground for your own personal crunching.
I'm just tired. I'm visibly disabled if you look for ten goddamn seconds. I'm a person if you look for twenty. I'm a fetish if you just keep staring and staring and asking about my body like you're entitled to my flesh. I just want to sleep for more than two hours without my body waking itself up to remind me it hurts. I'm so tired.
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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Pt5 to the Wingman Wayne AU!! | AO3 link
It doesn't take long before hanging out with Steve another time turns into hanging out multiple times a week. Being friends with him turns out to be something surprisingly easy. The many differences between them don't make it awkward or difficult to bond – on the contrary, they make for endless conversations and a never-ending stream of fun new discoveries, because it soon becomes clear that Eddie is just as fascinating to Steve as Steve is to Eddie. It soon feels like they've already known each other for years, time flies whenever they are together, and Eddie feels like Steve is the first person – except for Wayne, of course – with whom he can be completely himself. There's an easy companionship between the two of them, and it doesn't take long before Eddie has to admit to himself that he gravely misjudged the guy, prejudiced as he was by his preppy appearance and his love for sports. Steve is nothing like the closeted Chads Eddie has crossed paths with over the last few years: he's comfortable with his sexuality, comfortable in his body, comfortable walking around town in the company of Eddie “the freak” Munson... He's actually an amazing friend in every sense of the word.
Which is why it is a problem that one night, Eddie fails to fall asleep because his mind keeps wandering to Steve's brown eyes, the chest hair peeking out of his stupid polo shirt, the shape of his fingers... And his first thought when he wakes up in the morning is about the moles on Steve's cheek, and – worst of all – those goddamn pink lips.
'What the fuck?' he mumbles to himself as he gets out of bed. He hasn't had his coffee yet, his stupid brain should know that it's forbidden to have any confusing thoughts this early in the morning.
As if all of that isn't concerning enough yet, Wayne is sitting at the table and gives him some creepy all-knowing grin when Eddie walks into the kitchen, like the fucking psychic he is when it comes to his nephew.
'What?' Eddie growls at him.
'Nothin',' says Wayne, slightly too innocent. 'Made you coffee.'
'Shouldn't you be asleep?' Eddie asks as he flops down into the creaky old chair opposite of Wayne.
'Swapped shifts with Jimmy for the week,' Wayne tells him. He rolls his eyes as he adds, 'Had a big fight with his wife again.'
Eddie knows much more than he wants to about Wayne's colleague from the dayshift: every once in a while, Jimmy will ask Wayne to swap their schedules as a tactic to avoid his wife. In spite of the sad implications that gives about the man's marriage, Eddie selfishly hopes Jimmy will keep having many more fights with his wife, because that means he gets to see more of his uncle.
'Stupid straight people,' Eddie comments under his breath as he takes a sip of his coffee; it tastes perfect, the way only Wayne can make it. 'Does that mean you'll be making me coffee for the whole week?' He stretches out his arm while balancing on the two rear legs of his chair to reach for the box of Honeycombs on the kitchen counter behind him.
Wayne snickers. 'Wouldn't get used to it, boy,' he says.
Eddie stuffs a fistful of dry Honeycombs into his mouth. 'Maybe you could blackmail Jimmy into swapping shifts forever,' he says, his words muffled by the food in his mouth.
Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. 'Maybe I should. I'd finally get to teach you some proper breakfast manners like you aren't a grown-ass man.' He lights up a cigarette and Eddie motions for him to give him the pack, so he can follow his example.
'So...' says Wayne, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 'You gonna tell me who it is?'
'Who what is?' Eddie asks, blankly.
Wayne only shrugs.
'How do you even know?!'
'It's written all over your face, boy.'
'It doesn't matter because it's stupid anyway.'
'Is it Steve?'
Eddie shoots him a deadly glare. 'Jesus, this is getting unfair!' he exclaims. 'Can't a guy just have his secrets in peace in this house?!'
But Wayne only snickers at his little outburst.
'Steve's a good guy, Ed,' he says. 'I know you're probably not exactly waitin' for your old uncle's approval, but if you ask me, he's much better than any of those guys you used to mess around with. Those um... Chads.'
Eddie had always respected the wishes of the guys he was seeing, tried to be patient, tried to be understanding of their processes... So he'd always call them Chad when he talked about them with Wayne. Wayne would always get those worried looks on his face whenever Eddie was talking about one of the Chads, so after Chad the Fourth, Eddie had decided to stop dating once and for all. That hadn't made Wayne's worried looks disappear, though – it had made him come home with that stupid piece of paper with Steve's number on it. The stupid piece of paper that is now taped to the wall next to the phone, gross as it is, because that's how often Eddie has been using it these days.
'I know he's better than the Chads,' he finally admits with a sigh. 'But I totally friendzoned him right from the start, man. Maybe he was actually interested, but I kept turning him down in the  bluntest possible ways, so now he certainly doesn't see me that way anymore – I made absolutely sure of that all by myself!'
Wayne lets out an understanding hum, then takes the last drag of his cigarette before carefully pressing it out in the ashtray.
'Can't you just... talk to him?'
Eddie groans in frustration. Why does Wayne always have to make everything sound way too simple?
Pt6
I’m kinda starting to feel like a broken record here but thanks everyone for all your heartwarming comments and tags, I can’t even explain how happy all those responses are making me <3
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Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC IV
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Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping,
I II III V
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With you and Homelander demolishing the top floor of Vought Tower with your fighting, the rest of the floors are forced to evacuate.
You're younger and smaller than Homelander. Worse was your inexperience with fighting against another supe of his pedigree.
I imagine that somehow you manage to escape and get away but it's only a matter of time before Homelander sniffs you out. But both of you are battered from the fight, each tired.
He doesn't try to fight you. instead he sits down next to you, heaving out a sigh. You're scared, you won't lie. At any moment HL could just turn to you and grab you.
"I'm just. . . terrified to lose you again." HL finally admits. You've heard how he was raised. That isolating loneliness along with the terrible trials they put him through must have really fucked him up. You couldn't even fathom what he'd went through.
That was still no excuse for him kidnapping you. He understood what he had down in keeping you against your will. How else would he be sure he'd ever see you again?
There was obvious desperation in his voice, a tremor in his blue eyes as he has a death grip on your hand. He was just a child. An overgrown, murderous child that had never experienced genuine love and affection.
Don't get me wrong, you are fucking furious. You were kept against your will. You felt like his goddamn canary in a gilded cage. You'd never felt so powerless in your entire life. You hated that feeling. Was that how civilians felt around you?
All that time left alone in his apartment gave you a lot to think about. You'd rolled the situation over and over in your head. Analyzing all that you knew and all that you were still learning.
Both of you spend hours there, just talking. More than you had during your entire captivity. It was difficult for Homelander to be honest about his feelings. He told you all the fucked up shit he'd done. You tell him your own fears and he really listens.
By no means though have you forgiven him. You point that out but say "I suppose the only way you can ever get my forgiveness is if you prove to me that you're truly sorry."
You knew, in his twisted little head, that he loved you. More than anyone has. Maybe a little too much with the way he looked at you sometimes or certain things that would slip from his mouth every now and then.
If you wanted him to prove himself to you, that meant that you were willing to see him again.
You set boundaries, though a few of them you noticed him grimace at. If he wanted you in his life, willingly, he had to abide by them.
You were not going to be anyone's prisoner ever again. No matter how nicely they treated you
He wasn't going to like not having you easily accessible. This was how healthy and normal relationships worked. If there was any chance of getting you to trust him again, he'd have to go along with it.
At least it would give him the opportunity to see you and perhaps have you warmed up to him once more.
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carigm · 17 days
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ABOUT THE NEW PICTURES!
Some new pics from set got released today, and although it’s nothing too exciting, I think it’s worth pointing some things out.
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Why so many goddamn bikes? Is everyone in Hawkins riding bikes? 😭 We don’t even have this many main characters lol
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I’ve already seen people making jokes about this and the “3 waterfalls”, but in case people believe an ai lip reading in which Mike supposedly utters the words “you gotta improve your motivation”, according to that lip reading they were talking about leaving Hawkins (the local village lol) and finding a place with 3 waterfalls. As you can see, this is a map of Hawkins. So it doesn’t even fit the Mlvn ai lip reading nonsense.
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And last we have this pic of little Mike. This is the most interesting thing they shared imo. This picture we’ve already seen in the show before, it was on the Wheelers’ picture mantle in S1, if I’m not mistaken.
Here they’ve placed it on top of two vinyl records. Was it arranged like this just for the picture? If so, what are the implications or what are they trying to hint at?
1. Music will be important for Mike next season because he will be targeted by Vecna.
2. The two records are Treasure Island and Swiss Family Robinson. Originally, these are novels. Both of them feature characters ending up in deserted islands, and they both also feature a character that ends up going back to civilization/society at the end of the journey. Jim in Treasure Island, and Ernest in Swiss Family Robinson.
Here’s a description of both those characters.
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They do kinda sound like Mike don’t they? It’s worth noting that Ernest is the second child and he has an older brother (sibling) who’s an excellent shot. I mean…Ernest also abandons/leaves his family at the end of the story.
3. The Swiss Family Robinson inclusion could also be hinting at something else, and imo this is the most likely thing. A couple of months ago, someone leaked that the Wheelers’ house gets completely overtaken by the UD, and the Wheelers’ basically become homeless (I think they end up at the farm). This leaker mentioned the scene was an action packed scene that also featured some members of the party being there, and that it was also Karen’s first real encounter with the UD. Out of all the leaks we’ve gotten, I always believed this person because from little tidbits we’ve seen their leaks are the only ones that seem to match up. Now what is the main plot of the Swiss Family?
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A family being shipwrecked and basically becoming homeless.
If I had to put my money on these clues meaning anything, I would say this is the most likely.
Although perhaps we’re looking too much into it and the picture is a hint to us getting a younger Mike flashback? After all, those two records were probably from when he was a kid.
So many possibilities.
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nervousd · 1 year
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Side Story— Decisions
→ Infatuation | m.list
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#SYNOPSIS— the avatar program is getting their funds cut by Quaritch influencing Parker. You’re the saving grace they need
#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, yandere, manipulative/ manipulation, unhealthy obsession, unhealthy fixation, implications of dubcon, non-consensual touching, dark quaritch, abuse of power, dubcon, smut, overstimulation, cunnilingus, panty sniffing(?) sniffing kink(?) older man/younger woman, age gap
#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch
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❝ You see— you see, I mean they’re just pissing on us without even the courtesy of informing us sooner— I’m going to Selfridge ❞ Grace’s outburst we’re to be expected. Once again, Selfridge had cut the resources and money flowing into the avatar program. He claimed spending too many resources on a program that’s failing is a waste of money. Rather— they’ll be using those resources on their military seeing as how the savages have gotten hostile.
But it was all a bunch of nonsense— Quaritch was the one doing this. He was manipulating Selfridge into cutting the funds for the program, he demanded that his men needed more weapons. How the avatar program wasn’t helping them at all— it was just a puppeteer show meant for laughs. Selfridge being the moron he is agreed to Quaritch demands.
Not a second later, Grace returned with cheeks bright red. She fumed, ❝ The nerve of him! How could he do this us?! ❞ She went off to rant about his corporate butt claiming his idiocy will be the ruin for us. ❞ It’s all because of Quaritch sticking his nose into my program— ❞ Grace huffed, digging the sides of her lab coat looking for her pack of cigarettes. ❝ Where are my cigarettes? Where are my goddamn cigarettes? ❞ You hurried to her, handing her a cigarette. She blew the cloud of smoke, relief filling her body. You coughed, wincing at the smell ❝ Sorry kid ❞
After years of working for her, you politely replied with a smile, knowing what to expect from her antics. Max coughed into his hands, avoiding eye contact with Grace, ❝ Well maybe we can work something out with the Colonel? ❞ Grace scoffed, ❝ He’s a happy trigger moron! What can we do to persuade him!?Nothing—! ❞ Her words trailed off as they landed on you.
It was only till later that you caught the meaning of her gaze. Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, it was no secret to anyone that the Colonel had his eye on you. ❝Grace no— we can’t do that to her ❞ Max tried reasoning with her, standing up for your sake. Grace nodded, shaking her head ❝Right— I’m sorry kid. I won’t— ❞ her words trailed off as she took another drag from her cigarette. ❝ What about her? What can she do? ❞ The stillness in the atmosphere was broken by the curiosity laced in Jakes voice. ❝ Right I forgot you’re new here so you wouldn’t know. The Head of Security has a thing for our secretary ❞
Jake stayed quiet,processing the new information. He hesitated, a blank emotionless expression crossed over his face the relaxation of an idea presenting itself to him ❝ If she can— can you? Would you be willing to do it? Please— we can’t have them cutting our budget ❞ Grace voice bellowed ❝Jake! You can’t ask her to do such a thing! ❞ Jake let out a scoff, ❝ It’s our only chance doc, if she can persuade the Colonel he can convince Selfridge to give us back our funding. It’s our only shot! ❞ They spat out arguments between each other, shouting and screaming as they bickered back and forth.
A terrible weight laid on your shoulders, would you be willing to do this? For them? Would you be willing to do this to to yourself? To be at his mercy? You dreaded doing such a thing but for them? Anything for them— ❝ I’ll do it ❞ you replied, voice breaking as you spoke. Their endless quarreling stopped, they looked at you in disbelief. You covered your face with shaking hands, looking up at all three of them. You flashed them a half-smile ❝I’ll convince Quaritch to put in a word to Selfridge for us ❞ Without waiting for any other remarks you turned on your heel.
Several long strides brought you to his office, you let out a shaky breath. Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you exhaled; releasing some of the tension that settled on your shoulders. You knocked on the door, patiently waiting for the confirmation to walk in. A muffled sound from behind the door was enough clearance for you. The unmistakable creaking of the hinges of his door was loud enough to announce your presence.
There Quaritch was scribbling on documents, pausing his actions his head shifted to your direction. He flashed you a grin, a sudden sickening sensation coursed throughout your body. ❝ Well looky here— ❞ his voice drawled out, grutal and raspy. His eyes remained fixated on you, taking in the sight like a sponge soaking up water. He himself won’t admit it— but he was pleasantly thrilled to have you coming to him. His chuckle was light and laced with a hum of amusement ❝ I would done this much sooner if I had known that threatening the puppeteer program would lead you to come to me— you surely took your time. Not that I’m complaining ❞
Several long strides brought him to you. ❝ I needed a distraction and with you coming to me with those glassy eyes of yours— well it sure gives me something to think about ❞ His hand came up to caress your cheek, brushing gently against the corner of your eye wiping a stray tear. Your breath hitched, wide eyes gazing up at him. The gears in your head clicked together, was this all planned out? Did he know you would come to him? Your lip trembled, throat clogging up as you tried to find the words to say ❝ Convince Selfridge to bring back the funding ❞ Quaritch quirked up his eyebrows, ❝ I can do that but what’s in it for me?❞
You sniffled quietly, a solemn tear cascading down your cheek. With shaky limbs you clutched onto his hand, pressing your face against it ❝ Whatever you want, I’m sure I can satisfy it❞ With the way the Colonel's lips curled up and his eyes crinkled in delight, it was clear that he understood the meaning in your words. He’s been waiting to hear those words from you since forever— nothing but a dream come true. His chuckle was light and laced with a hum of amusement, ❝ I have a few things in mind ❞
His fingers tangled in your hair, giving a harsh tug at your roots. You cried out in pain ❝ Don’t make me wait ❞ his lips brushed against yours. Your hands shook as you cradled his jaw in your hands, you leaned forward pressing your lips against his. He kissed back with fever, insatiable and unable to get enough. A nip on your lip was enough to grant a gasp from you. He took the opportunity, slipping his tongue inside. You whined against him, hands pushing against his chest. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as he deepened the kiss.
You squirmed in his hold, having lost the rhythm to the kiss. His greedy hands slid along your hip, tracing the curve as he groped your skin. Even as you pulled back from his kiss the hand clasped behind your neck brought you back to him. ❝ no more❞ you whispered breathlessly against his lips. He ignored your pleas, his mouth forming a scowl. He was clearly displeased with your hesitance towards him. You came to him, pleading— begging. And with that sweet voice of yours? Whimpering and whining— Quaritch sighed, kisses coming out sloppy and frantic than the previous kisses.
Batting your eyelashes with watered eyes, offering yourself to him. So who was he to refuse? He’ll take everything you have to offer and more. He won’t have you backing off from this proposition. He can’t— he won’t. His hold on you tightens, arms strong in their hold. The thought alone of letting you leave his embrace had his mind in shambles. You were finally in his grasp, where he wanted you. He whispered your name between kisses, trailing them down your neck. You whined, turning your head away from him, whimpering as you pushed against his chest having had enough of his frantic kissing.
He pressed himself against your body, snapping his hips upwards to get any sort of fiction. His chest rumbled as he mouthed your neck leaving trials of wet kisses. He dove back to yours lips, ravishing you with kiss after kiss; sneaking his tongue inside. His tongue wrapped around yours, groaning in delight to feel you kissing him back with the same fever. He pulled back from the kiss, tongue swiping over his lips. He showed his delight in an obvious way, fingers ghosting over your skin before clasping his hand against yours. He pressed his cheekbone to your open palm, giving a quick kiss to your wrist.
It was odd to see the sudden affection he gave you— quite the contrary you didn’t expect such an action to come from him. It was soothing in a way— to see he’s not just another muscled brute. It was sudden, the way his hands slid underneath your thighs picking you up. You yelped, surprised by his movements; clinging onto his broad shoulders. He settled himself on his chair, placing you on his desk. Papers and folders scattered across the floor from the impact. His fingers ghosted over your bare skin leaving goosebumps in their wake.
His rough calloused hands caught hold of your thighs. Spreading them apart eagerly, his fingers pressed deep into your skin. His sudden actions caused you to fall back from the table, leaving yourself bare to him. You’re cheeks flushed in embarrassment, thighs snapping back together. The colonel scoffed, fingers pinching your skin. ❝ Now that won’t do— Spread em ❞ Tears raced down your cheek, humiliated and distraught by the actions you would be forced to do. You spread your legs, open and inviting towards the older male.
He tossed your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face in your covered cunt. You whined in embarrassment, heart pounding against your chest. He rubbed his cheek against your inner thigh, giving a quick nip to your skin. His fingers crept up towards the dip of your hips, pulling off your panties. He snagged them in his hand pocketing them. You freeze, tears streaming down your cheeks. His hands slid underneath your knee spreading your legs wide apart.
His tongue swiped over his lips, greedily staring at your uncovered cunt. ❝ look at you, all pretty and wet. Just for me right? Yeah— just for me ❞ His fingers prodded your wet cunt, cooing at the slickness you were producing. Silky soft and tight like a vice— promising pleasure. A needy minx— you were just asking for it weren’t you? He peppered your cunt with open mouthed kisses, tongue lapping up your slick. You shuffled in discomfort inching away from him slowly. But to your displeasure he had noticed your little scheme. His hands instantly dipped towards your ass, pulling you forward to his pleasure. The sudden shift in movement nearly caused you to fall, your back arched uncomfortable; heels digging onto his broad back.
Quaritch clenched his jaw, pursing his lips in annoyance. Why did you have to be so much trouble? Why do you make this difficult? A good spanking is ought to tame that attitude of yours. His hand came down to strike on the outside of your thigh, a scream erupting from your throat from the sudden impact. ❝ Behave or the deal is off and we wouldn’t want that do we? ❞ Your eyes scrunched up, lip trembling with distraught. It wasn’t pleasurable— nothing about this was pleasurable. Your stomach seemed to rise to your throat, threatening to spill all over. But you had to hold it in, this was the deal. He got what he wanted and you get what you wanted. It was fair— part of the deal.
Quaritch nearly moaned at the taste of your flavor bursting into his tastebuds. Had he known you would of tasted this damn good he would of resulted in other methods to get you in his arms sooner. He should of transferred you to his department— kept you naked in his dorm for his pleasure. Easy access to your bare pussy, keep you there forever. His own personal cocksleeve— He would take the time to savor you— not like this. This was different, this was a quick fix he needed. He needed to take now— he can’t have you backing out. Once he’s done with you— oh you’ll be back. Begging for more— He plunged back into your wet cunt, grip tightening as your squirmed from his ministrations. His nose bumped repeatedly against your clit, tongue dragging across your folds.
You bit your lip, trying to stay silent— but atlast his tongue plunged into your hole suddenly causing you to clamp your thighs on his head. Your hands tugging onto his hair as he sloppily ate you out. Everything was overwhelming— with the way his tongue is lapping up everything you have to offer. Low groans came from within his chest, rumbling in the pleasant taste your cunt provided him with. His blue eyes seemed to glaze over as his actions become more vigorous and intense. The slurping sounds coming from his actions we’re nearly pornographic— the way his tongue kept on thrusting and lapping caused the coil in your stomach to snap. You gasped letting out a loud moan, back arching off the desk as you squealed as he continued to nip and suck
Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you whined pathetically. Quaritch let out a chuckle, he wanted nothing more but to coax those cute moans out of you, see your overstimulated puffy cunt drooling for attention. His thumbs spread your cunt, eyeing your fluttering hole. A needy thing he mused. You were begging to be filled up nicely and who was he to deny you that pleasure? To deny himself? ❝God— you taste good ❞ His eyes rolled to the back of his head, swollen lips and nose covered in your slick— god you tasted divine— he wants more. Quaritch pulled you closer by the hips, tongue swirling around your clit. You whined, chest arching from the sheer pleasure he’s giving you. You’ve already cummed once— you can’t handle another one. You squirmed in his hold, hips thrusting up, sideways— anything to be away from his mouth. It’s too much— his mouth, his tongue against your cunt sends you into fits of sobs.
Quaritch scowled, arms clamping over your thighs to cease your struggling ❝ One more— just one more sweetheart ❞ he runs his tongue on the hood of your clit, groaning in response. You wince, screaming out his name, Quaritch peers up at you not bothering to halt in his ministrations. He was drunk off your screams— taste and the breathy moans you would let out.
When he does eventually stop with torturing you, your met with him between your thighs with his chin dripping in your slick. Your eyes fill with tears before he dips his head, tongue lapping up your overstimulated cunt. He doesn’t let up until your cumming, wailing for him. He leaned back, gazing at the mess he made. Your fluttering hole clenched around nothing, puffy and swollen from his relentless attack on your cunt. He wanted nothing more but to fill you up with his cock— but not now. He’ll save that moment for another day, get you nice and prepped just for him. Make it romantic— candles and petals scattered. His mouth curled up at the corner of his lips, yeah you’ll like that won’t you?
With one last kiss on the tip of your clit, Quaritch gave your outer thigh a firm slap. ❝ That wasn’t so bad now was it? No— you enjoyed it didn’t you? That’s my good girl ❞ He cooed mockingly—sickeningly. His gaze traveled to your eyes where he was met with pouting lips and tear stained cheeks. Chest heaving drawing attention to your bust — he’ll have his own fun with them soon. You were far too godamn pretty to let go off— His throat bobbed— cock twitching in his pants. On second thought maybe you can handle a couple of rounds more.
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→ Tag list
@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed
Would anyone else like to be tagged on the side stories?
━━━ : © NERVOUS.D
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melvisik · 7 months
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OFMD S2 SPOILERS
Warning: This post contains non-explicit, brief implications of sexual assault/harassment and (explicit) invasion of personal space. The subject of consent is delicate and complex and I am no expert, so if any information/opinions in this post are evaluated to be erroneous, seem careless, or cause too much controversy, this post will be deleted and apologies given.
Constructive criticism is welcome.
That goddamn scene in episode 6. There are so many amazing posts that have painstakingly broken it down. So at the risk of another potentially controversial (and definitely extremely long) post, here's a summary of a few favorite observations complied together: The main thing to remember is that these two are still frickin' whim-prone. They don't think things through sometimes, and here especially they didn't let themselves think. One would assume they deliberately didn't stop to question any of this - Stede didn't just throw Ed over the couch for a ravishing, he took time to prepare the room as Ed waited for him.
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Gifs credit to @mermaidstede
There was also absolutely something happening here on a more subconscious level, so here's a mixture of suggestions in one proposal: Ed came to comfort Stede, something that possibly no one has ever done for Stede before...
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Gifs credit to @mermaidstede
Perhaps without even consciously acknowledging it, Stede is so touched. And he's conflicted and in shock and so filled with love for this man - he is an absolute mess. Stede grabs this wonderful source of love and comfort...
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Gif credit to @mermaidstede
...and pushes him up against something solid to brace against. Stede is in something like a free fall, and he needs to feel something or someone is there to catch him before he crashes down...
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Gif credit to @gay Ed's subconscious might be catching on to this; after the initial surprise of Stede's literal launch at him, Ed's nigh-supernatural instincts gauge Stede and the state he's in.
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Gif credit to @gay Stede needs comfort and support desperately, something to show him that although he's killed someone who was a threat to the people important to him, he's not unlovable. So Ed gives the man he loves warmth...
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Gifs credit to @gay
Ed shares in the good shit with him...
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Gif credit to @nicostiel And Ed later tries to give him good food, like the marmalade he loves so much...
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Screenshot credit to @piratecaptainscaptainpirates Ed is technically stretching his boundaries here, but he isn't unwilling to become physical; as much as he prefers to wait, he wants Stede as much as Stede wants him. Ed’s also in a bit of a vulnerable state at this point; both he and Stede just had their personal space utlra-invaded (to put it mildly), by some creepy bastard who considered Ed scum.
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But Stede (who just caused said bastard's death for crimes Ed himself has committed against him - damaging his ship, hurting his crew) loves everything about him. Ed reciprocates. He's wanted Stede for a long while now, missing him like hell when Stede left...
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...and Ed almost just lost him again.
Moreover, Stede needs to know in this moment that he is loved, it's going to be ok, and that Ed is there for him. So Ed consents...
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Gif credit to @nicostiel He lets his adoring mate collapse against his body, giving him his usual sign of affectionate - a rough slap on his shoulder. That hand quickly slides up to brace around Stede's neck...
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Gif credit to @nicostiel
...just like Stede had done to him.
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Gif credit to @figmentof
Ed's touch is firm. The arm snapping around Stede's waist is firm as hell, as if Ed's giving Stede a combination of "I want you so much" and "It's okay, love. I've got you"
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Gif credit to @bulletsangwich
Stede lets go, melting into his beloved, and is surrounded by the strength of supportive arms. He more than likely snakes his own arm around Ed's waist, bringing his other hand up to gently cup Ed's head and pull this solid source of love and warmth closer. Maybe in some ways, Ed is still trying to protect Stede...
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Gifs credit to @izzy-hands ...and in some ways, Stede still needs to be protected. Now switch to (hypothetically) Stede's point of view right before this scene- We all saw it, that bastard did indeed hurt his crew and damaged Stede's ship, but when Ned blatantly disrespects and debases Ed...
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Gifs credit to @eddie-redcliffe ...Stede snaps. But then perhaps this is a rage that was building before and not just out of protectiveness. Stede was the one who foiled Ned's plan, and yet it's Blackbeard to whom Ned asks about his punishment. We've all noticed how Stede longs to be respected as The Gentleman Pirate, and yet even when he's victorious he isn't taken seriously. He comments later to his Republic of Pirates fanclub how he and Ed take turns making decisions, and that is exactly what he wants. He wants to be Ed's equal. He's not Ed's pet...
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Gif credit to @eddie-redcliffe
...anymore than Ed is Stede's plaything. Stede exacts his revenge, but it was an act from which he can never return. Olu and Jim told him in S1 - once you kill, it changes you forever. Ed's told him you can't come back from it. This is the first time he's intended to kill someone, and it leaves him reeling.
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He needs time, he goes to be alone. Then Ed shows up, concerned and worried about him. On the surface, perhaps Stede's brain is overcompensating, making him feel confident rather than devastated. Stede could be feeling like he's on the same level as Blackbeard now. Ed has deferred to him many times, but now others will do it too. And here's Ed/Blackbeard himself, sympathizing with him and just simply being the man Stede loves.
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Gifs credit to @mermaidstede
Stede lunges. He anchors them both into a stable place, then switches to being being gentle, waiting to see how Ed will react. Maybe also he's thinking how he and Ed are on equal footing now? They can be true pirates together. Or maybe he's musing about how Ned was so wrong, and Ed is absolutely everything? In any case, he treats Ed tenderly when the permission is given, treasuring their closeness but not really recognizing just what his subconscious could really be seeking.
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Gif credit to @moiirasketchup In any case, what we ultimately see this night are a pair of kindred wrecks giving over to passion, spurred on from mutual desire and a deep need to show and receive love and comfort. Of course, there are numerous other ways to express these things to one's partner(s) rather than sexually (though it can be a method for some relationships), but for better or worse that seems the be what's happened here. Ed could have stopped it, pushed Stede away or talked him through it. He chose not to.
Stede could have just not initiated it in the first place. In fact, he probably shouldn’t have, and wouldn’t have in he were in the right headspace.
But the heat of the moment can be a bitch when emotions are running high. These overwhelming feelings are in addition to all their other traumatic baggage (which would take too long to analyze in this already-too-long-post, but for example - 'defiling beautiful things,' the different paths they're on, etc.), and again, these two are still frickin whim-prone. This really seems to be a moment when they're both just like "Fuck it."
So when Ed eventually calms down from basking in the afterglow, perhaps he realizes that yes, that could have been handled differently. He agreed to it, he wanted it, but was that really what Stede (or he) needed, and now what does it mean for their future? Ed panics, and true to his whimsy ways, he runs off to become a fisherman without really knowing anything about it.
Stede on the other hand is still running off a major high - he's destroyed a brief-time nemesis, gained infamy, learned pirating skills from one of the best, pulled off successful raids, reclaimed his ship, protected his crew, and made love to the love of his life. Then it all comes crashing down on him - his beloved leaves him, his crew are moving on to others things, and he gets his ass whooped while trying to separate lovers and pursue danger as if he somehow wants to destroy himself.
To state the obvious - Ed and Stede need each other. To share in fun and happiness, and to be there when the other really needs him.
We see them struggling figure out the best way to handle these trying times, and while some of the regrets and the risks are unavoidable, we all suspect (ie know) the rewards would most certainly outweigh them.
And on that note, to sum it up...
It's just the same old song Nothing cruel, nothing wrong It's just two fools Who know the rules But break them all And grasp at half a chance To play their part In a light romance
-"Light Romance" from Blood Brothers P.S. Ok, there's definitely nothing light about their romance but dammit, there's a unshakable need to add a Blood Brothers reference in an episode where Con O'Neill sings like the goddess he is...
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Gif credit to @mozarlin P.P.S. Some other sources/insights can be found here (made a list of 'research material' this time):
A couple of analyses of the 'night in question' and/with 'day after'-
And a wonderful analysis/subtext-translation of episode 7's 'last night was a mistake' conversation-
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yuesya · 2 months
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Pain.
Mind-numbing, excruciating. Mechamaru is no stranger to pain –to him, pain is a constant companion, day in and day out, stretching on and on with no end in sight.
He was born with this condition. With a deformed body that was missing an arm, too weak to even stand upright on its own, skin that felt like it was constantly being flayed and even burned beneath moonlight-
Mechamaru is no stranger to pain. It’s something that he’s used to, something that he’s already grown numb to.
And yet, in this moment –all that registers to his senses is pain, his entire body feels like it’s been shattered into a thousand different shards but cobbled together in mismatched pieces all the same, bones grating and burning and he can’t–
He can’t–
Pain burning it’s no use help no can’t stop Special Grade kill I’m dying no escape–
… Miwa… I…
A green light blooms in front of him. Mechamaru gasps, as a sudden coolness washes through his body, leaving nothing but blessed relief in its wake.
Then, a hand rests upon his head, followed by the sound of a soft, feminine voice. For a moment, the words flow over him uncomprehendingly, before he finally realizes them for what they are: Incantations.
“White,” Gojo Shiki intones, and Mechamaru trembles involuntarily beneath the swell of the other sorcerer’s cursed energy.
Another voice speaks up as the hand is withdrawn from his head. Male, mild-sounding. Mechamaru slowly opens his eyes, only to see a green-haired man with a snake draped over his shoulders step back from him. But beside him, the white-haired girl with eerie blue eyes remains unmoving.
… Gojo Shiki.
Mechamaru struggles and attempts to sit up –but it’s no use. His limbs won’t obey him. Mechamaru blinks, and realizes that it’s… wrong. The angle is wrong; that cursed spirit Mahito might’ve fixed his body, but Mechamaru isn’t supposed to be this tall. His body isn’t supposed to feel so swollen and bloated, either, almost as if–
Horror lances sharply through his chest when he catches sight of sickly gray-green skin from the corner of his eye.
Mechamaru is not an idiot. He grasps the implications of this immediately. After all, he’s seen so many of the victims of Idle Transfiguration through the screens of his surveillance puppets; how could he possibly not recognize this?
“Muta-san,” Gojo-san’s voice is calm, neutral. Mechamaru wishes that he has half of the other sorcerer’s calm in this moment –there’s something inside him that wants to scream. The whole point of everything he did was so he could join everyone and walk beside them as a normal person and–!
“Muta-san, focus.”
“What… do you want?” Even his voice is distorted, raspy and near-indecipherable. His mouth moves, but Mechamaru is barely able to form the words and force them out from his throat.
“Information,” the white-haired girl responds. “… But that will have to wait, I suppose.”
Mechamaru breathes out a harsh laugh. Yeah, I bet that’s the case. To think that he would be the first transfigured human-monster to live… there was a certain irony in that, he supposed. One that he does not have the inclination to appreciate.
“Why am I still alive?” he asks bluntly. Even with her arrival… Mechamaru would’ve expected Gojo Shiki to prioritize killing the cursed spirits and Geto Suguru over making sure that he lived. Unless… “Have I already been pardoned by the higher-ups?”
“Colluding with an unknown, malicious group of Special Grade cursed spirits and curse users is a crime, Muta-san,” she responds mildly.
For some reason, Mechamaru snaps.
“You think I don’t know that?” Of course it’s a crime. Of course it’s a crime! … But what other choice did he have? Mechamaru so desperately wanted to be normal. He’d never asked to be born with this goddamned Heavenly Restriction that left him an invalid cripple! He’d never wanted this!
He just… he just wanted to be able to walk next to everyone.
To smile, to laugh with them, beneath that brilliant sun.
… He’d wanted it so badly, but it was… impossible. Impossible, until a Special Grade cursed spirit with the ability to freely change the human form showed up on his radar, and–
What other choice did Mechamaru have?
“… You don’t understand,” he finds himself growling at the other sorcerer, who remains perfectly composed and unaffected by his agitation. Ever the image of perfection, Gojo Shiki. Gojo Shiki, who was the princess of the Gojo Clan, the blessed child who’d been born talented and powerful and would never, never be able to relate to the same desperation that clawed at Mechamaru from inside. Who could just sit back calmly and judge him from her high seat –what gave her that right?! “You don’t understand!”
“I do not,” she says. “To clarify, are you admitting to betraying the administration and aligning yourself with Geto Suguru?”
“NO!” Mechamaru roars. Because-
He wants a normal, healthy body so badly, but… he’d never truly been on Geto’s side. Because Geto wants to destroy everything, and Mechamaru cares about everyone in Kyoto High, and… and Geto was a threat to them all. It had only ever been a temporary arrangement. Mechamaru would use Geto to accomplish his goal of being healed, and allow Geto to use him for information-gathering in the meantime. Then, once he finally got what he wanted–
… ha. Just what is he saying? Just look at Mechamaru now –broken and defeated, a transfigured monster. And he only had himself to blame for it.
Mechamaru shakes his head roughly, forcing himself to refocus.
There’s… there’s another person standing next to Gojo-san. A young man with dark green hair and piercing gold eyes, and for some reason just looking at him sends a chill running down Mechamaru’s spine. There’s… there’s something truly awful about his cursed energy, almost as if–
“It’s fine,” Gojo-san has a hand held out in front of the new arrival. “It was merely an emotional outburst, nothing more.”
“Very well,” the boy says, with a brief glance towards the other sorcerer. There's something rather strange about the way he speaks, the lilt and the accent of a foreign dialect, although Mechamaru is uncertain of how to place it. “But if he is unable to control himself–”
“I will adhere to the terms of the binding vow… ah, the contract that I have promised.”
Binding… vow?
… Gojo-san… made a binding vow for him? And if he was reading this situation correctly, it was to... ensure his safety, in the monstrous form that he now wore...?
A complicated mix of emotions wash over him –shame, fear, apprehension. Mechamaru swallows roughly.
(“Wait, what do you mean, we’re in a different world?!”)
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deancaspinefest · 3 months
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If Only You Return to Me
Author: arlingtonchamberofgay | Artist: sidewinder
Posting on Tuesday April 9
The world has been saved, yet again, but this time, Dean is forced to carry on without his best friend. His best friend, who loved him. In true Winchester fashion, Dean decides to shove down and bury his feelings about the last words that Cas said to him and the implications thereof, instead burying himself in alcohol, hunting, and stupid ass decisions. After a failed rescue attempt in the Empty, he’s forced to reassess what his life looks like without the angel. Until, one day, a run of the mill hunt goes wrong because of a small bit of rebar. Castiel somehow awakens in the Empty, much to the Shadow’s ever growing annoyance. After making a deal to return to Earth to find Dean in exchange for his grace, Cas finds himself in the same room he last saw the man. He’s devastated to discover that he’s too late, Dean is dead and in Heaven. Dean and Cas are desperate to find their way back to each other, but the universe seems to be working hard to keep them apart.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
“Hey, I found a case close by, down in Corinth; it’s only a 35 minute drive. What do you say we go check it out?” Sam jumps at Dean’s question, considering they’ve been quietly sitting at the War Room table at their laptops for well over three hours now. Sam sips on a beer while Dean downs his 4th glass of whiskey. When Dean asks Sam about heading out on the case, his words aren’t necessarily slurred but they’re not fully coherent either.
Sam looks at his brother hesitantly. “Don’t you think you should sober up a bit?”
“‘M fine, besides not my first time drinkin a little on a hunt.”
“Have you eaten anything today? Or yesterday? Or the day before, for that matter?”
“Psh, yeah, I had a slice of pizza last night.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what else?” Sam looks at him expectantly.
“That’s it. That’s all I need.” To emphasize his point, Dean begins pouring himself another glass.
“Dude, besides the fact that it’s noon and you’re about to be on your fifth glass of whiskey, you haven’t eaten an actual meal in days! You look like a goddamn ghost dude.
“Look, I know that something happened before Cas was taken-”
“Don’t you /dare/ say his name.” Dean bites out, his glare piercing into Sam. /Yeah, this is bad./ Sam thinks to himself.
Sam stares at him inquisitively, trying to carefully decide his next words. “Look, whatever happened … you can’t keep beating yourself up over it, okay? Mourning him is perfectly normal, but-” He motions to the bottle and glass in Dean’s hands, “drinking ‘til you’re blind isn’t the way to deal with it. And going on a hunt drunk is just a death wish.”
“Yeah, well maybe I’ve got one,” Dean mutters to himself, but Sam hears it nonetheless. The younger Winchester sighs, gets up from the table, and heads to his room to get his bag ready for the case.
(continue reading on Ao3 on Tuesday April 9)
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