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#I guess I just wanted to tell it somewhere
lizardkingeliot · 2 days
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The thing is tho... okay.
Here's the thing.
AMC’s Interview with the Vampire has so effectively driven home the point that Lestat loves Louis without condition and will continue loving him to the same degree forever regardless of the passage of time and regardless of what Louis has done that sometimes it's easy to forget that, like... Louis doesn't actually know that. Sometimes I'm really just like what do you MEAN Louis de Pointe du Lac doesn't know he's Lestat de Lioncourt's heartbeat now and forever Louis de Pointe du Lac do you even watch the SHOW.
Anyway. I don't know what I'm trying to say here but I think it's something about the romantic angst of it all. The way Lestat is going to be forced to betray Claudia and Louis in Paris during the trial leaving Louis with the belief that Lestat doesn't want him. He will view this as a rejection and this is the reason why he is going to spend the next 77 years of his life with Armand. This is why he couldn't just reach out to Lestat post-Paris and try to work things out. I’m not saying anything new here, I know. Most of us have worked this out already. It took me a while to get there yesterday when I was digesting the episode because, like I said, Lestat’s love is so obvious it’s easy to forget Louis really doesn’t know. But listen….
Louis is deeply unwell in 1973 San Francisco. When Lestat asks him why he’s ill all I can think right now is… well. Because he doesn’t have you. Even before he walked into the sun he was ill because he doesn’t have you. Ill in New Orleans after the deed was done. Ill in Paris and sustaining himself with memories so vivid it was like Lestat was there in the room. Ill in San Francisco when Armand could have ended it all by relaying Lestat's words to Louis, and didn't. Ill in Dubai searching the well of memory trying to find his way back to something like sanity again...
But listen. Sam Reid said Lestat very much thinks Louis is dead after 1973. This tracks. It fits very neatly with the ~theme. With what this season is trying to do wrt the romantic angst of it all. Maybe Lestat is still locked up in a dungeon or underground somewhere sleeping, maybe he isn't. Maybe he's rotting away in New Orleans, wrecked with grief, thinking about walking out and greeting the sun every morning when it rises and he's reminded Louis is gone. I guess we'll find out soon enough…
But listen. There's not some great conclusion I'm trying to arrive at with this post. I'm just spinning my wheels thinking about how delicious the tropes on this show truly are. To separate a love like that, to have Louis believe Lestat doesn't want him and have Lestat believe that Louis is dead. Well, friends... that sounds like a recipe for a grand reunion to me. And maybe what I'm trying to do with this post is toss another coin in the wishing well of a potential season 3. Because you can't have a love story like this that is destined to end in a reunion only to come back the next season to pretend it doesn't matter. I don't know. Maybe you can. But I really hope they don't. I really hope when they come back together at the end of this nightmare, when Lestat is finally permitted to have a voice of his own, that voice will be echoing through the halls of their home, because he'll be telling his story to Louis.
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Omg congratulations on 700! 🎉 It is so so we’ll deserved. I must admit that I reread your work a lot because it is just so good and some of my favorites! 🥰
For the prompt, as always I am a SUCKER for the one bed trope, but I’d like to add another fun element so….
Blue + Lion + Hummingbird perhaps? 😈
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Okay this one was a request by many, including my cutie pal @thirstydiglett and @truebluesanji and HOT DOG is it a good one!
Just One Bottle (+18)
Pairing: Sanji x Strawhat Fem!Reader
Prompt: Only One Bed x Aphrodisiac
WC: 2000 lol
Warnings: Open for interpretation on how the pals ended up ingesting the aphrodisiac, forced closeness, unprotected sex, p in v sex, morning after pill discussion, drug use, creampie, Sanji being a gentleman!
— — 
You strolled the aisles of the bookstore as you waited for Sanji to finish up his snail call outside. You ran your fingers across the labels gently as you passed by each shelf. You glanced towards the shop windows and saw that Sanji was outside giving some choice words to whoever was on the end of his transponder snail. The sun was setting and you found yourself captivated by the way the low light reflected off his blonde hair. He looked handsome. 
But he wasn’t your type. He was always fawning over you, even more obnoxiously so than for Nami and Robin. You never gave him half a thought in terms of a choice as a romantic partner, he was just a crew mate that you cared for deeply… as a friend. You turned down another aisle of bookshelves as you could clearly tell that Sanji wasn’t finishing his conversation any time soon. 
You found yourself stopped at the romance section and pulled a bright purple tome off the shelf. “Part Time Human, Full Time Lover…” You read the title to yourself before flipping it open. You find yourself reading a rather graphic passage describing an intimate encounter between the human protagonist and her well-endowed centaur lover. “Goodness…” You whisper to yourself as you find yourself flipping the page in interest. 
“Y/n!” You snap the book closed instinctively as you hear your name called. Sanji was rounding the corner of the aisle and came up to you. 
“Sanji! Hi!” You hurriedly put the book back on the shelf. “Any news?” 
“Well, the sun is going down fast and the moss head idiot got his group lost so we have to stay on the island for the night. We’re all too far apart to get back to the Sunny. We can find an inn around here and get some rooms.” Sanji explains to you. 
“Fine, hopefully somewhere with a restaurant. I’m starving.” You smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a night off from cooking?” You raise an eyebrow at the tall blonde. 
“I guess. Don’t expect the same quality of food that you’d get back on the ship. Shall we?” Sanji remarks as he gestures to the door of the bookstore, letting you go first. 
— —
After wandering the small village for awhile, the two of you find a small inn that had a tavern on the first floor. You ducked in, trying not to draw attention seeing as the two of you were highly wanted pirates. 
Sanji strode confidently to the front desk. 
“We require two rooms for the night. Money is no issue.” Sanji stoically demands of the innkeeper. 
“Sir I’m sorry… but we only have one room left tonight… I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate…” The mousey old man behind the counter said as his voice trembled. 
“This kind of dump has no vacancy? You’re telling me that this hole in the wall has only one room available-“
“We’ll take it.” You pushed past Sanji’s shoulder and placed your stack of Beri on the counter. 
The innkeeper’s eyes danced from your smile to Sanji’s scowl. 
“We’ll take it.” Sanji echoed, lowering his voice. 
“E-e-excellent news! I will issue you your keys now. Would the couple like one set or two?” The old man sputters out. 
“Two.” “One.”
You say two and Sanji replies with one. He clears his throat. 
“Two, please sir.” Sanji changes his response. 
The old man issues you two sets of keys and hands you your change after you pay for the room. 
“Please, enjoy our restaurant. You may find that sharing a room is not uncommon among couples at this hotel.” The innkeeper mentions. 
You look up at Sanji. 
“I am kind of hungry, Sanji. Shall we?” You question. 
“Can’t go to bed with any empty stomach, can we?” Sanji shrugs. 
Sanji put his hand on the small of your back and led you in the direction of the small restaurant. 
“Two of you?” The stout hostess asked and you nodded. She led you and Sanji to a candlelit table in the back of the pub. Of course, Sanji pulled your chair out for you. Once seated across from one another, you picked up the drink menu. 
“The room was so cheap… should we get the champagne?” You smirk over the menu across the table at Sanji. 
“Nami would kill us… what’s the label?” Sanji gestures to grab the drink menu from you and you hand it to him. His brows furrow. “I actually haven’t heard of this brand before… but it’s expensive… must be from the South Blue…” Sanji quirks a curled eyebrow up at you. “Should we?”
The sides of your mouth curl up. 
“Yes.” 
Sanji breaks into a grin as the waitress arrived at your table. 
“Anything I can get you two tonight?” The cute redheaded waitress asked you both. 
“We’ll start with a bottle of the champagne.” Sanji says to the waitress. “And for food… anything your recommend for a night on the town?” He says with a smirk. 
“Oh, I think our chef can do something for you.” The waitress says with a smile. 
“Perfect.” Sanji says as he snaps his menu closed and hands it to the waitress. 
— — 
The two of you had finished your bottle of champagne and dinner and were waiting around for the waitress to bring you your bill. 
“No no, it really was lovely. I just have never had a champagne like this…” Sanji says as the two of you discuss dinner. 
“The oysters were a nice touch, I thought.” You remark. 
“Mr BlackLeg sir thank you…” The waitress interrupts as he places a large stack of Beri on the tray containing your bill. 
“That was a nice tip you left…” You say as Sanji ushers you softly out of your seat, covering your back with his suit jacket. “Far more than most would.” You didn’t feel drunk, but you felt some strange warmth growing in your lower half. It started building when you drank that damned champagne. 
“It’s nothing for someone who used to work in hospitality. Their service is worth far more than the champagne.” Sanji says as he guides you to the stairs, leading you up to your room on the third floor. 
You reach your room and Sanji fumbles with the keys before getting the lock open. The door opens to reveal a small room with a queen size bed and an ensuite bathroom. 
“I-I can sleep on the floor.” Sanji says immediately. You turned and saw that his cheeks were bright pink. Was it from the alcohol?
“It’s fine, we’re adults. Let’s just get to bed.” You respond and begin stripping off your pants. You then unstrap your bra and take it off through the front of your shirt. Sanji hesitates for a second before stripping down to just his boxers. 
“I’ll take this side.” You said awkwardly as you slide into the bed. 
“Right. Goodnight then.” Sanji shuts off the lights and hops into bed on the side opposite you. 
“Yep. Night.” You curl up into your side, so that you wouldn’t encroach on your crew mates sleeping space. 
All you can hear is labored breathing. 
Was it your own?
Was it Sanji’s?
Something was off. You couldn’t sleep. 
Why was your pulse thrumming in your privates? Why was there slick gushing out of your slit to soak your underwear? Nothing even remotely sexual has happened tonight and yet your levels of arousal were off the charts. You tossed and turned for several minutes trying to ignore it, having the ache between your legs only grow more intense. 
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
“Sanji?” You whisper out into the darkness. 
“Gods, Y/N, tell me you feel like I do right now.” Sanji responds in between pants. 
“What the fuck happened to us?” You breath out to the dark ceiling above you. 
“Something in that drink…” Sanji breathes out. “It fucking hurts…” 
You peer over to your left and see Sanji grabbing at his crotch beneath the sheets. 
“They drugged us.” You pant out, right hand delving into your panties and rubbing at your clit, trying to get some relief from the burn this mysterious wine was causing you. 
“I-I don’t know how to say this, mon cherie… But what if we… helped each other…" Sanji said as he saw you pleasuring yourself beneath the bed covers. 
“Right… it’s just helping a friend…” You say softly as you touch your sex further, reaching your left hand out under the sheets to wrap around Sanji’s erect penis. 
“YES- I mean, yes-“ Sanji jerks at your touch. “It’s just relieving each other…”
“Okay… fine…” You relent. 
Sanji jumps up and positions himself above you in a nanosecond. You take this time to push your panties down and your t-shirt over your head.
“Spread your legs for me, my love…” Sanji whispers as he hovers over you. “Show me what you need…” 
“Sanji please, I need you inside of me.” You pleaded as you brought your hand down to spread your pussy lips. “Sanji why does it hurt?! Please help me!” You bucked your hips in his direction. You were desperate. 
“I’m gonna fix it, okay? I’m gonna stop it from hurting. Do you want that, y/n?” Sanji asked. 
“Yes! Please help me!” You cried out again as you saw Sanji pull himself fully from his boxers. 
Sanji dances the head of his dick across you clit as you whimpered. 
“I’ve got you, mon amour…” Sanji assures you as he leans down and pushes his cock into your trembling hole. 
“OH-!” The moan is ripped from your lungs as you feel the throbbing head of Sanji’s member push past your g-spot to fill you completely. “Fucking finally-“ You groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the fullness you’ve been craving in your bones finally being fulfilled. 
“More, more, more….” You chant as Sanji bucks his hips into yours with a fervent pace. Whatever aphrodisiac was in that wine had fully engulfed your brain and all you wanted was a thick cock inside of you stretching you out. The only thing you could focus on was the wet glide of Sanji’s heavy dick in and out of your hole. “Please, more!” You cried. 
“My love, I’ll give you everything you want…” Sanji’s eagerness to please came through as he pushed your thighs up towards your chest, allowing him further access to your favorite spot. “Need you to cum on me… please..” He begged. 
“M-More.. want more..." You whimper out. 
Sanji takes one of his hands from the crook of your knee and places it around your neck gently. He leans in and places a tender kiss on your lips. He moves his other hand to the top of your sex. Sanji slips two fingers inside of you next to his own cock, assuring you're full to the brim and your favorite spot is being stroked with every thrust.
"San-ji! So- Fuckin- Full!" You cried out in the throws of pleasure, finally feeling exactly what you wanted.
“I can’t do this much longer, mon cherie, so wet and so tight…” Sanji groans into your lips as he ruts into you like an animal. “Need you to cum…” 
“I’m…cumming… fuck!” You scrunch your eyes shut and scratch at Sanji’s naked back. 
“So perfect….” Sanji whimpers into your sweaty neck as he shoots his load into you. You stroked his neck all the way down to the base of his spine. 
“Aaah- Fuck- Ah!” You hear the cook grunt into your flesh as he digs his hips into yours further. 
“A-are you cumming again?” You ask with a heavy sigh, coming down from your own orgasm. 
“Sh-shiiiit….” Sanji groans. Tears prick at your eyes as overstimulation sets in. “M-my love…” 
You feel Sanji’s hips drive further into yours, impossibly deep. He was emptying yet another massive load in you in less than a few minutes, it was spilling filthily out of your hole around his cock. Sanji collapsed almost immediately on top of you without pulling out. 
Sanji wrapped his arms around your torso and settled in.
“You know you’re going to have to ask Chopper about a ‘morning after’ situation, right?” You muse as you stroke Sanji’s lower back. 
“I think the embarrassment is worth it.” Sanji smirks as he nuzzles into your breast. 
You smile and pull your love-cook close to fall asleep.
— —
Hope you ALL enjoyed!
xx
Mo 
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azzibuckets · 4 hours
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for a pazzi prompt maybe them transitioning from friends to lovers but nobody questioning it at all because they’ve always been touchy anyway
in love with you [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: how do i always manage to stray from the prompt…i read this as friends as benefits to lovers😭
word count: 1.7k
masterlist
Paige panted against Azzi’s skin, letting her body fall slack against her best friend. Fingers lightly ran over the skin on her back, soothingly tracing patterns as she recovered. She let her eyes close as she deeply inhaled, trying to memorize Azzi’s scent and ingrain it into her head forever - warm vanilla and mandarin, with a musky hint of sweat.
When Paige finally caught her breath, she propped herself up on her elbows so that she could cup the face of the girl beneath her. “I needed that,” she breathed, the tips of her fingers gently brushing away the hair from Azzi’s eyes.
Azzi subconsciously leaned into her touch, a small smile forming its way onto her pretty pink lips. “What’s a best friend good for if they can’t relieve your stress?” she teased.
Paige bit the inside of her cheek, the startling pain a harsh but much needed reality check for her. Azzi was her best friend, albeit with benefits, but still nothing more. For some reason, she constantly needed the reminder that someone as beautiful and sweet as Azzi Fudd would never fall for someone like her. But it was her fault whenever she got her hopes up, thought maybe the way Azzi looked at her or had sex with her meant something different.
Paige rolled off of the younger girl and studied the ceiling. Azzi stayed for a second there, unmoving, before she lifted herself from the bed and started rummaging around the floor for her clothes.
“Leaving already?” Paige wrinkled her eyebrow, surprised at Azzi’s rush when she usually took her time in bed, sharing in lingering kisses before reluctantly leaving.
“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi said as she continued looking around. “I got something planned.” She turned around, her hands on her hips and a confused expression on her face. “Where’d you throw my shirt again? I could’ve sworn it was over here somewhere.”
Paige shrugged, folding her arms behind her head as she watched her best friend. “I don’t know. Just wear one of my things like you always do.”
Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but hesitated as if she wasn’t sure what to say. Paige leaned forward, suspicious at the girl’s sudden nervousness. “Why are you acting all weird? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
The dark haired girl shook her head too quickly. “No. Just, you know. Prefer to not let everyone know we’re sleeping together.”
Paige grabbed the nearest shirt she could find and wrestled it over her head as she started advancing towards Azzi. “Now you’re definitely being weird. We always wear each other’s clothes and no one cares.” She was directly in front of Azzi now. Paige reached down to grab her hand. “What’s up?” she swung their interlocked hands, her face etched with concern.
Azzi bit her lip, looking everywhere but Paige. “I just have, you know, a date. And showing up wearing your clothes isn’t exactly a good look?”
The blonde’s heart started pounding at this news, but she tried to maintain a facade of indifference. “A date right after a hookup? Azzi, you slut,” she joked, but her laugh sounded choked out and the words hung lifelessly in the air between them, the punchline clearly fucked up.
Azzi shrugged. “You’re the one who called me. And besides, the date’s nothing serious.” She resumed her search for her clothes, but Paige stayed frozen where she was.
After a few moments of silence, Paige spoke up again. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” She nudged the younger girl’s shoulder from where she was bent down.
Azzi didn’t look up. “I don’t know. I didn’t want it to be weird, I guess.”
“Why would it be weird?” Paige’s tone was cautious. “We tell each other everything.”
“Like I said, I don’t know.” Azzi glanced over her shoulder at the blonde before quickly turning back around. She spotted her shirt in the depths of Paige’s closet and grabbed it, rushing to put it on. “It’s just…it’s the first date I’m going on since this started to happen.” She gestured between the two of them, wordlessly indicating their friends with benefits situation. “And I didn’t really know how to go about it. I didn’t wanna be weird?”
Paige bit her cheek again, this time strong enough to draw blood. “Well, we talked about this. We said we wanted to keep things normal, and keeping things normal means continuing to tell me things you’d tell me even without this agreement going on.”
Now fully dressed, Azzi studied herself in the mirror, unleashing the braids from the hasty ponytail she’d thrown her hair in earlier. “Honestly, I don’t get why you care so much,” she muttered.
Paige hovered next to Azzi, desperately wishing the girl would turn around and just look at her, but she stood there stubbornly, eyes fixed on her own reflection. “Sue me for being interested in my best friend’s life.”
Azzi finally made eye contact with her, but her stare was piercing. “Well, you’re starting to act weirdly possessive.”
Paige crossed her arms, conscious of the fact that she was standing doggedly between Azzi and the door. “Don’t go.” She hadn’t meant for those words to come out of her mouth, but they had, and now she wished she’d taped her lips shut.
Azzi’s eyebrow cocked. “Don’t go?” she repeated, a hint of amusement glittering in her eyes.
The older girl cemented her resolve. “Stay,” she pleaded, inwardly wincing at the humiliating desperation that tinged her voice.
Azzi swallowed hard, seemingly starting to understand that Paige wasn’t joking. All humor was gone from her expression now. “Paige,” she said seriously. “You’re my best friend. You know I won’t go if you don’t want me to. But just know that asking me to stay would be incredibly selfish of you.”
Paige dropped her gaze. This is why she loved Azzi - her raw honesty combined with her fierce loyalty. But at the same time, she knew she was being utterly self-absorbed, pathetically trying to keep Azzi to herself when the girl clearly wanted something more than anything Paige could have to offer.
“Fine.” Her voice was weak. She cleared her throat, and said more steadily, “Go.”
Azzi looked at her hard, her eyes steely. But when she brushed past her to leave, the touch of her fingertips to Paige’s elbow was gentle. “I’ll see you later.”
••••••••••••••••••••
Azzi knew that this wouldn’t work. Throwing herself at other girls, hoping one of them would act similarly enough to Paige - talk like her or look like her or smile like her - so that she could mollify the growing ache in her heart and forget about the only person she’s ever truly wanted.
And when the date went absolutely haywire, the other girl turning out to be an egocentric bitch who wouldn’t stop ordering expensive dishes and adding more to the bill, Azzi had walked right on out. Five minutes later, Paige had pulled up to the curb of the restaurant, but not with an i told you so look on her face but a gaze of such softness that Azzi wondered how she’d even agreed to the date in the first place.
“Thanks.” Azzi broke the stifling silence in the car. She leaned her head against the window, studying the dark scenery flying past them.
“I was nearby. It wasn’t a problem.” They both knew Paige was lying, but Azzi appreciated the effort.
Later that night, when Paige had invited her to stay the night and Azzi didn’t have the strength in her to say no like she’s ever been able to say no to Paige, and Azzi started ranting about how she could never find the right person, because they always turned out to be rude or weird or just not for her, Paige had started smiling with that stupid smirk on her face, leaning closer and closer to Azzi, and they’d somehow ended up tangled in white sheets and each other’s limbs for the second time in twenty four hours, but neither of them were really complaining.
And after that, when Paige was lying on Azzi, both of them bare and vulnerable but more than just physically, Paige had said, “You know why all your dates are dumb fucks?”
Azzi had said no. She’d been sleepy, partly from the exhaustion of the day and party from the way Paige was tracing circles around the piercing in her belly button.
That was the night Azzi realized Paige was in love with her, because Paige had told her, had told her about the way she was so selfless and kind and gentle to everyone around her, a warm light that made everyone else shine brighter by simply just existing, about the way she was admiringly wholly and entirely dedicated to developing her art, always looking to the interests of the team before her own, and the way she was so good with kids, always treating them like real people and having conversations with them. And Paige hadn’t said those words explicitly, said “these are the reasons why I’m in love with you.” No, she’d listed them out as reasons why all the people Azzi went on dates with were “dumb fucks.” But by the time Paige had finished her rant, her chest heaving, the look in her eyes full of the familiar desperation and determination that Azzi had become accustomed to along with another thing she’d always failed at recognizing but which she now realized as longing, Azzi had figured that these were the things that Paige was in love with. That sure, these might be things that all the failed dates in her past might’ve failed to seen in her. But more importantly, these were reasons that Paige had wanted her to stay.
And so that night Azzi had taken the initiative to be the one to explicitly say “I love you” first. Even though Paige’s almost-monologue from moments before was basically an “I love you” in its own right.
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skyward-floored · 2 days
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This is an earlier version of my fic Murkier Waters, which I’d saved because I thought Legend’s perspective was interesting, even if it didn’t end up working for the end product. It ends at an odd moment and is kinda messy so pleeeeaaaase read the actual fic for much better writing (and an ending lol).
Anyway, voila. Fishy Legend from a different POV.
————————————————————
“I think we’re lost.”
Legend groaned at Hyrule’s words, watching as the traveler looked around at the trees above them. He stepped into a particularly moist section of dirt while he wasn’t looking, which splashed mud on his boots, and he failed to hold back a sigh.
“I told you we should’ve turned left at that last pond,” Legend grumbled, and Hyrule shrugged with an apologetic smile, a bird cawing loudly in the distance.
Hyrule had sensed a great fairy somewhere in the vicinity, and Legend had tagged along with him, half out of curiosity, and half to make sure his successor didn’t get completely lost. He’d rather failed on that second point though, and they were now miles away from the others in a swamp unfamiliar to them both, getting more lost by the second.
He hated not having a map.
“You don’t think this is the swamp that the Smithy said still had some poison spots in it, do you?” Hyrule asked as he stepped over a puddle, and Legend hummed, looking around.
“How many swamps can there possibly be around here? I haven’t seen anything poisonous-looking though, so maybe Four was wrong,” he replied.
Hyrule nodded, waving a bug away from his face. “Yeah... maybe whatever was left here finally got cleansed or something.”
“Maybe.”
They continued forwards through the muck, swatting away bugs and avoiding one or two birds that swooped past. They had to fight off a couple of keese at one point, but that was the only thing that actively antagonized them, and their walk was fairly uneventful.
Legend wasn’t sure how long they’d been going when the forest opened up, a small lake coming into view through the trees, tall banks on all sides except the one they were standing on. The opposite shore was easily visible, but the water itself shone with an unnatural shimmer, the depths murky and dark.
“Guess we found our poison water,” Hyrule said with a frown, looking across the oily-colored liquid. Legend grabbed a stick and poked it into the water for a minute before pulling it out and inspecting it, but the wood hadn’t corroded at all, and appeared unharmed apart from the slick now coating it.
“Well it doesn’t seem like acid at least,” Legend hummed, giving the water a suspicious look. “I still don’t think we should cross it though.”
Hyrule didn’t appear to have heard him, suddenly perking up as he stared across the shore. His eyes shimmered a little, and Legend raised an eyebrow, leaning over and looking at him.
“Traveler?”
“I think the fairy fountain is over there,” Hyrule replied excitedly, squinting across the lake. “I can feel the magic way more clearly now!”
“Oh. Well that’s great,” Legend drawled. “Except for the fact that there’s a poisonous lake in between it and us, and even if it wasn’t poisonous, you can’t swim.”
Hyrule waved him off, rifling in his bag a moment before pulling out a pair of boots.
“Doesn’t matter, I can walk across water with these, poison or not,” he said with a smile, already slipping off his other pair and putting on the new ones. “It’ll be easy!”
“Well how am I going to get across?” Legend said grumpily, admiring Hyrule’s boots. He could tell they were magic just looking at them, despite their unassuming appearance. Well-made too, magic interwoven as the shoes had been put together, allowing the wearer to walk across water.
...He wanted a pair.
Hyrule looked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t have any items that’ll help you get across?”
Legend kicked at the mud, mentally going through the list he had of all of his items. Of course he did. He had at least six different ones. Did Hyrule have no faith in him?
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well then come on! Let’s go!” Hyrule said with a smile, and without further ado began walking across the water, faint ripples emanating out from where his feet stepped on the surface.
“I need a pair of boots like that,” Legend grumbled jealously, then pulled out his ice rod to freeze a path he could walk across.
If he was alone, he’d just allow his mermaid transformation to take over and swim across, but he didn’t trust the murky water underneath him one bit. Hyrule didn’t know about his curse yet anyway, and he’d prefer to keep the number of people aware of it as small as possible. Though Hyrule would probably take it in stride, knowing him.
Either way, Legend wanted his feet on something solid, and the ice rod was perfect for that.
He was just glad he’d packed his snowshoe ring.
Hyrule was a small distance ahead of him by the time Legend was ready, and he smirked to himself as he watched the traveler, an idea forming in his head. Legend cracked his knuckles, then suddenly bolted forwards, freezing a path as he ran and quickly catching up to the other boy.
“See you on the other side!” he called behind him, and he heard Hyrule let out an indignant noise, the sound of his boots slapping against the water alerting him to the fact that the traveler was trying to catch up. Legend smirked, and flicked his wrist, slightly curving the ice and making it easier for him to gain speed as he charged across it.
Hyrule was fast though, and soon caught up, then passed him, hair flying in the wind as they raced towards the opposite shore. He didn’t waste his breath on words, merely shooting Legend a cheeky grin as he shot past, and Legend adjusted his cap with a competitive scowl.
He wished he could safely use his Pegasus boots on the ice as he watched Hyrule pull even further ahead, but he’d quickly slip out of control, even with his snowshoe ring.
But Legend was still fast without his boots and managed to put on a burst of speed, quickly pulling up next to the traveler.
Hyrule let out a breathless laugh, and Legend grinned back as they ran, sunlight sparkling off ice and water alike. He and the traveler were neck-and-neck as they raced, and Legend felt his annoyance at the day so far fade with every step he took, keeping pace with Hyrule as they raced across a likely-poisonous lake together.
It’d been too long since he’d goofed off like this.
The shore drew nearer and nearer, Hyrule and Legend both sprinting as fast they could, and Legend was sure that Hyrule was just barely going to beat him —
— Until a scaly green hand shot out of the water, grabbing Hyrule by the ankle and pulling him into the lake.
Legend’s happiness evaporated as Hyrule cried out in surprise, his yell cut off as he was dragged under. Legend jumped forwards and reached out for him mere seconds too late, catching sight of the fear in Hyrule’s eyes before he was lost to his sight in the murk.
“Traveler!” Legend shouted, voice cracking with panic, “Link!”
The water didn’t so much as ripple.
Legend stared for a only a couple more seconds, mind whirling, then he shoved his ice rod into his pack as he bit back a curse.
Hyrule couldn’t swim. Hyrule couldn’t swim and even if he could, some kind of monster had dragged him deep into likely-poisonous water, nullifying the power of his boots and very likely currently trying to eat him.
And Legend could easily save him with the magic in his bones.
Legend hesitated at the thought, looking at the oddly-colored water. He didn’t know what it would do to him if he transformed in its depths, what effects it might have on him if he swam around and breathed it in.
But Hyrule was down there.
Legend looked at the murky water one last time as he drew his sword, then took a deep breath and dove in without further hesitation.
The water slipped around him like a slick of oil, the familiar magic of his tail twisting around his legs as soon as he was submerged. Legend took the few moments while it did its job to look around, squinting as he searched for Hyrule, but saw no sign of him.
Legend’s legs finished painfully merging into a powerful cerulean tail, courtesy of the item he’d picked up all those years ago that had become as much apart of him as his regular magic. He shook out his fins, and finally saw something thrashing nearby. Swimming rapidly towards it, Legend spotted Hyrule struggling with a scaled creature of some kind, his face panicked as he held his breath.
Legend growled and prepared to strike at the monster, but then he took a deep breath.
And it burned.
The water was like fire the moment it filtered through his gills, sending flames searing all throughout his chest.
Legend gasped, but that only made it worse, more of the oily water pulled into his system, the taste of it sickening. He barely felt like he’d taken a breath, and each consecutive one felt worse then the last, stinging needles of ice spreading through his veins as he struggled to breathe.
Ah. Right. Poison water.
Which he was now breathing in, in no small volume.
He coughed, starting to feel sick, but then he heard a hiss and Legend was reminded he wasn’t the only thing in the lake. He managed to swing his sword at the monster despite the ache spreading through his muscles, and it screeched, slipping away with Hyrule still in its grasp.
Legend chased after it, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest and the burning of his lungs, squinting through the murk.
He could barely see anything, surprising since his transformation usually granted him much clearer underwater vision. But despite the gloom and barely-there streams of sunlight filtering through the water, Legend finally caught sight of two glowing eyes, and he couldn’t help but return the hiss the creature sent towards him.
It was hard to fully make out, but he could just barely see green scales and red fins, glowing eyes and grasping claws that were still clinging to Hyrule, the traveler struggling weakly in their clutches as he tried desperately to escape.
A Zora. The corrupted version that lived in his and Hyrule’s lands.
...Obviously a long way from home, considering they were in Four’s era.
Legend swung his sword as the Zora abruptly released Hyrule and charged at him, eyes blazing. A shrill screech gurgled outwards, and Legend pinned his webbed ears back at the noise.
Claws slashed at his face and Legend reeled backwards, but he was satisfied to see a cut on the Zora’s chest. Black blood billowed through the water from both this and his earlier strike, and Legend was careful to avoid it as it spread, the dark cloud as black as ink.
This water was bad enough on its own— infected monster blood was the last thing he needed.
As if to remind him what he was swimming in, a sickening feeling abruptly swept through Legend, and he breathed in a shallow gasp. The taste of the water was all in his mouth, he could feel it and smell it and taste it and it was awful and Legend had to fight back the urge to be sick.
He gritted his teeth as his vision wavered a bit, coughing and fighting past the heaviness sinking into his limbs. Every breath he took he felt worse, every bit of water that rushed through his gills making his head grow thicker and limbs like lead.
If he was doing so badly, he could only imagine the state Hyrule was in, and hoped the traveler had managed to hold his breath so far.
If he hadn’t...
Legend shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that. He needed to finish this.
Now.
The Zora screeched, and Legend watched as it streaked towards him, green scales blending into the water. Legend twisted away from it as it lunged, swinging his sword around, but claws gouged into his side even as his weapon struck the monster.
His side screamed in pain as his muscles ached, his lungs were on fire, but Legend threw himself forwards anyway, plunging his sword right into the middle of the Zora.
The monster let out an earsplitting keening noise, thrashing to get away from Legend’s sword, but he held tight until its thrashing slowed, then stopped. The beast abruptly fell limp, beginning to sink before it exploded into purplish dust.
Legend didn’t stick around to watch, darting for where he could see Hyrule struggling to reach the surface.
Hyrule saw him approach and his eyes went wide, eyes darting over his tail and scales, webbed hands and gills. He tried to back away, but Legend held out a pleading hand towards him.
“It’s me,” Legend warbled, ignoring how it hurt to talk, and Hyrule stared at him another few moments, gaze softening as recognition lit up in his eyes.
Then he clutched at his throat, bubbles trailing up from his lips.
Legend didn’t hesitate any longer, noting the blood in the water wafting from Hyrule’s ankle. He slung the traveler’s arm over his shoulders, and Hyrule didn’t resist, clinging to his arm rather tightly, and he began to swim for the surface. The Zora had dragged them deep, nearly to the bottom, and it was quite a ways upwards to go.
Legend’s tail seemed unusually heavy as he swam, and he found himself slowing considerably, struggling to focus on his goal.
The sunlight above began to smear, a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears, and Legend desperately pumped his tail, fighting to get him and Hyrule out of the horrible water. But his tail had gone numb, and the ache of his muscles and the fire in his veins and throat and side and everywhere were too much.
He wasn’t going to make it.
Legend gritted his teeth, and put all his remaining energy into giving Hyrule one last desperate shove towards the surface, feeling a spark of hope as Hyrule’s head appeared to breach.
Then he felt himself begin to sink, too weak to keep himself going.
Legend looked through half-lidded eyes at the blood he knew was his, wafting around his tail and shimmering in the weak sunlight. Even the smallest of breaths hurt, lungs and gills aching with fire, and Legend‘s eyes slipped closed, despite how he resisted.
He didn’t want to die like this, or at all, really... but he was content that he’d at least saved Hyrule from a similar fate.
At least he won’t drown... Legend thought as pain and darkness overwhelmed him, and his world disappeared into shadow.
59 notes · View notes
etherealily · 2 days
Text
𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.
Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.
This one is loooong.
Part 1 : Whiplash
Part 2 : 9 Lives
Part 3 : Blessed
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).
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Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.
Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.
But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.
"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.
"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"
"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"
"What?"
"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.
"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"
"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"
That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"
"You're scarily good at this."
"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.
"Can you just fucking drive, please?"
You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.
The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.
You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.
"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.
"What?"
"It's not just us."
No, no, no, no.
"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.
"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."
"Why?"
"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."
That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.
"Wait, just-"
"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."
"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"
"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."
Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.
"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.
The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.
And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.
"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.
"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."
Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.
"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."
That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.
"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."
His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.
"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"
You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.
"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."
You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.
In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.
"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."
He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.
Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.
Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.
"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.
The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.
"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"
Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.
"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."
"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.
With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."
You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.
"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.
"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."
"What he does?"
"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"
He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."
Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.
"So, you've taken psychology."
His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.
"Yeah."
"How come?"
"Always been interested in how it works."
"Can you read minds?"
"Essentially."
"Read mine."
"I... don't know you well enough."
"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."
Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.
Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.
"How's the food?"
Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?
"Oh, great, I really like it."
Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."
Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.
"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.
"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"
"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."
The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."
"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.
"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"
"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."
Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?
Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."
You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.
"So you and Nate are friends?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.
"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."
Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.
"That's a new one."
You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.
"You think he's hot?"
"What?"
"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"
"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."
Your phone buzzed.
'I really didn't know they'd be here.'
'Shut up.'
'Ur doing great.'
'I said shut up.'
'Lol.'
"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"
You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.
"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."
"Aaron."
Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."
"No, I'm not a cheerleader."
He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."
"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."
"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."
THAT escalated fast.
"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."
"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.
Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.
Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"
Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.
"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."
"Shame. She's a knockout."
Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.
"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"
"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.
"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."
What. The. Fuck.
"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."
"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.
"Nate."
"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"
"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.
Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."
"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."
"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"
"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"
Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.
Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.
Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.
Okay. Phew.
And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.
FUCKING CHRIST.
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The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.
You knew that because you'd been keeping track.
The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?
But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.
And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.
Wait, no, scratch that.
Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.
"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.
He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.
But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.
He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.
That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?
Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?
"I'm so fucking sorry."
Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.
"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.
"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.
"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.
He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"
'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.
"Nate-"
"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.
SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.
"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"
"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"
"Nate, I'm just-"
"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"
"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"
"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"
"Nate-"
"FUCKING SAY IT!"
You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.
It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.
"Nate."
"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"
"Fine, he's an asshole!"
He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."
"You're not apologizing?"
"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."
Deliberately obtuse, just like always.
Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.
"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.
'That's normal', his look said.
"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.
It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.
"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.
"No."
Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.
"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."
"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."
He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.
You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.
He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.
Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.
The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.
You stood in front of the mirror.
The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.
You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.
Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.
At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.
Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.
Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.
When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.
"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."
His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.
Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.
Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.
"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.
You're one to talk.
"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.
You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.
He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."
Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.
He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.
What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.
"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.
Like a bull craves the muleta.
Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."
"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.
"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"
He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.
"Okay."
"So say something, damn it."
"About what?"
"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.
"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."
He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"
"Yes."
"Then I will."
You nodded. "'Kay."
"Tell me about Queen."
"Look, man, I don't know-"
"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.
"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."
"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.
"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."
"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.
The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.
"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.
He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."
"Okay."
"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."
"A blanket?"
"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"
"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."
"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."
You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."
"It's late."
You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"
Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.
He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."
"I'm not spending the night, Nate."
"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.
"Nate, I'm not staying over!"
"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."
It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.
"Nate!"
"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"
"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."
"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."
What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.
Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.
"What?"
"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.
"You're fucked up."
"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"
"Don't fucking call me that."
He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.
"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."
"I thought you fixed it."
"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."
"My family's expecting me home."
He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"
"No." As if.
"Where do they think you are?"
Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.
"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."
His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"
"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"
"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."
"He wasn't a perv."
"I'm a guy. I can tell."
Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.
You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"
"I care too much."
You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."
"Then don't think the thought."
"You're staying."
"Like hell I am."
He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"
He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.
"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"
"Alexis."
"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"
"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"
"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.
"Is that what you think girls talk like?"
"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."
"Misogynist."
"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."
Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.
"That's not the point-"
"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."
"What?"
"That hurts, sweetie."
"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.
"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.
════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════
"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."
You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."
"Really?"
You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.
"Yeah, why not?"
"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."
"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."
"Pass. Hard. Pass."
"Why?"
"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"
"Alright, shut up."
"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."
"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."
"God, then you must think I'm hideous."
He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."
"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."
"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."
"Uh... pass."
"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.
"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."
The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"
"We weren't in a restaurant."
"Where were you guys?"
"He took me to a club or something."
Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."
You nodded. "Yup."
"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."
"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."
He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."
It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."
"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."
"History?"
"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."
You rolled your eyes and he smiled.
"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"
"What?"
"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."
See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.
"Okay."
"You should get to sleep. It's two."
"What will you do?"
"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.
Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."
"Yeah. I got that now."
"You gotta stop drinking, man."
He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.
════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════
When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.
You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.
So fucking yay. Good riddance.
And the next day, Monday, you realized something.
School had never been so fucking fun.
Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.
No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.
...
Ha.
So gullible.
----
Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.
Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.
Maybe that was his allure.
Hurting you then comforting you.
Making you cry then wiping the tears away.
But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.
The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.
And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.
════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════
You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.
Flight or flight was fucking useless.
But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.
The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?
You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.
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tommyohnosworld · 1 day
Text
no because the things i would do to give a girl hicky’s everywhere
“does my baby need me somewhere, hm?”
“aw, so polite for mommy, letting mommy play with you like this.”
“so good for me, asking for more, but where darling? where do you want more?”
“here? no, you couldn’t possibly want my mouth just sucking away at your neck.”
“what about here? right under your ear, where i can feel your breathing quicken? someone likes that, doesn’t she?”
“your skin looks divine, sweet girl. my marks all over you.. god. do you know how soaked you make me, baby?”
“ah, ah, what did we say about biting our lip? that’s right, we don’t do that. why don’t we do that? that’s right, good girl, mommy wants to hear you. so let go..”
“your moans are gorgeous, fuck. so loud for me, especially when i bite you here.”
“aw, baby you’re dripping! why didn’t you tell me? i guess mommy missed it in between listening to all of your “please’s” and “more’s” hm?”
“well, i guess i can suck here too, because my girl wants it so much.”
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enzenwriting · 11 hours
Text
7 days- without a week (5.8k words)
Jake sim x reader. #childhood friend to stranger #angst
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Unfortunately, you’re stuck on a cliche “childhood best friend turned into crush” :( - but can you help it? It’s Jake Sim we’re talking about here.
You literally grew up with this silly boy- from nursery school to now- last year of your university. Despite having different interest and class majors, you both got in the same university and have the time to see each other in between. (How? You’ll never know🤷‍♀️)
Your crush in question is quite the entertainment amongst your friends. Not that you’re obnoxious with your gestures/feeling, but it’s no secret to anyone that you like Jake.
Jake has basketball practice after school? You take ice cream for him and his friends when you pass by the school store!
Jake’s favourite football and basketball team game is airing? yeah you’re watching that with Jake.
(And Jake brings your favourite snacks and cuddles too<3)
Your friends says you’re absolutely down bad for the boy, but you’d like to think you’re just affectionate in nature - it’s not like you don’t show affection towards your own friends too.
“Let me guess, your MBTI is an F?” - Jungwon first time meeting you. “No, I’m pre-T, cu-T-” y/n … shut up please
Anyway.
It’s not like Jake doesn’t return the affection half of the time? Man is touchy. Arms around your shoulders, biting your shoulder when he can’t win an argument with you and sharing food? (not that you mind…. You really don’t…. please continue…… forever)
“That’s because we’re best friends” He tells Sunghoon with a tsk when Hoon gets tired of third wheeling. The eyerollll he gets from Hoon every time fr is enough to say stfu.
The guys just want to *bonk* him. Wake up Sim!
You realise this cycle had been as what it had always been since you realise your feelings but you know enough not to push the boundaries between the two of you to make it awkward and destroy you friendship
So today isn’t really any different except Jake gets benched for a day because he wouldn’t shut up about fishing instead of practising. This is never good because Jake Sim is PASSIONATE about his hobbies and sports.
The team also has an important game in a couple of weeks so wasting this time on the bench very counterproductive.
You do you your daily visit, ready to share your snacks with Jake and the rest of the boys and that’s when you notice his small frown and bitten bottom lips.
“Jakey, you okay? Want to talk somewhere? ” You test the water because a moody Jake Sim is a land mine sometimes. it takes talking to get him out from his danger zone
“No” you’re not fazed at his abrupt answer but it breaks your heart to see him like this. He mumbles something along of “I’m fine” but nonetheless your stubborn self didn’t believe him. His happiness was your happiness, after all.
“Come on Jakey, let’s go somewhere to talk-“
“Oooh baby Jakey, talk to your girlfriend to calm your ass down. Maybe you can cuddle it out right girlfriend?” One of the guy yells across the court, laughing boisterously.
“Come on guys, it’s not like that. We’re not dating” you respond, trying to dismay the guys not to provoke Jake further.
“Yet!” Heeseung winks. “You’ve got to try harder y/n!”
“I guess” you whispered, just wanting them to lose interest at both of your business and focus on cheering Jake at the very moment.
You sigh, look falling towards Jake when all too sudden, you feel his fingers arms around your forearm, quietly dragging you out of the court and a couple of room away from the place.
“What was that bout?” he exclaimed, voice barely above whispered, a slight growl evident in his deep voice.
“What are you talking bout?” you raised your brow, tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie nervously as you feel the tension between the two of you.
“Don’t act dumb y/n. You know what you were doing with all the girlfriend talk and trying to be more than what we are”
“Is it that bad to try? I care about you as friend too. My intentions aren’t all motivated by trying to be more than that.” Your attempt to explain yourself was futile when Jake interupts you
“What fuck y/n? You know I hate it when you talk about trying to be more than my friend!”
“I didn’t start it! I didn’t even mean just that too! I’m trying to make you feel better-“
“Still!!” He exclaimed and you can see the frustration in his expressions. “You ran with it and you’re motivating them”
“I just thought… I thought it would shut them up”
“Well you thought wrong” Jake ran his hand through his hair in frustration, backing away from you. “You have no idea how it feels to have your friend and strangers constantly nagging you to do and what not to do!”
“Jakey, you should just accept poor y/n’s feelings! don’t reject her so much! You two are definitely more than friends!!” He mimicked comments you’ve heard many times from others too. His voice was getting deeper as words kept coming out. His fists were clenching every second. The image of the golden puppy boy was gone. “I’ms tired of it, y/n!” he yelled.
“I’m sick and tired of you constantly forcing me to act like a couple!” You held your breath, trying to stay strong at Jake’s eyes starring straight into yours coldly. His finger poking, pointing towards you. “It’s so fucking annoying to have your own best friend push and whine every single day of your life. No matter how many times I fucking turn you down as gently as possible but your stubborn self couldn’t see how annoying this whole thing is for me. I call you best friend every day for heaven sakes!”
You felt your chest tighten with every passing second, you felt like you were bout to burst. Second after seconds, Jake felt very unfamiliar and the situation felt like a nightmare. Not until the following words woke you up in this reality and shattered your remaining resolve
“I don’t like you like that and I never fucking will. I mean it y/n”
Without a second wasted, you slipped out of Jake’s presence and jogged of the stairs, trying to keep your tears in. You felt like your heart had been crushed into pieces. A heart break without the love.
⠀ ׄ  ۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃 ۪ ׄ
an/ scream for part 2!!!! because I just broke my own heart with this🤣💔🫵 . Sorry I got too carried away but Jake was VERY mean on this wtf!!!
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justatalkingface · 3 days
Note
New leaks are out
Izuku loses One for All. The one thing he wanted in life was to be a hero, and we all know Horikoshi wouldn’t let him be one without a Quirk. He got One for All for a year and change and then it just gets taken away from him.
It’s so mean-spirited
*siiiiigh*
This shit. This shit is why I'm reluctant to catch up.
Worst thing is, this has been broadcasted as coming for awhile, because that MHA movie? Hero Rising, or whatever, the one where Izuku hands over OFA? If you believe (random shit I found on the internet) (which... admittedly, seems sus, I'm not sure of the validity) that was apparenlty supposed to be the original ending.
(Never mind that Bakugou only came into prominence after MHA got rolling, so unless he was forking it over to... I don't know, Shigaraki, or Uraraka, or Shoto (... my god, imagine the look on Endeavor's face if his anti-All Might child gained All Might's power and became his defacto heir, that'd be amazing) or something, that's already a different ending than the 'original' ending.)
That said, that rumor seems pretty damn validated now, doesn't it? I really don't get why Hori seems to hate his own character so damn much, because the first couple of chapters he seemed to like him well enough; the narrative respected him, he made sense, there was a steady build up of confidence and ability... and then he just... lost all interest, and just seemed to include him more and more grudgingly every time he showed up.
Considering how often the main character had to show up, it really feels like Hori built quite a grudge over the years. And between how damn hard Izuku has been side lined in every possible way, and how much Bakugou is being thrown into the spotlight, this really isn't surprising, all things considered.
A good deal of manga like to end with 'main character is brought down to normal', and honestly I've never liked it; I can only think of one where it was really done well, where I liked the ending (the main character never wanted it in the first place, he always wanted to be normal), and even in setting it only works because shonen manga in general love the 'secret world hidden from the rest of society' bit, so they can 'retire' gracefully to being a normal person without any issues (beyond probable PTSD), but in MHA they can't even do that, because there isn't a hidden world; Izuku is world famous, and without powers I'd honestly expect some random psycho to revenge kill him to get some fame, like that Ending guy.
(...I hate that that doesn't seem impossible still?)
Moreover, big part of that kind of build up is that the character has grown up, and doesn't need the super powers any more, to save the world from the world ending threat, to live the chunnibyo dream of being special instead of being part of society, but being a hero is a job, a career he can do for most of his life and make money in. The super police are still needed, because as far as I can tell, the overarching problems haven't been resolved at all. Just like how Naruto ended up, status quo is god, and the normal that was once terrible and to be fought against is good and just.
And, of course, he's just going to be happy about it, too, I know he is. That's how this kind of thing goes. He's going to be happy about losing everything he's always wanted, even though his friends (which he only got from being heroes) are still going to be heroes, even though Bakugou is almost certainly going to be number one at this point (speaking of which; whatever happened to the 'this is how I became the greatest hero' bit? Let me guess, he'll be referred to that somewhere, and that'll be it.)
He's going to be happy and content with what he was allowed to have (and even though he'll never be able to truly realize it, it is allowed, it's that Hori will allow him this much), and will never dream of wanting anything more. Just like an abused spouse in a truly fucked up marriage that has accepted that this is the 'best' they're going to ever get.
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hey-august · 9 hours
Note
ANGRY BUGGY I’m screaming I’m giggling I’m kicking my feet.
Being a crew member never really made sense for you, I mean there’s no reason you can think of why he would want you to join his crew. You’re not very talented like the others and you really only ever clean, but you guess that’s reason enough if they just needed a maid, and you’re more than happy having somewhere to sleep at night.
You don’t notice the longing longs and stolen glances, too busy trying to earn your keep on a ship your thankful to have been given a home on. Paying no mind to “accidental” touches or brushing up against you, after all it can get pretty crowded and you’re all working in close quarters. Nothing seems off when you catch him watching you clean, he’s in charge and must be making sure you’re doing your job. You have no reason to think the Captain even knows your name, let alone thinks about you late at night.
Only that changes when he comes back to the ship, drunk and angry after a failed outing. He sees you dusting? He thinks? Not really sure he doesn’t pay much attention to the actual work your doing, but he does see /you/. You give him a half hearted smile to try and avoid confrontation with your clearly upset Captain. Only for him to knock whatever your doing out of your hands and pin your back to the wall. You look surprised and he’s not sure if your fucking with him or just oblivious, you /must/ have noticed how much better he treats you than the other crew, right? That you have to have seen the way he watches you work and how his eyes drift across your body? The only thing Captain Buggy is sure of is that he need to make sure you know, tonight.
Anooooonnnnnn, I'm SO SORRY I kept this for so long.
It's just so wonderful and I wanted to add to it. Time and motivation were working against me, but HERE WE ARE. Finally spending time with our angry clown. 🩷
This was unplanned and got out of hand, like usual.
WC: ~800 Warnings: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, mentions of drinking, insertion sex, angry sex, sorta dubcon (in my head, they both want this), profanity
Nothing - nothing - is going right and it's infuriating. Fucking frustrating. Yeah, he can be a piece of shit, a freak, a loser, but this is fucking ridiculous.
Months of planning and Buggy had nothing to show for it. Sleepless nights spent studying maps, gathering intel, spreading rumors - all for shit and empty hands.
And the moment he lays eyes on you, the anger surges through the liquor burning his insides. Months of planning on how to get closer to you, to get you under him, also resulted in fucking nothing.
You don't notice the way Buggy stares at you like a hungry wolf. You apologize for being in the way when he purposefully brushes his hand against your ass. You didn't question it when you were scheduled to clean his room. You didn't even bat a fucking eye when you walked in the first day and he was laying in bed. Sure he had underwear on, but seriously? You couldn't tell he was coming on to you?
And it's happening again. You're cleaning. Dusting the shit on his shelves. You manage to squeak out some bullshit apology when Buggy slams the door open. Just a little more and then you'd be out of his way.
But that's not where Buggy wants you.
Buggy keeps his eyes open when he kisses you. He wants to see you. The shocked expression on your face is both rewarding and aggravating.
"You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you," Buggy spits out.
"I don't- what-"
Your words are cut off by an aggressive kiss. Rough and overwhelming. His tongue invading your mouth, his teeth nipping your lips, bruising you.
Breaking the kiss, Buggy presses his forehead against yours. Heavy breaths fill the room. He's finally touching you. He finally has you in his hands. Your taste in his mouth. He should be happy. But no, this success doesn't clear the irritation running through his veins.
"Pull down your pants and turn around."
Buggy waits, wanting to see if you'd listen. And if you didn't, if you left... well whatever. Fuck you, then. And fuck him, ending up with nothing again.
There's barely enough time for his deprecating thoughts to depart before you undress just enough for him to see how aroused you are.
You want this as badly as he does. So why did you make him wait this long?
Rough hands spin your around. "Keep still," Buggy demands while he works to free his aching cock with one hand.
He hisses when bobs and rests against your ass. Your perfect ass. Fuck, he ruts against you, rubbing his erection on you like he's dreamed so many times before.
"Please," you whimper, legs shaking with each tantalizing movement.
The audacity. The fucking audacity you have.
"Please? Please? You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this and you want me to hurry?"
You shake your head but any words that you might say are chased away by pleasure and pain. By Buggy shoving himself in your needy body and his teeth digging into your shoulder. He bites harder and groans as your body clenches and squeezes around him.
His hips are pressed tightly against you and he starts thrusting, hardly pulling out while continuing to bully his way deeper.
Your gasps and moans are a reward. Your white-knuckle grip on the shelves is encouragement. Your body accepting his brutal thrusts is heaven. But Buggy wants more. He deserves more.
A hand in your hair yanks your head back, turning you into a fountain spilling filthy sounds.
Not enough.
His fingers find their way in your mouth and down your throat. You choke and sputter around the intrusion but make no move to pull away. Each gag has your body clenching around him harder. 
A touch on Buggy’s wrist guides his other hand down between your legs. He’s sure you’d say “please” again in that adorably pitiful voice if you weren’t letting him fingerfuck your mouth.
“You fucking- fuck,” Buggy huffs, his hand moving frantically to bring you over the edge before he falls over himself. “You like this, don’t you?”
The high-pitched whine that you manage to push out around his fingers is Buggy’s undoing.
“You better fucking come on me now,” Buggy hisses while his thrusts become erratic and his hands start to shake.
Your legs shake when you catch up, your orgasm ripping through your body. His cock pulses and throbs as he fucks through your orgasms, drops of cum escaping every time he pulls back.
Eventually, heavy breaths fill the room again. The air is hot. It smells of sex, sweat, and alcohol.
“Do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence.
The soft tone in your voice is too much. The little flicker of anger in Buggy’s body is gone. He rests his head on your shoulder in defeat and nods. He does feel better. 
“Will you stay?” he asks quietly, lips pressed against your damp skin. He wraps his arms around your torso and holds you tightly, not ready to end this moment.
You nod and the next morning finds you both asleep in bed, utterly worn out and completely content.
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hexenmond · 14 hours
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dividers in fanfiction: experimenting with screen readers
So I wrote up this tutorial on pretty AND accessible dividers for fanfiction (focusing on AO3, but this goes for every piece of text on the internet that has a divider somewhere). I confidently proclaimed that using an hr element instead of some random characters is the better way to do it, to accommodate screen reader users – but I had never actually tried it for myself.
I wanted to remedy that and took some time to experiment with a screen reader (Orca, because that was easiest for me to get my hands on). Setting that up was actually a bit of a hassle, so I captured the audio output to post it here, and you can hear for yourself what I'm talking about without having to bother with technology and then you can make up your mind about how you want to handle dividers in your own works.
I picked three pieces of fanfiction on AO3 that I knew off the top of my head had characters as dividers in them (because I love them! so much!!), selected a bit of text with the divider in the middle, and had Orca read it out to me. Here are the results:
Example #1: simple dreams of comfort by softestpunk
I tried this one first, and it confirmed my guess: the screen reader simply reads out the characters as it can't tell what they're supposed to mean.
Example #2: Pretending! Unless… by Aria_Lerendeair
This was up next, same thing in principle. Here I also found out that empty paragraphs are a little bit unwieldy if I wanted Orca to read the selected text. And also I was starting to get used to the voice by now.
Example #3: Tower and Rose by Moorishflower
Same thing, Orca reads "plusplusplus". As a bonus I discovered what happens when there is a full stop missing (did you catch it?). And this was also when I realised that I really could get used to that objectively awful reading voice. Like, if my other options were more tiring, or I had none? I'd probably try different readers, and I'd spend a lot of time tweaking the settings (there are SO MANY SETTINGS), and then I'd enjoy my favourite fics anyway.
And how does an actual hr divider get read?
Orca by default reads it as "separator". Which is not all that great either in my opinion, BUT I could teach it to just read it as a three second pause. Or make it say "skip" or whatever I like. That would be fairly easy to do, but teaching it how to read every random string of characters – not so much.
So, bottom line? It's less problematic than I thought. Sure, "asteriskasteriskasterisk" in the middle of a story doesn't sound nice. But I could get used to that meaning "separator". Brains are flexible like that. It does increase cognitive load a little, but not that badly I think. (Cognitive load is useful a concept, I'll write more about that soon.)
If you have published on AO3 and you'd like to convert to hr elements in your works (those can also be styled to look very nice!), I wrote a step by step tutorial on how to safely and easily replace the random characters with hr elements. If you use it, let me know how it worked for you! Constructive criticism very welcome 🙃
Oh and: I actually made a cool tool that lets you push sliders around instead of fiddling with code! Go ahead and design some lovely dividers for yourself. No CSS skills required, just copypaste the resulting code into your work skin!
@softest-punk, @aria-lerendeair, @moorishflower:
I hope this does not make you feel put on the spot (not at all my intention), but maybe rather a little flattered as I really did know those three fics sufficiently well to remember they had different strings of text as dividers. It's not quite the same as someone making fanart but… right now I'm just loads better at coding than at drawing. So, do with this possibly newfound knowledge as you will! And also whenever you will, I imagine you've all JUST come out the other end of Dreamling Week, phew… I am writing this with much love for you and your fics 🥰🥰🥰
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sissylittlefeather · 20 hours
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Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 2
A/N: Another chapter for Elvis and Dove! I'm really loving writing a happy couple 😂. Those of you who know me know I usually torture my characters for at least a decade before I let them be happy, but not this time! Also, just a quick note about the nickname: that is a real endearment in Mvskoke, but I spelled it phonetically instead of in the right alphabet. Anyway, I hope you guys love them!
Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this gets a little sexy, erection, reference to masturbation, fingering, dry humping, orgasms, ejaculation, also racism and period-appropriate use of the word "Indian"
Word count: ~2.7k
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He kisses her again as the sun rises on them. And he's right. This is only the beginning.
******
Elvis and Dove spend the next few weeks in a haze of young love. They have to be careful about where they go and when because his fans seem to always find them, but for the most part they make a way. They spend as much time together as possible and at the end of each night he kisses her in his car outside of the ladies boarding house she has a room in. Every kiss builds in intensity and they struggle to stop themselves from taking it further. His hands roam over her body, squeezing her hips and even venturing to her breasts. She kisses his neck and nibbles his earlobes and they both moan and whimper so much it sounds like they're in pain. And they are every time they have to stop.
Elvis is convinced she's the woman he wants for his first time, but still he wants to wait. He's not sure what exactly he's waiting for, but he knows it's too soon now.
Dove is dying to give herself to him but she lives in constant fear that the second she does he'll lose interest. So instead, she gently pushes his hands away and he moves them to a more acceptable place and tells her goodnight, breathing heavily and dreaming of the day he'll be able to touch her however he wants.
Every time she makes it to her room, she collapses on the bed, her body buzzing and pulsing on the edge of something she can't identify. Elvis is left in the drivers seat with a raging erection, trying to calm himself down before he has to get out of the car. Several times he rushes straight to his bedroom to lay on his bed and pump himself to a release, quietly moaning her name as he makes a mess on his hand. He's running out of self control, but he doesn't want to ruin what he has with Dove. She matters too much.
One night they're finding it particularly difficult to stop. They've said goodnight no less than four times, but they're still glued together, his hand slowly creeping up her thigh under her skirt, his dick so hard it hurts. She whimpers and backs away.
"Elvis, wait." He pulls his hand back and flexes it, groaning. "We have to stop."
His breath is hot against her as he tries to calm down. He kisses her shoulder and exhales deeply.
"I know, Dovey, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Maybe we just... should?" Her heart skips when she says it. But she's started to wonder how much longer she can make him wait.
"No... no I want to wait until..." For the first time it dawns on him. He knows what he's waiting for. "You need to meet my parents."
"What?" The conversation took a turn she did not expect. In his mind, though, he can't do what he wants to do, ask her what he wants to ask her, until she's met his parents.
"You need to meet Mama and Daddy. Come to dinner tomorrow night."
"O-okay." The prospect is a daunting one for her. She's not sure what they expect of his girlfriends, but she's guessing it's not her. Hopefully, they're not too off-put by her background. "Elvis?"
He kisses her neck gently, trying not to start anything again, but desperate to feel her.
"Yes, Dovey?" She whimpers as he moves down to her collarbone.
"Is it gonna be a problem... that I'm... not white?" He backs up and looks at her sternly.
"No. My mama's people have Cherokee somewhere way back. But if it is, they'll hear from me about it." She nods nervously and he takes her face in his hands. "They'll love you. You have nothing to worry about."
He kisses her deeply and passionately and she presses her body against his. The heat comes back and before they know it they're both breathless and running their hands everywhere again.
"I need to get out of this car."
"Yes you do." He kisses her again.
"I really really do." More kissing.
"Mhmm." She pulls away from him slowly, peeling her body off of his, laughing softly.
"I'll see you tomorrow., Jumbee." She rubs her nose on his. He blinks and laughs.
"What did you call me?"
"Oh! I'm sorry. It's a term of endearment in my language. Like sweetie or honey. It's what my mom calls my dad. I'm sorry, I won't-"
"No, I love it." He nuzzles his nose on hers and then kisses her again.
Reluctantly, she pulls away and slides across the seat to the door, pushing it open to walk up to her front porch. Before she does, though, she leans down to the window.
"Goodnight, Jumbee." He smiles softly.
"G'night, Dovey." She turns and skips up to the front door and he watches. Then he leans his head back against the seat, touching himself gently and whimpering. This is definitely a night that he'll be sneaking into his room for some alone time.
******
The next night, Elvis pulls up to Graceland with Dove on his front seat. Up until now, she hasn't seen where he lives.
"Woah." Her mouth drops and he laughs.
"I forget how impressive it is if you've never seen it."
"This is beautiful. You didn't tell me you lived in a place like this." He can tell the house makes her nervous.
"We didn't always. This is new. Come on."
"Jumbee, I don't know." He turns to her on the front seat and puts his hand on her cheek.
"Dovey, baby, it's gonna be fine. You trust me?" She looks into his eyes and nods. He kisses her softly and then pushes his forehead into hers. "Come on."
He gets out of the car and runs around to the passenger side to let her out. She stands up out of the car and he puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside. In the foyer, she smiles awkwardly as he proudly introduces her to his parents.
"Mama, Daddy, this is Dove Morningstar."
"It's nice to meet you both." Gladys and Vernon smile and shake her hand genially. Gladys speaks first.
"Dove. That's an interesting name."
"Oh, it's actually a nickname. My real name is Eleanor, but they've called me Dove since I was a kid."
"Well, it's lovely."
"Thank you, ma'am." Vernon finally speaks up.
"And Morningstar. You're Indian?"
"Yes, sir. Seminole."
"Hmm." He grunts and Dove can't tell if he's disapproves or if he's just quiet. Elvis steps in.
"Dovey is a singer. You should hear her. She sings better than me." He puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close to him. Gladys smiles at the two of them, glad to see her boy so happy.
"I'd love to hear you sometime, honey. Maybe after dinner we can gather 'round the piano." Dove nods, smiling a little more naturally now. "Speaking of dinner, it's ready. Let's go sit."
Gladys turns and they follow her into the dining room. The rest of the evening passes in polite conversation. Elvis excitedly tells the story of how they met, leaving out all the kissing that happened on the rooftop. Dove answers questions about her family and her upbringing and listens attentively to the stories that the Presleys share. Overall, things go very well.
After dinner, they gather around the piano singing together. Gladys is indeed impressed by Dove's voice and her knowledge of gospel songs. Eventually, Dove sits on the bench next to Elvis and puts her hands on the keys. Elvis didn't even know she played, but he watches her in awe as she gently presses the keys, singing a hymn in her Native language. When she finishes, he leans over and kisses her softly, unable to stop himself.
"That was beautiful, Dovey."
"Thanks, Jumbee." She whispers it but they're close enough that Gladys catches her nickname for him.
"That's sweet. What's it mean?" Dove looks up at her but before she can answer, Elvis cuts in.
"It's an endearment in her language. She used it for me and it just kinda stuck." He smiles proudly again and Vernon sighs discontentedly.
"Son, can I talk with you for a moment?"
"Sure, Daddy." He gestures and Elvis follows him into the corner. Dove plays another song on the piano and Gladys sings along. At the end, she stops her.
"Honey, how do you know all these gospel songs?"
"Oh. My daddy is a preacher."
"An Indian preacher?"
"Yes ma'am." Gladys beams. She's proud of her son for finding such a good girl. "Play another one, baby."
Dove goes into another song and the ladies harmonize while the men talk.
"You're not serious about this girl, Elvis." Elvis looks at him in shock.
"I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You know you have an image to uphold now."
"Yeah, and? I know the Colonel wants me single, but I can't stay that way forever."
"It's not just that, son. This kind of... interracial relationship... it's not gonna be good."
"Interracial relationship?!"
"She's not white, son."
"And you think that's a problem?"
"I think it just might be more trouble than she's worth." Elvis raises his voice and catches the attention of both women.
"You listen to me, Daddy. I don't care what you or anybody else has to say about it. She is worth it and I am serious about her."
"Now, son, there's no need-"
"No, there is a need! I love her and nothing you say is going to change it!" He stops and looks around the silent room. Dove has stopped playing the piano. She whispers to herself.
"He loves me?" Gladys responds quietly.
"That's what I heard." She puts her hands on Dove's shoulders protectively, glaring at Vernon. Elvis crosses the room and stands her up to face him.
"Yes. I love you, Dovey and I don't care who knows it." A warm smile spreads across her face.
"I love you too, Elvis." He leans down and kisses her a little more passionately than he should in front of his parents.
"Come on, Vernon. Let's get to bed and leave these two young people to each other." Gladys goes to usher him out of the room.
"Goodnight, Mama." Elvis says it without taking his eyes off of Dove.
"You two don't stay up too late."
"Yes ma'am."
"It was lovely to meet you, Dove."
"You too, Mrs. Presley." She knows it's probably rude, but she can't look away from Elvis. Gladys smiles again and walks from the room with Vernon in tow. Once his parents are gone, Elvis pulls Dove into a deep kiss, pressing his body against hers. He whispers against her lips.
"Come up to my room." He turns and takes her hand, leading her up the stairs. Once they get to his room, Dove swallows nervously. "Dovey, it's okay. Tonight's not the night."
She smiles and he pulls her into another kiss. The kiss heats up and he walks her backwards to the bed. He lays down with her, running his hand across her stomach and down to her hip. She throws her leg over him and rolls her hips into his. He pulls back, breathing heavily.
"Okay, slow down."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay, baby. I know it's hard to stop." A lightbulb goes off for him and he smiles. "Honey, what if we... did something... but not... that..."
"Like what?" He smiles slyly.
"Do you trust me?"
"Always, Jumbee." He moves his hand down to her knee, trying to stop himself from trembling. His hand slides slowly up her thigh to her hip under her skirt. Then, he walks his fingers over to her center. She whimpers.
"Elvis, what are you doing?"
"Just let me touch you. I promise we won't go any further." She nods. He fumbles a little but eventually gets his fingers under the edge of her panties, moving them down to the place where she didn't even know she was aching for him.
"Oh..." She moans softly as his finger finds her center and moves around the edges of her entrance. "Tell me if it hurts or doesn't feel good..."
She whimpers again as he carefully slides one finger inside her.
"Oh, God." He looks at her carefully.
"Good?"
"Yes..." He starts to move his finger in and out and she moans. He smiles and then leans in, kissing her neck gently. He's talked to the guys enough to know what to do next. His thumb makes its way carefully to her sensitive bud, making circles. Her back arches and she whimpers.
"Is that good, baby?" She makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a grunt and he smiles again. He seems to be on the right track.
Dove is overwhelmed with the sensation of his hand on her. Something is building inside her and though she doesn't know what it is, she wants it to continue to completion. In efforts to reach whatever the goal is, she grinds into him, inadvertently rubbing against his cock, which is already hard just with what he's doing. He whines and rubs himself against her again. His mouth moves back up to hers and he kisses her deeply, rolling into her a little harder. She feels his hardness against her hip and it turns her on even more as she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him in close to her.
"Oh, Elvis, don't stop!" He pumps his finger into her harder and harder as he grinds against her over and over. The friction is pushing his foreskin back and forth over his dick and he feels the pressure building.
"Mmm... Dove, baby, it feels so good."
"Yes! Yes!" He moves his thumb faster over her clit, nibbling on her earlobe and rubbing against her hip passionately. The heat between them grows as the intensity of their actions increases. His fingers move deftly against her as his hips do the same. They both feel like they're about to burst with desire and love for each other. And then they do.
"God, yes, baby, fuck!"
"Elvis!" She moans his name loudly as she climaxes hard against his hand, pulsing around his finger just as he ruts against her one last time, shuddering and whimpering, filling his pants with ropes of cum. She rides out the high of her orgasm completely oblivious to the fact that he's doing the exact same thing. He realizes what happened, though and pulls away quickly.
"Wait? Where are you going?"
"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."
"What? Why?" She looks down at his crotch and notices the wet spot on his pants. "What happened?"
"I-I-I I finished..."
"Oh..." She giggles and he rolls his eyes, embarrassed. He tries to move away from her again and she grabs him. "No, it's okay Jumbee. That was really... it's okay..."
He looks up at her shyly.
"You really don't mind?"
"No, baby. I'm glad it was good for you too."
"Yeah?"
"Yes." She leans into him and kisses him deeply. He wraps her in his arms.
"I love you, Dovey. So much."
"I love you too, Jumbee." He nuzzles into the side of her face and kisses her cheek.
"You wanna stay? I can hold you all night." She considers what it would mean for her to stay all night with him. Then she looks into his eyes. He is her future. Why would she ever leave?
"Yes, please." A genuine smile spreads across his face and he jumps out of bed, going to his drawers. He grabs a set of pajamas and brings it over to the bed.
"You take the top and I'll take the bottoms. Then we can snuggle up and sleep all night just you and me." He pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek.
They both change into the set of pajamas and then crawl into bed. He cuddles up behind her and buries his face in her hair.
"I'm so glad I met you."
"Me too, Jumbee. Me too."
They drift off to sleep together, Elvis's mind racing with plans of how and when to ask and visions of her in a white dress walking down the aisle towards him.
******
Until next time!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley
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maingh0st · 16 hours
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I always noticed that Warner guy is always compared to Cardan. Thoughts?
hm, wild. they live in very different categories of characters in my mind haha. I guess on a surface level, they occupy similar spaces narratively: they start out as a more antagonizing figure to the MC, but you can tell that their obsession with the MC is shot-through with attraction. and they eventually become the I Worship My Wife kind of MMCs, which is fun but not exactly uncommon in fiction.
but while Cardan is an individual schoolyard bully who represents something very personal to Jude (he is a living reminder that she does not belong in Elfhame), Warner is an active representative of an oppressive global order that has made Juliette's and countless others' lives Very Bad. the power dynamic is really different, and has to be handled a lot more sensitively. and (in my opinion) I'm... not sure it is.
I think my biggest gripe with Warner as a character (and I am really not trying to start discourse here—people enjoy what they enjoy, whatever; I thought he was hot when I was a teen, too) is that his actions are almost always presented very romantically, and the narrative rarely tells us he's wrong. Juliette is the silly little woman who just doesn't understand, but thank goodness the love interest knows that she does like him, she is attracted to him, and she does want the power he offers her. silly girl, he knows you better than you know yourself! this is not uncommon in fiction; authors seem to think that a male character knowing better than a female character and forcing her to "become powerful" is somehow girlboss feminism (SJM and the "it's your choice" nonsense 🔪)
Warner also demonstrates a frankly concerning level of obsession with Juliette (maybe another reason people try to compare him to Cardan?), going so far as to steal and memorize sections of Juliette's diary, which she feels very violated by (they're her most private, intimate thoughts from a very dark time in her life! holy shit buddy who gave you the right!). but rather than the narrative being like "wow isn't this scary and weird and a total violation of her privacy?" he gets rewarded for Knowing Her So Well and ultimately gets to be her malewife.
Cardan, on the other hand, is wrong. we know he's wrong! the author knows he's wrong! and while the narrative shows us reasons that he is the way he is, it does not use those reasons to justify him. it makes him more understandable, but he still has to apologize and change. Jude is not treated as silly for disliking and mistrusting him; she's absolutely in the right! and Cardan has to realize that he has misunderstood her and both underestimated her (not realizing just how much of a threat she is) and overestimated her (thinking that nothing really hurts her bc she's so tough).
also, Cardan is more fun. there, I said it! Warner is melodramatic and purple proses @ the reader about what a Conflicted Guy he is. Cardan is a slutty little dude with crushing self-confidence issues who gets tricked into the Number One Job He Did Not Want and decides to cope with it by being Very Silly, and then somewhere along the way realizes that he can actually do a good job at it. he oopsies his way into being Elfhame's best king. who's doing it like him?
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blackandblueraven · 8 months
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My friend gave me for my birthday a heat changing mug... so I made him pins with his favourite character for his birthday.
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ganondoodle · 9 months
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i often really do feel like an .. unwanted part of the fandom, i dont draw beautiful landscapes, i have unpopular but strong opinions im constantly annoying about and rarely change, dont like/dont draw the pretty young popular twinks and hot gurls to fanboi over nor do i turn characters into one, the opposite moreso, draw only one ship no ones heard of really, got little energy to interact with the few people that are nice to me and send me asks so it probably looks like im ignoring everyone and unfortunately but still rarely get so stressed i get overwhelmed and emotional about pehaps seemingly minor things and spiral almost into a breakdown feeling super embarrassed about it afterwards but the damage is already done and i look like a freak or agressive weirdo
#ganondoodles talks#also probably sounds like self pity#but this feeling hits everytime i see a super popular artist be the popular cool artist#i am a little weird i know that and thats not somethign bad i think#but the internet never gets to see that much of me#i tend to write posts when i am at my worst bc it has to go somewhere#so the image it tells people is that im a weirdly strong opiniod freak that gets breakdowns over nothing#i also dont feel like im otherwise -cool tm- enough to balance that out#i dont think my art is as stylized or as inventive as others nor am i cool to interact with bc idk how to be cool to interact with#i feel double bad when i misstepped with someone i used to talk to bc of something stupid ... or just dont know what i did wrong#im guessing its especially when i am in that spiraling state of mind where i really am not myself tbh#it still feels very bad bc i feel like i can never make it up to anyone again#sorry i acted like a jerk my brain was exploding in emotions in a desperate attempt to deal with something idk how to deal with-#-and made me not act like myself but now i feel really dumb about it#doesnt sound like a good excuse#... i want to thank those that do stick with me#even if i acted strange sometimes- even if i disappointed sometimes- even when i couldnt keep a promise#there are little things that still make me angry at myself#like that one time i asked in the tags whod read as long as the end of them and if someone did shoudl send me an ask so id draw a lil thing#and i got two#and i kept trying to remeber oh shit i need to do that and forgetting again/not having energy for it in a loop#i still feel like a jerk about it but now its probably too late#i wish i could answer all asks i get but man my energy for that is always rock bottom#no matter how much i enjoy the ask#and i love getting asks!!!#im sorry :((
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spider-man-2o99 · 1 year
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“why are you always only ever talking about, like, spider-man 2099’s childhood and mental health issues instead of posting panels of him Biting People” uh. because... spider-man 2099 the comic book... also does this.?
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skunkes · 16 days
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im not going to lie to u i hate change and have always been incapable of having goals on where to live within my own state much less a completely different one but 26 years of this horrible weather that only gets worse has me semi considering moving out of texas. Somewhat.
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