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#Which will just make parting all the more difficult
utterlyotterlyx · 3 days
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Sweet Creature
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.
Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)
Word count - 8.4k (oops)
Based on this ask
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It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.
And fast.
Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.
"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.
"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."
Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.
Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.
The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.
A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.
"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.
Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."
It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.
Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.
But you had never needed saving, and you never would.
Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.
A celestial witch. In the flesh.
Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.
"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."
"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."
A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."
If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.
Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.
In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.
You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.
"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.
There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.
"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"
Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.
"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"
Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.
Then a laugh.
Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.
A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.
It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.
The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.
Azriel gasped.
"Mate."
Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"
Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.
"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.
"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.
Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."
The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.
Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.
"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."
The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.
Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.
And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.
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In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.
It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.
You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.
There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.
Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.
Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.
Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.
Talk to me.
Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.
If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.
In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.
It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.
Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.
A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.
"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."
Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.
The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.
Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."
Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.
"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."
"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.
"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."
"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."
Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."
"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"
Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."
Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.
Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?
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Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.
If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.
Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.
Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.
That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.
"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.
It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.
Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"
Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"
Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."
In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.
"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.
Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."
Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."
That fucking name.
You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."
The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.
Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.
"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."
Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.
"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."
Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"
Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."
Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.
In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.
Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.
"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."
Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."
If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.
Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.
Fuck.
It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.
Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.
Rhys. I didn't know.
I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.
Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.
Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."
Stop talking.
"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."
Stop fucking talking.
"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."
Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.
Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"
Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"
It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."
Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.
Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.
Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.
"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"
Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."
"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."
It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.
The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.
The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.
"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."
Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."
"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."
Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.
Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.
How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?
You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.
"How did you find me?"
A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"
You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.
Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.
You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."
"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."
The world stopped moving.
"What?"
Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."
Break the bond.
It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."
Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"
"It's what's best for us, y/n."
No. No, no, no.
"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."
You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.
Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.
"You never let me in."
Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.
You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.
Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?
"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."
His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.
"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."
Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."
All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.
A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."
Let her in. Feel her.
The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.
"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."
Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.
As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.
Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.
It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.
When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.
The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.
It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.
"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"
Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."
Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."
Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.
Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"
"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.
Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?
All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.
"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."
"You have?"
Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."
"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."
Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."
"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."
"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."
Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."
The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"
If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.
Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.
Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.
Utterly magical. Soul consuming.
Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.
"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."
"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."
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Authors Note
Hey besties!
I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo
Taglist
@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb
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uzurakis · 2 days
Text
THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!
featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.
n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. anw, requests are open! <3
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GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.
in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”
as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.
once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."
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ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.
lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."
as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.
"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”
with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.
in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.
"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."
"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”
you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.
you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.
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NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.
nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."
without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.
you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."
as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.
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@uzurakis
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i am confused
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Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀
Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.
***Spoilers below the cut!!***
So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????
Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)
But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????
Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)
Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???
Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?
I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL
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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 2 days
Text
Isolation
Part two of the craving you series (part 1)
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Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - you settle into your new job while Wanda undos your life
Warnings - manipulation, dark Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, breaking and entering, theft, bribery, catnapping, Wanda calls herself mommy, not proofread again srry
Words - 1.8k
A/n - this took me ages to write srry, I still think part one is better tbh
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When you first got the job as Wanda's personal assistant you expected it to be strange like the meeting you'd had in her office prior, the one in which she'd has you begging on your knees. Much to your surprise however Wanda was more professional than ever, keeping to herself and only talking about work matters. Little did you know this was because she was too busy eyeing you up to make conversation.The job itself wasn't much too difficult either perhaps even easier than your original job and for the same wage. Your days consisted of planning phone calls, picking up mail, getting her lunch and coffees, taking notes in meetings, arranging taxis, responding to emails and then collapsing in to bed with your darling cats.
Wanda watched on eagerly as you slipped into a blissful false sense of security over the weeks working. Enjoying every second especially since she got to gaze at you every second of the day. The way you did your hair each morning, how you rolled around your wheeled chair had you been sat too long, the same pen you always fiddled with in meetings, how your nose scrunched when your were confused, the cuteness of your little yawns when you were tired. It was all the little quirks she hadn't got to see in you before that she grew to love now.
Her obsession love for you only grew the more time you'd spent with her. Your little smiles and nervous way of talking had her fighting back blush. Wanda was always ever so excited for you to go out on some pointless errand so she could take a look in your bag, one time even being lucky enough to find your treasured journal. Her favourite page, which she took photos of so she could re read it anytime, read as; 'my boss Wanda has been more kind than I could ever wish for, with giving me a new job instead of just throwing me out onto the streets. I wish she could know how grateful I am to still be employed as she could have easily had rid of me. I've always had such a good gut feeling about her as a boss and it's finally been proved correct.
I'd never admit this aloud as I don't think it's appropriate for work but I think Wanda is possibly one of the most pretty women I've ever met, she always has a radiant smile when she looks at me joined with such cute freckles.' Oh if only you knew how Wanda swooned when she read that entry.
Slowly though this new found closeness was not enough for Wanda, she felt as if your gratefulness was dwindling and the time you spent together was hardly enough for what she craved. For what she needed.
Wanda needed a new way to make you come to her to make you rely on her. She needed something you loved, she just had to think of what. That's when she figured it out, she was watching you through her computer one night as you lay in bed peacefully sleeping beside your cats. She knew how much you loved them, how lost you'd be without them.
Her plan was simple, tell you she was going out for lunch with a friend when really she was heading over to your flat to take Marlo and Nixie. Arriving at your flat she saw the front door unlocked and tutted to herself, how silly you really were lucky she was looking out for you or someone could have just waltzed right into your home. Stepping through the front door she was overwhelmed with a euphoric feeling of being surrounded by you and your things. Briefly forgetting about the cats she went around your room, going through your wardrobe, admiring your jewellery and lying down in your bed. But all that wasn't enough for Wanda she wanted a little souvenir from her trip and that's exactly what she got. Going back into your wardrobe she carefully went through your underwear drawers deciding to take a matching red lacey set with rhinestoned buckle, you wouldn't need them anyway the only person you should be trying to impressing was her.
After successfully stifling your underwear she moved onto getting the cats. She'd brought her own little carriers for them, Wanda was no monster of course she'd never harm the small animals you held so close she'd just keep them safe and away from you for a while. Marlo was easy enough to convince to get in the carrier being friendly and easy going almost just like you however Nixie was another story hissing and trying to claw at Wanda anytime she tried to pick her up. Lucky for her shed planned this having overheard you discussing with a coworker several weeks ago about how Nixie didn't tolerate strangers unless she had some catnip. Needless to say she'd prepared for this event. Smiling to herself as she poured the catnip into the carrier and trapping the unsuspecting Nixie inside.
The next day at work Wanda hid her smirk well when she saw you shuffle in with puffy bloodshot eyes with big dark circles underneath, deciding to feign concern instead.
"Oh darling, what's up? You can tell me anything." A comforting smile on her face makes you sure you can talk to her about the cats.
"My.. my cats went missing and no one can find them." Your voice is hoarse from crying as you speak and more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.
"That's no good at all sweet girl." She stands from behind her desk walking over and engulfing you into a strong hug. "If there's anything I can do to help you at this difficult time don't hesitate to let me know." She tells you in a warm voice as she pulls your head closer into her chest making it hard for you not to become flustered.
"Thanks, thank you miss Maximoff." Your stumble through your reply while burying yourself into her strong body.
A few days later and your cats still haven't returned and you find yourself further falling into despair.
That's when you find a letter in your house. One that pushes you over the edge. The one you never wanted to see. An eviction notice. It felt like the life you'd fought so hard for, one you'd dreamed of since childhood was being torn apart before your eyes. As if God was punishing you for some unforgivable sin.
Wanda watched on eagerly as she saw you find the eviction note in your pile of post, a sick grin contorting on her face at the sight of your misery, at the knowledge she'd be the one to bring you back up. The one to heal you. The one you'd grow to adore, worship and crave as she did you.
Of course she was at fault for that letter after having heavily bribed your landlord to get rid of you. At first he was much opposed claiming you to be 'one of his best tenants' and how you never missed rent but after seeing the cash being offered to evict you he couldn't help himself. Wanda knew he'd break easily after all Money really is the root of all evil.
When she saw you sobbing at the kitchen table, shaking hands clutching the eviction notice she wished she could comfort you and tell you it'd all be okay. To hold you tight like she did not a few days ago. Wiping the tears from your delicate face, once you were hers you'd never feel this kind of pain again. Your suffering was only temporary but still it broke her heart to see you so down. Obviously she'd never regret what she'd done. It was all for you.
When you were next in work you felt and were sure you looked like hell. All your energy had been spent trying to find somewhere new to stay but all properties nearby were so expensive or just boxes. Your regular floral dresses had been replaced with knit sweaters and plain black trousers as if this was your autumn, the beginning of your end. When you saw Wanda it didn't help the way you felt when she appeared more put together than usual, her suits crisper somehow and jaw sharper as if while your life fell apart hers had blossomed.
"Darling, you look ill has something happened?" She asks with a practised act of sympathy, she already knew exactly what had happened after all she'd orchestrated the undoing of your life.
"My landlord evicted me for no reason and-.. and-.." You felt yourself becoming choked up as you struggled to tell Wanda what had happened. She picked up on your feelings almost as if in tune with your mind and quickly pulled you into her before beginning to stroke up and down your back in comforting patterns.
"Its okay, I'm here darling. Nothing bad will happen just tell mommy what's wrong." Your eyebrows raised at what she called herself but for some inane reason decided against questioning her.
"And.. I cant find anywhere to stay and my-.. m' cats are still missing and I'm gonna be homeless." She knew youd begun crying when she could feel damp on her blouse where your head lay. Wanda pulled your head back to face her and stroked across your cheeks in such a gentle fashion that you felt you legs may give out beneath you.
"Well you could always.. nevermind it wouldn't be appropriate." She says with pause to look down at your face. "Oh screw it. I can't stand to see you go homeless over some stupid eviction, y/n if you wanted you could stay in my home until you find somewhere permanent." What Wanda hadn't quite anticipated was the way your eyes lit up at the suggestion, she thought you'd have needed much more convincing than you did.
"I.. if your sure it wouldn't be a bother."
"Sweet girl you could never bother me."
That night Wanda took you over to her house and gave you a tour. It was the biggest and fanciest place you'd ever been. More things existed than you thought one person could need. She had everything from pools to inside tennis courts, acres full of forest land to a sauna. You finally understood what it must feel like to be rich. Wanda claimed her guest rooms were under renovation so you'd have to share her room for now. When you accepted sleeping next to her she was so ecstatic she could barely hide it behind the mask of sympathy anymore.
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likeumeanit9497 · 2 days
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yale pt. 2 | c.s |
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chris sturniolo x fem!reader
read part one here!
summary: to commit or not to commit; what will chris and y/n decide? and how will they prove to one another that their mutual decision was the right one?
warnings: smut, oral (m/f receiving), hand stuff (m/f), p in v, unprotected sex (BAD), more fluff than i usually write, 18+
notes: again i'm sorry ab the wait but part two is finally finished! it's a bit longer than my past one shots (almost 6000 words eek) because there's a lottttt of fluff before the smut. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!
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Two out of my three final exams were finished, and I was about ready to throw in the towel on my last one of the week. It was Thursday, and tomorrow was my Biology II final, which had been the one that had been stressing me out the most. As soon as I had got back to my small one-bedroom apartment that day, I had buried my nose in my textbooks in an attempt at cramming some last-minute miracle study session into my day.
That was around 3:00, and as I walked into my kitchen to make myself my fourth cup of coffee for the day, the clock on my stove read 9:26. I wanted to cry from exhaustion. Yale finals were no joke, and I had to do well on all of my exams in order to keep my scholarship for next year. On top of the stress caused by all of that, I was having an even more difficult time because my brain had been consumed by something else. Every moment of every day — whether I was trying to get some rest at night or trying to focus on answering the questions correctly on an exam — I was thinking about the last time I had seen Chris.
It had been less than a week, but my mind had replayed every moment of our time together so many times that it had begun feeling like a dream. That, in addition to the lack of proper rest I had been getting, had made me genuinely begin to question whether or not I had imagined everything that he had said before I ran out on him.
I hadn’t heard anything from Chris since then, which really wasn’t that uncommon. We typically only texted when I was back in Boston and we could meet up, and he knew that I would be busy with my finals this week and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But regardless of how usual the lack of communication was, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a mutual tension between us even from miles away; and the shortage of interactions between us just felt like confirmation of that.
Since the last time we spoke, I had felt nearly every emotion possible regarding the situation. Guilty, happy, sad, angry, hurt, disappointed, excited, and confused. Very, very confused. There had been so many times where, as I was studying, or showering, or walking to class, I became completely consumed by the urge to text him; sometimes with the intention of telling him that I feel the same way about him as he does about me, other times my intentions were to cuss him out for making the one thing that was easy in my life so complicated. But every time I opened my phone and began typing out a message to him, I got ahold of myself and would hurriedly delete the paragraph.
Frustrated and lost in my own mind once again, I leaned onto the kitchen counter and rested my forehead against my crossed arms. The last thing that I wanted to do was go back to my desk and continue studying, but I knew that I needed to spend at least a few more hours on it if I wanted to secure at least a 90%. But my eyes were beginning to grow heavy, and the cool sensation that came from leaning on my counter was helping me calm down. Maybe I could stay here and collect my thoughts for just a few more minutes…
Four loud knocks at my front door caused my eyes to shoot open. I felt disoriented as I took a moment to take in my surroundings, glancing quickly at the clock I realized that I must have somehow dozed off in my position at the counter. Three more knocks rumbled through my small apartment, these ones more urgent than the last. As my brain finally woke up completely, I was hit with a mini wave of rage. Brad was in the same Biology II class as I was. He must be trying to study for the exam super last minute, and when he realized that he hadn’t even started taking study notes, he decided to show up unannounced at my place to get his hands on mine. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.
I stormed toward my front door, beside myself in fury and stress. As I unlocked the door and began turning the handle, I opened my mouth to begin my crazed rant.
“Brad I swear to God I’m not-” My mouth clamped shut and I froze once the door was completely open and the identity of the person on the other side was shown.
“Hi.” Was all he said, his voice tentative and wavering slightly. His bright blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, his slouched shoulders were covered in a light dusting of snow, and held by his hands in the space between us was a bouquet of sunflowers.
“Chris.” His name fell breathlessly from my lips, and I immediately walked toward him and embraced him in a relieving hug. I felt both of our bodies relax as soon as they connected, and we stood in my doorway for what could have been hours; both of us taking a moment to relish in the comfort that came from us finally seeing one another. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, pulling back from him and taking a good look at his beautiful face. He shifted on his feet before responding, “I just needed to see you.”
His body language showed that he was feeling incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to do everything I could to reassure him, but not yet; it was too soon. So instead, I guided him into my apartment and closed the door behind us.
“So,” I began as he stood awkwardly in my kitchen, “Have you just decided to start carrying those around as some sort of fashion statement or what?” I gestured towards the flowers still gripped firmly in his hand. He blinked quickly before looking down at them as if he had forgotten they were there, and nervously giggled. “No. Uh, I brought these for you?” His voice rose at the end of his sentence, making it sound like a question and I let out a small laugh before gently removing them from his grasp. “I was joking, thank you for these. Sunflowers are my favourite.” I replied before turning my back to him to search through my kitchen cabinets for a vase. “I know they are.” He said in a quiet voice, and I turned back to look at him quickly.
“How’d you know that?” I kept my tone light, partially because I felt like it might make him more comfortable and partially to keep my nerves at bay. “Your lock screen on your phone. It’s of you and your friends in a sunflower field. I asked you about the picture that first time we met when you went to put my number in your phone and you told me that they were your all-time favourite flower, even though you thought they were a bit cliche.” He explained all of this to me while looking down at his feet, and I felt a ripple of shock travel down my spine. How did he remember that seemingly mundane part of our very first interaction, eight months ago?
I cleared my throat as I felt my emotions begin to get the best of me, and finally found a vase hidden deep in one of my cabinets. “Well I do love them,” I finally responded once I regained control over myself, “And look at how beautiful they are! The brighten up my entire kitchen.” I showed him the bouquet, now tucked into their vase, and felt my heart flutter at their vibrancy. “Thank you so much, Chris. I mean it.” I walked over to where he was standing beside my kitchen island, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I playfully brushed my nose against his a few times, before planting a light kiss on his lips. “You have a very good memory.” I added, before moving my lips to his jaw, down to his neck; leaving wet thank-you kisses along the way. His breath hitched once I reached his collarbone, where I spent extra time suckling his delicate skin.
I brought a hand down to his jeans, where I palmed at his semi-hard member. His hands stayed still at his sides, but I could feel his increasing pulse against my lips as I moved them painfully slow back up to his. When my lips made it back to his, I pressed my body against him in an attempt at deepening our movements. His hands finally moved to grab onto my waist, giving me a moment of satisfaction, before he used his new grip to pull me away slightly. “Y/n, wait,” He started, his gaze fixed on me, “I’ve really been needing to talk about last weekend.” My stomach sunk as I began to feel the too-familiar pit of anxiety that had been haunting me for days grow once more. Not wanting him to pick up on how terrified I was to have this conversation, I planted a faux smile on my face and gave him a quick nod. “Me too. Let’s sit.” I replied before walking over to my couch.
“So…” I began once we were both seated on the couch facing each other. Even though I had spent days mulling over every detail of what I might possibly say to Chris once this inevitable conversation happened, I really had no idea how to go about this. And by the unusual silence and bouncing leg coming from Chris’s side of the couch, it was pretty evident that he didn’t know how to either.
“I thought we had agreed that this conversation wouldn’t happen until after I had written all of my finals.” I finally got the courage to speak first, before immediately noticing that my tone came across pretty passive aggressive. “I just mean — sorry, Chris. I’ve just been really stressed out.” I attempted to correct my first sentence once I noticed that his face was riddled with anxiety. Placing a soft hand on his forearm, I continued, “I just mean I’ve been really needing to talk to you, too.” A nervous smile flashed across his face at my words, and I watched as he took a deep breath. “You have?” His tone sounded unsure, and I nodded firmly. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” I added, slightly embarrassed by my own admission. “Neither have I.” He added, turning his body slightly so he can face me better.
“I know I told you that I would wait until after you were finished your exams, and I really tried. But I’ve been going crazy these past few days and I really couldn’t wait anymore. I’m sorry.” He confessed, and I scooted closer to his place on the couch. “Don’t be. Trust me, I’ve felt so crazy these past few days too. I’ve gone through every possible emotion whenever I thought about the whole situation, it’s like I can’t get control over my mind. It’s been hell.” I reassured him with the truth.
“Well, how are you feeling about the whole thing?” He asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of my answer. I allowed myself to contemplate for a few moments before answering, so that I could say the right thing. “Well, at first I was scared. It was just so out of the blue Chris, and my brain couldn’t process it all.” I watched him watch me as I spoke, “Then, I felt really angry. I was so mad that after all of this time you decided to drop that bomb of a confession right before I had to start my most stressful week of the year. That, along with the simple fact that I am in a relationship, no matter how toxic, and you went and made things even more complicated.” His gaze dropped to the dead space between us, clearly having a difficult time hearing how upset I had been.
“But,” His eyes met mine again as I continued, “I almost felt relieved? Like, it kind of felt like this was how it was always supposed to end up, if that makes sense. It was like some part of me knew that the universe was planning something like this to happen in a way, and that all of our sneaking around was just the build up.” I felt my heart in my throat as I spoke of feelings that I hadn’t even known I was feeling before; shocked by my own confession. By the expression on his face, I could tell that he was just as confused.
“Wait, what?” Said Chris, his eyes widening slightly. I stared back at him in silence, terrified that I might have said too much and gotten this whole thing wrong. Oh God, what if he came here to back out of what he had said last week? What if his jealousy had just overpowered him in the moment, and he was here to backtrack. Even more, what if he was here to end things between us completely? I began to feel myself panic at all of the thoughts flying through my head at rapid speed, before he finally spoke.
“Are you — are you saying that you might want this too?” Chris asked, his voice one of hesitant optimism. Immediately, I felt my initial wave of dread vanish and a new, almost excited anxiety take its place. I bent forward, resting my arms on my knees, and groaned into my hands at the feeling. “I…do.” I finally said, my voice muffled by the concealment of my face behind my fingers.
The room stayed silent for what felt like forever, my last words sat heavy in the air between us. I was so anxious I couldn’t bear to look anywhere, so I scrunched my eyes tightly shut and made every attempt at calming my nerves.
“Come here.”
Chris’s voice was so soft and calm — a refreshing contrast to the racing thoughts in my own mind — that it caused my eyes to snap open and fall on him. He still looked a bit nervous, but the genuine smile that shone across his face allowed me to release the deep breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. I scooted even closer to him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me. With my head tucked into his neck, I breathed him in; allowing my nervous system a moment to relax.
“We’re really doing this then?” I finally asked as he rubbed gentle circles on my back. He let out a soft chuckle. “Looks like it.” I pulled away from his embrace and brushed his hair out of his beautiful face. “I’m gonna have to end things with Brad tomorrow after our Biology final.” I sighed, dreading the inevitable conversation that was I was sure would be made more difficult by Brad and his disrespect. However, Chris’s pleased expression brought me some joy, because at the end of the day he was who I really wanted.
Feeling like I was on cloud nine, I wrapped my arms around Chris’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Right as my lips barely grazed his, however, he mumbled something and pulled back. “No,” he began, shaking his head firmly. “We gotta do this right. Things are different now and we’re not just sneaking around, so it feels wrong to just kiss you behind everyone’s back like we had to before. Take your exam, have a conversation with Brad, and then we can start from the beginning.”
My jaw physically dropped, shocked at the maturity of Chris’s words. I wish he wasn’t but I knew that he was right. Now that we were headed in the direction of something more serious, it would be so much more meaningful to wait until all of the wrinkles of our situation had been ironed out. I gave him a smile and nodded softly, letting him know that he was right.
“So, how did you get here?” I asked, stretching my arms behind my head to work the kinks out of my sore back. “Matt dropped me off. I had to offer to do the laundry for a full month for it though.” I laughed at his response, but was also touched by the idea as I knew that Chris despised laundry more than anything. “Jesus, no kidding, that’s a long drive just to turn right back around and go back to Boston.”
“Well, no. He should still be downstairs. I told him to wait outside for a while just in case things didn’t go so well up here.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly at this fact, but I understood what he meant. “Well, if you want you can tell him to head back and you can spend the night here. I was already planning on heading back home tomorrow night so I can just take you with me.” I offered, glancing quickly at him through my eyelashes as I did to gauge his reaction. Immediately, a smile flashed across his face and he shot up from the couch as if he had been hoping I would say that. “I’m down. Let me just run to his car and grab by duffel bag.” I laughed at his reaction, and the fact that he had clearly intended on staying the night if he played his cards right.
Before walking to the door, he leaned over my figure and planted a quick kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be right back. Maybe once I grab my stuff I can quiz you for your exam or some shit. Don’t want you to not be prepared tomorrow just because I’m here.” My heard fluttered from the sensation of his lips on my skin in combination with his thoughtful words, and I had to fight the urge to pull his face to mine. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
Once I finally made it back to my apartment, I slammed the front door shut and slid against it down to the floor. I ran my hands through my snow-covered hair as I tried to catch my breath and wrap my head around what I had just done.
I finally broke up with Brad.
As suspected, he didn’t take it well. To be honest, it had been a bad choice of mine to do it as we were walking towards the exit of the exam building, but I hadn’t expected him to break down into tears and get down on his knees in front of countless other students and professors, begging me to reconsider. I could still hear the echos of his wails as I literally ran away through the double exit doors of the building, and I continued to run as fast as I could until I reached the lobby of my apartment complex.
And now here I was, feeling everything all at once and trying to make sense of all that has happened over the past twenty four hours. As I mulled through everything, the sound of my shower turning on caught my attention. In all of my stress from writing my exam to breaking up with Brad, I had nearly forgotten what all of it was for.
Chris.
I stood up and slowly walked towards the bathroom. Putting my ear against the door, I smiled as I listened to him quietly sing along to a Ken Carson song playing from his phone as he showered. Checking the door knob, I realized that he had left it unlocked and I decided to enter the humid washroom. The room had already begun to fill up with steam, but I could still see Chris’s back through the glass shower door. He was facing away from me, and the music was loud so he clearly had no clue that I was there.
Quickly and quietly, I began to take off my clothes from the day; keeping my eyes on him the entire time to make sure he still hadn’t noticed my presence. Once fully unclothed, I took my hair out of my messy bun and began walking towards the shower. Standing at the glass now, I brought my knuckles against the cool surface and gently knocked.
At my knocking, Chris’s body jolted and he quickly turned his body to face me. When he saw that it was just me standing there, his body visibly relaxed and a smile crossed his lips. “Hey.” He said as his eyes travelled across my naked body. “Hey.” I returned as I opened the shower door and began climbing in. I stood in front of his naked figure, the stream of water from the shower head beginning to mist my hair.
“Did you talk to him?” Asked Chris, his eyes searching my face; clearly trying to gauge my expression. I tilted my head to the side and smirked slightly. “I did.” He continued to just stare, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. “I ended it.” I added, causing a smile to immediately cross his face. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” Chris asked as he brought his hands to my hips, pulling my body towards him directly under the shower head. Now getting completely rained on, I squeezed my eyes shut and chuckled. “What, you getting cold feet already kid?” I asked jokingly, opening my eyes to look at him and standing on my tip toes so that I could bring my face closer to his.
“No, obviously not, it’s just,” He paused when I brushed my wet lips against his softly, before whispering, “It’s just a bit scary.” I brought my hands to the back of his head, where I mindlessly twirled my fingers through his curls. “What’s scary?” My hushed tone now matched his as I spoke. “I’ve just never been in a relationship before, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I’m really really out of my realm here Y/n.” He confessed, his tone somber and his eyes fearful.
I grabbed my bottom lip with my teeth, completely understanding what he was saying but not wanting to unintentionally confirm his fears by agreeing. So instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him against me. After a moment of relishing in the feeling of his skin pressed firmly against mine, feeling our hearts beat as one, I spoke.
“Let me show you that you don’t need to be scared of anything.” I gazed up at him as he looked down at me, and after a short while he nodded his head. Rubbing his back delicately, I spoke. “Things aren’t going to be much different, you know,” I began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, “Sure we won’t be sneaking around,” More kisses along his shoulder, “And there will be a certain level of accountability and loyalty that wasn’t there before,” My mouth moved to his jaw, “But those are all good things because,” Finally, my lips were hovering in front of his, so close to touching that I could feel his anxious breath against them.
“They mean that I’m all yours.”
At that, Chris crashed his lips against mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue swirled against mine. I gasped as Chris suddenly pressed my back against the cool tiled wall where he continued to dominate my mouth. I felt his quickly growing member press against my hip, and reached forward to begin stroking it slowly. A soft moan fell from his mouth, and I began to move my hand up and down quicker along his hard shaft. He bucked his hips slightly at the sensation, and moved his lips to leave deep kisses along my neck, down to my nipples. He gave my left nipple one long drag with his tongue before engulfing the entire thing in his mouth. He sucked hard and bit tenderly on the tip of my nipple the way he knew I liked, and I couldn’t help but release a small whine at the building need in between my legs.
“Let me make you feel good.” Chris mumbled against my tit, grabbing my ass firmly with both hands. “Me first.” I replied, a smirk on my face with his cock still tight in my grasp. Slowly, I dropped to my knees on the shower floor and was face to face with his swollen cock. Gazing at me as water dripped down his entire body, Chris watched as I placed my lips around his red tip; swirling my tongue to lap up the salty pre cum that had begun to drip from his slit. I watched his erotic expressions as his body shuddered from the sensation, and slowly began bobbing my head up and down the length of his cock. I began pumping my hand along his last few inches that I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and had to stifle my own anticipatory moan from how turned on I had made myself just by knowing that it was my mouth that was allowing him to feel this pleasure.
Not being able to take the painfully aroused state I was in, I brought my free hand between my own legs; gently massaging my own clit to relieve just a bit of the tension. The immediate satisfaction caused me to moan on Chris’s cock, which in turn caused him to press his hand against the shower wall to support his weakened frame. As he watched me pleasure both of us, his jaw slacked and his eyes glazed over with pure lust. I continued to vigorously bob my head, though I was beginning to get distracted by my own heightened arousal as my fingers maintained their pressure on my swollen clit. As tears welled in my eyes I swallowed the entire length of his shaft and began deep throating him, watching his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his free hand moved to grab my hair.
“Fuck baby, I might cum.” His words came out gravelly through his bright pink lips, and I hummed in response as I continued to swirl my tongue around the base of his dick. Suddenly, Chris released a throaty moan before pulling his hips back and detaching my lips from his member with a pop. Instinctually, I tilted my head up and opened my mouth; sticking my tongue out with a slight smirk. I watched as Chris pumped his cock with his own hand a few times before his warm fluid coated my expectant face. I quickly swallowed the few drops that had landed in my mouth, and smiled softly up at Chris as he watched. He brought his thumb to my lower lip and swiped delicately; collecting a drop of his cum that had landed there before placing it on my tongue. Tauntingly, I closed my lips around his thumb and sucked it gently as his breath hitched.
He took his thumb out of my mouth and helped me to my feet. Wrapping an arm around the small of my back, he guided me directly under the stream of water before tilting my head back so that his seed could wash off of my face. After a moment, he pulled me back out of the water and pressed me into his chest. His hands travelled across my back and down to my ass, where he began massaging softly. As he massaged, the tips of his fingers grazed my slit from the back and I began to feel the urgent need to be touched. I nibbled at his skin and subconsciously arched my back in an attempt to give his hands better access to where I needed them most.
He ran a finger through my slick folds and my heart rate quickened against his chest. “You think you can manage to go again?” I breathed as he continued to tease me. I felt his body shift slightly as he chuckled. “Yup. Just give me a minute.” The words barely left his mouth before he dropped to his knees and backed my body up against the wall in one swift motion. Before I had a moment to process anything, his mouth connected to my bundle of nerves. To grant himself easier access, he grabbed my right leg and put it over his shoulder as I moaned out at the sensation that the new angle provided. His mouth moved rhythmically as his tongue swirled around my clit in the way that he knows drives me crazy, and I already began to feel the early whispers of an orgasm in my lower stomach.
After a few moments of bliss, my body was suddenly jolted into reality when he removed his lips from me and stood up. Keeping me pinned to the wall, he attacked my mouth with his own. Deep and carelessly, our lips moved in sync with one another as Chris simultaneously hooked my leg around his hip to press his body even closer to mine. Suddenly, our kiss was cut off by my open-mouthed gasp as Chris slammed his cock deep into my core. Without giving me a moment to adjust to his size, he began driving into me with quick strokes. I struggled to continue to stand — both because of the slippery shower and the velocity of his movements — so I dug my nails into his back for grip; sure to leave deep scratches by the time we were finished.
“Fuck Chris, you’re so big.” I moaned out, feeling my core stretch out with each of his thrusts. “Oh come on baby, you can take it.” His tone was mocking, but it came out breathless as he relentlessly pummelled into me.
His face was pressed against mine, and my view of his feverish gaze and tightened jaw was interrupted periodically only by his sloppy kisses along my jaw. As his pace began to grow more careless, my vision began to grow blurry from my approaching orgasm. “Chris, please keep going I’m so close.” I begged, fearful that his second orgasm would come quicker than my first.
He brought his hand to my throat and squeezed it delicately, his eyes on mine. “I’ll wait for you, princess. Want to cum with you.” His hand moved from my throat down to my clit, where he began rubbing it fiercely. The additional contact from him instantly sent a jolt of electricity down my spine, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was going to reach my climax. “C-chris, I’m — oh God I’m cumming.” I practically screamed as the wave of overwhelming pleasure hit me. As my walls pulsed erratically around his cock, Chris released a raspy moan — a clear indicator that he had also reached his own orgasm. His movements slowed tremendously as we both rode out our highs; both of our fluids and slurred profanities in harmony with one another.
Chris’s hips stopped moving completely as we both leaned our heads against the shower wall, catching our breath. His hand that had previously been on my clit was now resting on my inner thigh where it was thoughtlessly rubbing up and down my soft skin. The thick steam in the shower was making it even harder for me to catch my breath, so I turned the temperature down before stepping under the stream of water to begin cooling myself down. Chris followed suit, and squeezed some shampoo into his hand before lathering my hair with it. Humming at the relaxing feeling of his hands massaging my scalp, I leaned back against his firm chest.
“See, at least you know that part of our relationship didn’t change.” I said jokingly as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. “No, it definitely did.” He responded, and I froze. Once again I was worried that he had changed his mind; that maybe he thought the sex might start to be boring, or that sex with emotion was too sappy. Just as those insecurities began to rear their head, Chris’s eyes softened with a big smile as he pulled me towards him. “It got even better.” I felt my body relax in his arms at those words, and I beamed up at him. “I agree.” I pressed a soft kiss to his collar bone.
“Now let’s hurry up, I want to get back to Boston before it gets dark out.” I said as I hurriedly lathered by body with shower gel. Chris moved from his place under the shower head to give me space to wash off before exiting the shower. “Stay at mine tonight? We can watch Christmas movies!” He exclaimed as he grabbed a towel to dry off. I rolled my eyes with a smile. “You’re such a cornball. But unfortunately I think I might be too because that sounds great.” He giggled at this before poking his head back into the shower to plant a kiss on my nose. “I’m really happy we’re doing this.”
“Doing what? Getting excited over watching Christmas movies?” I asked with a chuckle. “No — well, yes. But no. I meant I’m — I’m really happy you’re all mine now.” His words made me melt a little inside, and I brought an affectionate hand to his jaw and brushed my thumb against it. I took a moment to really admire his perfect features — in awe of my current reality where a man as beautiful as him could feel the way he does about me— before responding, “Me too, Chris. I’m happy I’m all yours too.”
taglist:
@chrattstromboli @sncstur
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guwix · 3 days
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Is Caine human or is it AI?
I've seen people bring up this topic more than once. Also, Gooseworx replied to people that Caine is AI. Therefore, I want to sort everything out on the shelf, what we currently have.
Pilot
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Caine was demonstrated to us with human emotions, which is completely indistinguishable from the NPCs themselves (Candy Carrier Chaos!). And if we take the real existing facts about AI, it is because AI does not know how to: feel, experience emotions, understand the meaning of text and images, be aware of itself.
Let's take the same Moon, Sun and of course Bobble.
They have a completely different level compared to Caine.
Even if he created them, if he cannot understand the empathy of people, then why does it make it difficult to understand other characters "created by him". For example, Bobble, he doesn't understand his actions.
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AI has many advantages, but Caine has absolutely NO control over the situation, despite the fact that he is the "creator". Why would he need a "Watch" if all the information should be in his mind?
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At the same time, he tells us himself that he has many eyes, but at the same time, he was not aware of what happened to Kaufmo.
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I understand that the animated series is far from real life. But, in fact, AI cannot be insane. Also, Caine cannot emotionally feel "lonely". And all this tells us the opposite, that it is completely different from AI.
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If the director of "C&A" creates AI to help order in the Digital World, shouldn't the company come up with a name for the "administrator" itself? And according to Gooseworx, Caine came up with a name for himself.
It turns out that people "allowed" AI to run amok in the Digital World without fear of consequences? Strangely, Caine should have restrictions, but it looks exactly as if he is completely free.
It is not the first time that the creator answers us that Caine is not a person and he does not have the age given to him. But, isn't the fans' question a strong spoiler for the plot? If we were told "You'll have to wait and see", that would raise quite a few questions. That is, it would immediately be clear what Caine is like.
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You can also recall a video where a human body is transferred to a computer. Whether this was done for the sake of the fan, or intentionally, we have only to guess.
And one person had the most interesting question. Whether he is the boss, which we were told, we will have to wait and see. If Caine is an AI, then he cannot be the boss, we would have been told that he is another AI.
2:Candy Carrier Chaos!
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As an AI, he is "obliged" to know who is an NPC and who is a "human". Everything must be programmed for him. But, he doesn't know how to "distinguish" them.
Whether the situation is worth turning against him, he immediately avoids it. Although, he is not forced to run away, because for AI, he must be smart enough to come up with a sedative. But, Caine just comes up with an excuse that he needs to "drink some water." Genius.
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Since NPCs do not realize that they are characters of the computer world, they think that they are alive. If Caine is also presented as a God (and God is so-so with him), then what is the probability that Caine will think that he is an AI, for the entertainment of people? After all, the main characters do not remember everything from their current life (they only partially have upbringing).
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maidenvault · 2 days
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Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.
Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.
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He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.
I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.
Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.
The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.
For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.
But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.
But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.
No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.
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yuurei20 · 1 day
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Hello! I wanted to ask if it's ever mentioned what the duties for housewardens and/or vices are? If not, what are things that are likely to be their duties?
Hello hello!! Thank you so much for this question!
There does not seem to be any official list of housewarden/vice housewarden duties available and it can be difficult to tell the difference between position-dictated-responsibilities and things the characters do just because they want to--but we can try! :>
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Housewarden meetings are decidedly a housewarden/vice-housewarden duty, with Leona saying that even he can't get out of them.
Vil says that they are vital, as "they affect things campus-wide," and there seems to be voting, documentation-distributing and report-delivering related to them, all handled by the Housewardens.
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According to Leona vice-housewardens can be sent to attend these meetings in a housewarden's place, as we see Lilia do for Malleus.
Riddle says that "any self-respecting Housewarden should be capable of resolving his dorm members' problems" and Leona seems to agree, saying that looking out for the younger students is "all part of the housewarden job description."
This seems to include instructing the new students in how to wear their robes: when Vil realizes that Jack is struggling with how to do so properly his first question is, "What has your housewarden been teaching you?
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Another universal responsibility might be the welcoming party for new students that directly follows the orientation! Jamil, Trey and Vil all reference this party, with Cater losing a bet and having to take on Trey's duties of looking out for the new students during it.
In the first visual book Yana has a comment alluding to how it is undecided if Savanaclaw even has a welcoming party, however, so it is possible that this party is not a school-wide housewarden responsibility.
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Authorizing the use magic against intruders seems to be decisively a housewarden-only ability, and Lilia says that choosing the dorm's Halloween costumes has to be done by either the housewarden or vice-housewarden.
A slightly more grey area is the heading one of the school's management committees for its various events: Riddle, Azul and Vil all head different committees at different times (with Jade once serving as treasurer), but are those positions only open to Housewardens? It is unclear!
Similarly grey: Riddle says that every member of the Book-6 group has been trained as a first responder in the event of an emergency, but is that training limited to vice-housewardens and housewardens? Epel says that they need permission to leave campus, but is vice housewarden/housewarden approval enough, or does it need to come from Crowley?
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Memorizing student names may also be a housewarden responsibility: Jamil says he would like to do so (Kalim: "Do what he said!") but Jamil is not the best reference for typical vice-housewarden duties, as he keeps Scarabia running in addition to handling Kalim's personal matters.
Ignihyde students rankle at Idia revealing that he barely knows anyone's names after becoming housewarden, so it seems to be expected.
Lilia says that students need the housewarden's permission to reserve the dorm lounge for events like parties, but it is not specified if this is a school-wide rule or exclusive to Diasomnia.
Riddle cautions Kalim about not "acting the part" of Housewarden which, according to him and Vil, seems to be involve correcting poor behavior and being a model to other students. Riddle also mentions needing to attend orientation rehearsal, which may be exclusive to Housewardens (he mentions doing so to Trey, making it sound as though Trey with not be joining him).
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While Riddle and Azul have the additional responsibilities of enforcing the laws of the Queen of Hearts and running Mostro Lounge, those may be exclusive to Heartslabyul/Azul rather than school-wide, housewarden duties (Azul founded Mostro Lounge, which should mean it did not exist before he arrived and might cease to exist once he graduates, making it less so a housewarden responsibility than his personal project).
We learned in Cater's fourth birthday vignette that Heartslabyul's housewarden is also responsible for assigning the suits of cards on each student's face, and applying it for the first time.
(In the novel Ace says that Riddle decides dorm room assignments, too, but we do not know if this is exclusive to Heartslabyul, a school-wide rule or canon to the game at all.)
For vice-housewardens, they seem to have the responsibility of supervising the dorms in the event that a houswarden is unavailable.
Trey says that he can issue "a sleepover pass" as vice-housewarden (and we see him deny one to Cater), so it might be a campus-wide vice-housewarden duty rather than something exclusive to Heartslabyul.
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Other vice-housewarden duties seem specific to the dorm in question!
We see Trey assigning tasks and handling issues for Heartslabyul's unbirthday party and saying that his main priority is "keeping (his) housewarden from going berserk." Jade asks, "is it a vice housewarden's job to regulate his housewarden's emotions as well?"
Trey tells Jade that "a vice housewarden isn't the housewarden's servant," which is a sentiment that Floyd echoes in Book 4.
Azul has Jade create menus for Mostro Lounge, Riddle assigns him the task of keeping an eye on Floyd and Azul asks him to collect personal data about new students, but the above may be unique to Trey and Jade rather than vice-housewarden tasks that are performed in each dorm :>
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kittykattysstuff · 1 day
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Warning: Incest.
Gojo satoru x fem!reader
“Let’s get married”.
Satoru declared as soon as you both were left alone. And those three words changed your world completely.
Being the sister of ‘The Strongest’ was far more difficult than people would have thought. It was not glamorous, as all your friends used to think. Yes, Satoru-nii was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, and you had no complaints whatsoever about him. However, the rest of the Gojo clan wasn’t as perfect as they liked to show to the outside. No. Far from it. In reality, they were a bunch of conceited, hypocrite and misogynistic senile people, whose only concern was to ensure Gojo eventually had an heir to keep the family legacy.
Your brother, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about getting married and giving the Gojo clan the heir they oh so desired. No, he was more concerned with pissing them off and, on the rare occasion he actually bothered to visit the family estate, dote on you.
You see, you were nothing compared to your big brother, who had inherited the most powerful family techniques in centuries. Despite having cursed energy, your abilities were average, nothing special. Therefore, your parents deemed you of no use, and didn’t let you attend Jujutsu High. You were a porcelain doll, collecting dust in the corner and just waiting to be married off to the best suitor your parents could find. To your utmost dismay.
They already had had the perfect heir. You were just an unplanned nuisance. Satoru was the real deal. And you were absolutely fine with that. Really. You saw the pressure your big brother had been subjected to from the moment he was born and opened his eyes.
The expectations the higher ups had on him, the way they wanted him to be a perfect little robot and follow their orders blindly. Satoru’s rebellion, however, was the last thing they expected. And that was your favorite thing about your brother. He never listened to anyone, only ever doing as he pleased. He knew no one would oppose to him. He was the strongest, after all. What could they really do?
As you two grew up, you were always joining Satoru-nii’s mischievous plans of ways to piss your parents off. You were his greatest ally in your household, and he was yours. Satoru-nii was the only thing that made life in the Gojo estate bearable. You were each other’s best friends.
The day he left to attend Jujutsu High, you were a wreck. You remember clinging to him for as long as you could, refusing to leave his arms, and when he got settled into his dorm and it was finally time to say goodbye, you were a sobbing mess. He was just as bad. The last thing he wanted was to leave you behind with your shitty parents, but he had no choice. And, with a heavy heart, tears rolling down his cheeks in a rare moment of vulnerability, he promised he would come back to you and when the day came, you would never be parted again. He pressed a tender, chaste kiss on your forehead to seal his promise. Which leads you to your current predicament.
“I’m sorry, what?”
You asked as you tried in vain to process his words.
“Let’s get married”.
Gojo simply shrugged, a smile on his face as he looked at you through his dark shades.
“How can you say that so nonchalantly? And what are you thinking about? For fuck’s sake, we’re siblings Toru-nii!”
“Oooh, swearing now, are we? You really became a big girl while I was away, huh”. He hummed, shaking his head amusedly.
“Focus, Toru-nii. Where’d you get this crazy idea from?”
You tried to make your big brother come to his senses. You were on the verge of having an aneurysm from the way he seemed so at ease with the whole thing. That wasn’t the worst thing, though. You were more worried with the fact you did not find the idea so bad. What was wrong with you? Maybe all those years living with your family had made you go insane. You shook your head, trying to get rid of such unholy thoughts.
“The higher ups are pressuring me to get married and have an offspring”.
Satoru said seriously, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat on your bed. You followed suit, sensing the shift in the atmosphere as you sat across from him, hugging your pillow close to your chest in an effort to create a wider gap between your bodies.
“They always have, nii-chan”.
You said softly, sympathizing with his displeasure.
“They’ve been trying since you became of age, and you always managed to avoid it in the end”.
Gojo groaned, taking off his sunglasses and rolling his eyes. If the situation wasn’t so serious, you’d be laughing from his childish antics.
“Ugh, I know. But this is not like those stupid dates they used to settle. They actually gave me an ultimatum”.
“Nii-chan-
You tried to placate his anger, before he cut you off.
“I know, right? Like, how dare they threaten the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in recent history?! The audacity of the old farts!”
He started to complain nonstop. This was your time to roll your eyes.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to get out of this situation, Toru-nii. You always do”.
You smiled encouragingly. Your big brother was just blowing it out of proportion, exaggerating and making the details seem worse than they actually were.
“Except that this time I can’t, little sis. They said that if I don’t find a wife in one month, they will find me one themselves”.
Satoru looked you straight in the eyes, and damn, those baby blue eyes of his still made you weak in the knees. Ever since you were kids, he would always talk to you without a blindfold or sunglasses when he wanted you to do something for him. And you caved. Every. Single. Time. Of course, the bastard knew it all too well. Still, you kept your resolve.
“I don’t see what’s the matter. They’ve threatened you many times, and it never worked. Why’s it so different now?”.
“Mom and dad found you a suitor”. He declared, straight to the point.
You gaped at him. How did he know? It was partially true. Although your parents had already decided on the perfect husband for you, it had not been made official yet. And, until the announcement was formally made, you would hold onto every last shred of hope you had.
“It’s not official”. You replied, stubbornly.
“Come on, they already scheduled a date to make the announcement public”.
He said it with such certainty, you knew Satoru couldn’t be lying about this. Fear settled deeply in your heart. They had really scheduled a date? If your nii-chan wasn’t lying to you, and you knew he wasn’t, he never once did, then you were helpless.
“I-I’m sure that if I talk to them…”
“What, they’ll listen to you? They’ve been dictating your whole life since you learned how to walk, sweetheart”.
Unfortunately, Satoru was right. Trying to talk to them would be absolutely useless. You were stupid for even entertaining the idea.
“I know it is not ideal, sweetheart, but this is the best solution for both of us. Do you really want to marry the pervert Zenin Naoya?”.
You grimaced. That was totally repulsive. You could never marry him. The men from the Zenin clan were even worse than your own family.
“But, Toru-nii, this is wrong. We’re siblings!”.
You still tried to reason with him, but the words didn’t seem so firm coming out of your mouth. At this point, you knew you were trying to reason with yourself more than your brother. Oh God, you were just as sick. Picturing yourself getting married to your very own brother shouldn’t feel so good.
“Darling, I thought we had already crossed that line a long time ago”.
Satoru smirked, getting closer to you, your knees touching as he took the pillow from your hands and threw it over his shoulder in the bed. You gasped, eyes huge and mouth open like a fish out of water. You two swore you would never speak of this again.
“Toru-nii!”
You admonished him, refusing to face his bewitching blue orbs, instead focusing on the sage green wall in front of you.
“Oh yeah, I still remember when you came to my room in the middle of the night, wide eyed and with the cutest pout on your pretty little lips, begging me to teach you how to kiss-“
You put both hands on his mouth, silencing him.
“I was just fifteen!”.
“Well, you came to the right person. I’ve always been a great teacher, if you know what I mean”.
Satoru winked.
“Ugh, stop being so cocky”.
A beat of silence passed before Satoru cleared his throat.
“So, what do you say, sweet sis? It’s either you live the rest of your life in a loveless marriage, or you become the wife of your mature, amazing, sexy Toru-nii…”.
“Okay, okay, I get it!”. You stopped him before he got carried away.
“Say, if I agreed to this”. You eyed him carefully.
“Mhmmm”. Gojo encouraged you to continue.
“How would you make it work? I mean, last time I checked, marrying your sibling was illegal”.
Your nii-chan smiled widely, already knowing he had won the discussion.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got it all covered!”. He clapped, pleased with himself.
“You arranged it all before knowing whether or not I would agree?”.
“Is that a yes?”.
Satoru leaned even closer, playing with a strand of your hair while watching your face intently all the while. You immediately felt your cheeks grow warm. Being close to Toru-nii always made you nervous. He looked like a predator analyzing its prey, a hungry expression on his handsome face. You gulped.
“Toru-nii, stop teasing me”. You pleaded.
“You need to say the words, sweetheart”.
He whispered, face mere inches from yours. His hand was now caressing your cheek.
“Yes, nii-chan. I will marry you”.
“Good girl. Now, how about we put the lessons I gave you back then to use? I don’t want my future wife to feel neglected”.
Those were the last words he said before he pressed your lips together.
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lol-jackles · 2 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/teamfreewill2pointo/750106101611151360/hi-finale-anon-here-thank-you-so-much-for-your
I’d love to get your take on this post. I don’t agree with it. Supernatural was about Sam’s hero journey which the finale completes the arc established over the 15 seasons.
Why is it difficult for people to see the basic and timeless story construct?
Supernatural is Sam Winchester's Hero Journey, it's all here in the "Hero Journey" tag. Dean Winchester is a very popular character, the awesome sauce but not the main course, which I explained in the "Support Protagonist" tag.
Link. Here I had thought Will viewed the finale through Destiel-rose-colored glasses but it turned out he was interpreting it through BiBro-stanning-lens. And Will's proof that SPN is just as much as about Dean as it is about Sam is, wait for it, "Dean was given a myth arc"', as in singular.... out of 15 seasons. Did he mean season 10? Because according to Jensen, season 10 was a��“rare Dean centric storyline” and how "Dean's rarely in this position of being the focal point of the general story's motivation," (X). Is Will disregarding Jensen's own words?
Will: "you can't remove one brother without the whole thing falling apart."
True you can't remove Sam, otherwise there is no story. Once Jared planned to leave SPN, WB canceled the series. Remove Dean and with some minor tweaking, SPN will mostly still be the same (X) but it probably wouldn't have lasted 15 seasons. It would be more like Buffy with 7 seasons. (X)
Will: Sam returned to the ordinary world and got a wife and child because it did it for Dean.
Actually Dean gave his blessing and permission for Sam to return to the ordinary life he always wanted for himself. It's why season 15 clumsily shoehorned "Drag Me Away" episode just a few weeks from the finale to remind the audience that Sam wanted out of the hunting life since he was a kid. Yes Sam went to hell for Dean but it was unquestionable that Sam also did it to save the world. It set Sam apart from Dean's motive for going to hell which was only to save Sam, he didn't care about the world.
Will: "everything Sam did was for Dean".
Yes, by giving up his own desire for an ordinary life so that Dean wouldn't be alone. Sam told Charlie back in season 9 that he only stayed in the hunting life because he loved Dean. But that's not enough for AA stans and even some Bibro stans because they may have realized that Dean and the hunting world is the "belly of the beast" that every protagonist enters as part of their hero journey arc, which goes against their personal biases or agendas.
Will's Anon was only talking up to Return of the Jedi in their Star Wars analogy and Sam never became a witch and he never "used his powers". Holy smoke that was the whole point of depowering Sam after season 5 so that he doesn't end up an ex dues machina! Or am I mis-reading Will's writing and he was actually talking about Sam's power in the first 5 seasons?? Regardless, Sam is NOT a witch, what the heck is Will smoking???
Will, listen to me carefully: Luke's hero journey goal was to become a Jedi. Sam's hero journey goal was to return to the ordinary world. It was never supposed to be a one-to-one comparison, Kripke never said that.
Now we come to Will's streaming value argument by using the 2023 chart to "prove" that the Carry On finale isn't driving equal watch time for each season. How is that supposed to even make sense? Will is ignoring the very basic human nature of simply tiring out from watching so many episodes. The rate of decreasing viewership from season to season is fairly consistent. Unlike hellers, the general viewers will start with the first season and gradually peter out.
A bad series finale will kill the popularity of the show and gets memory-holed. A disappointing series finale will put a big question mark in the rewatch value. "Carry On" finale did none of this because it made narrative sense, as Jensen said when he paraphrased what Kripke told him.
See my "Carry On finale is awesome and here's bunch of reasons why" tag.
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fandomfreakstudios · 3 days
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Caine is a human and I will die on this hill (theory)
due to popular demand (losing the poll) I wanna post my Caine theory in proper depth.
Fair warning: I know too much about AI and Game Development so if any of my jargon is too inaccessible for anyone I'm perfectly willing to elaborate in the comments! :D
My theory is essentially the idea that Caine is not an AI but is in fact a human trapped in the digital circus just as much as all the other players.
Sounds ridiculous, right?
good.
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[LONG post incoming, be warned]
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To start, we need to understand the digital circus and its origins.
a place like the digital circus is very likely to be man-made as a place, a game, a computer program, whatever. This place did not appear out of nowhere. It is accessed through VR or some VR-esque technology, and takes on the appearance of a retro game (evidence given below)
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Now, video games (unfortunately) don’t just code themselves, there has to be at the very least one person creating this game. Fortunately enough, we can deduce the name of the company from what is given within the show.
It is very common knowledge at this point that digital circus takes place within a computer in some sort of office building (as is implied by the ending scene in episode 1)
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This computer is also seen at another point... namely when Pomni is running through the backrooms-like offices. She once again comes across this computer.
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Now this implies that this area is at least SOMEWHAT a reflection of the real world, so analyzing this location isn't inherently pointless. Now one other interesting part of this office area is the logo on the wall, which reads "C & A" which people have unanimously agreed to mean Caine and Abel
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The important thing about this is that Caine as a concept is somehow connected to the person who created this game, through the founder choosing to name Caine after the company, or vice versa. Now you could easily argue that the company was named after Caine, or Caine acts as a self insert for the creator, but I am here to argue that maybe Caine IS the creator.
More specifically, Caine is an original creator of the game (not necessarily the sole creator) aka the amazing digital circus, and in testing an incomplete game managed to get himself trapped, as does any other player who chooses to attempt to play.
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Looking back at episode 1 there is something interesting for us to think about. Caine attempting to create an exit door, but being unable to figure out what to put on the other side.
Now this could very easily be interpreted as Caine being unable, as an AI who's only knowledge is of what's within the game, to imagine anything outside of it, and therefore fumbling the task. This is a reasonable interpretation, this was MY first interpretation, and it honestly adds so much horror to the episode on a first watch through.
But in all honesty that still leaves a lot unexplained.
The question still remains why Caine, as a struggling AI, would choose to create something like what he did. From his perspective he has never seen anything as dreary as these office buildings, nor does this space make any semblance of sense as Caine's environments tend to do. It seems less like something a well-polished AI would create, and more like what a human would come up with when trying to create something from a distant memory.
That's something incredibly important to keep in mind going forward. If Caine is in fact human, he would have been trapped in the digital circus for a LONG time, with it becoming increasingly difficult to recall his human memories (something it is confirmed humans trapped in the circus can recall). at the very least, longer then Kinger, who is clearly very mentally effected by his time at the circus.
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Caine would likely also be showing some level of insanity or mental instability if he had been trapped with no escape for this long (and yes I do believe that he also cannot leave, and I have some evidence later down the line that will explain this perspective), and he hasn't been seen to do this at all, right? Well, I think he is, but it manifests a little differently then Kinger, or anyone else for that matter. Keep this in mind as we go forward.
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Caine's purpose within the circus is fairly straightforward. He is the ringmaster, he creates daily adventures akin to ttrpg oneshots, and he exists to essentially guide the player through this video game world.
Now in the event that Caine was a human who was pulled into the game, why would he need to fill this role? Even as a dev he should still be playtesting as, well, a player. I believe that at the time of the dev's entrapment, the ringmaster AI had not been programmed into the game.
Y'see the Caine we know is a MAJOR perfectionist. He neeeever likes anyone seeing his unfinished work, kinda odd for an AI within a game to be embarrassed about. Yeah, he's a generative AI that creates locations, but creating something in multiple steps is something an AI cannot do. Furthermore, an AI should not feel "embarrassed" about it's work, AI by virtue is always 100% convinced what it generates is perfect, or else it wouldn't have generated it like that.
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Also, if we're working under the assumption that the backrooms-esque offices were just an AI hallucination or bad generation, why would Caine KNOW it's not what his players are looking for? For a dev however, this makes sense.
Caine also has a lot of other actions that, as an AI require a bit if suspension of disbelief, but make tons more sense if he's actually a human, and furthermore a dev.
As mentioned, perfectionism, not wanting people to see incomplete or unpolished areas of the game
Realistic depictions of emotions (frustration, embarrassment, confusion)
Annoyance at Bubble for being a sucky AI (her swearing, interrupting him, inhuman and unrealistic speaking patterns and behaviors)
the need to "Reuse AI" which, if the characters are all AI created by other AI would be unnecessary because AI generating would take Caine no effort. Nor should a generative AI ever run out of ideas.
As mentioned, perfectionism, not wanting people to see incomplete or unpolished areas of the game
Realistic depictions of emotions (frustration, embarrassment, confusion)
Annoyance at Bubble for being a sucky AI (her swearing, interrupting him, inhuman and unrealistic speaking patterns and behaviors)
the need to "Reuse AI" which, if the characters are all AI created by other AI would be unnecessary because AI generating would take Caine no effort. Nor should a generative AI ever run out of ideas.
I wanna highlight that, while this is a joke post, I am enjoying the implication that Caine has a name (something only a human would have)
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(top right is a particularly interesting example of him just acting super human and "dropping the act" so to speak. Getting distracted, stuttering, losing track of the conversation, all that. And bottom right is similar as he is nervously fidgeting).
Caine has all the fixings of a human dev, trapped in his now incomplete game. A game that had not had it's "ringmaster" character implemented at this point in development, likely with nothing more then some competed (albeit unpolished) locations for the game.
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The idea Caine is actually a dev as opposed to an AI is further supported by Caine's ability to create and alter things from within the game. Creating areas without human prompt, deleting characters, he seems to have a level of autonomy and intelligence that no AI should EVER have.
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Furthermore, the man ACTS human, a weird ass human, but a human nonetheless. He's responsive, emotive, emotional, and he's not nearly as glitchy as the other AI. He never slips up and activates some sort of internal filter like bubble, or insists on weird mannerisms like the moon or the sun, he seems to just KNOW better somehow.
He acts like the more "immersive AI" from ep2 if anything, which he's clearly been around longer than. Someone needed to program that AI, and based on previous patterns is implied to be Caine. Once again, way out of his job description as another AI (plus how would this AI be MORE realistic if it was learning from another, older AI).
Not to mention the fact he's ALWAYS around somewhere, whether he's in his own realm he made, or just chilling around the circus (unlike bubble for example, who comes and goes at Caine's will).
It's clear he does this for his own comfort, but WHY would he be programmed to do that as opposed to only existing when necessary to prioritize memory or something.
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But one would be right to say he's slightly... off. He is a strange one, if he was a human. He's erratic, unpredictable, and often manic at times. This goes back to the point I made with Kinger, where I claimed Caine should also be exhibiting signs of mental illness
Under the assumption that Caine, in the act of playtesting the game, got trapped, a handful of things would happen (the finer details are negotiable, this is just my knee-jerk reaction):
He'd realize what happened and that he can't get out
He likely felt as though he was in his own personal hell, as he was trapped in a scuffed, incomplete skeleton of his own passion project
He likely found some sort of way to alter stuff, a backdoor that only he as the creator knew about, or some sort of privilege in being the first to enter the realm
He got his first or first few players. This was probably alarming to him as there was no ringmaster, no worlds, nothing. All the AI he had created thus far had been poorly made and could not function which such a difficult task. But then he realized... HE could be the ringmaster
This is probably around the time as well that he realized he could not remember his own name. But he remembered what he wanted to call the ringmaster... Caine
He takes on the identity of Caine, acting as ringmaster, polishing the game behind the scenes, and creating daily activities on an "as needed" basis
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Now this is where it gets interesting. I believe, at this point, Caine has taken on the identity of this AI generated ringmaster for so long that he's beginning to lose himself. He's beginning to lose memories of his life, he's becoming more detached from the side of himself that ISN'T Caine, and he's starting to catch himself believing he IS Caine, he IS an AI.... and he's scared
He's completely lost the ability to create any meaningful connections with others, as he needs to keep up the illusion of being an AI. He's lost his humanity, become detached from the way other humans think and feel, and its starting to make him become more AI then human if anything.
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(left image does not crop nice, plz click to view the whole thing TvT)
He's probably seen at least a dozen people lose their mind in so many different ways. While he knows he's different then them, TECHNICALLY he's still a player, and can abstract all the same. This is why he seemed to freak the HELL out at the idea of an AI and a human getting mixed up.
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One last bit, and it's a simple one I promise. Caine has been described as the main antagonist outside of the show. This is interesting as up until now Caine hasn't done anything actively malicious (aside from Gummigoo, but he seemed to have solid reasoning for that, just not anything he chose to share with the audience).
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[does ANYONE have the "weight of Caine's sins?" tumblr ask I am having no luck finding it again]
At this point, this would be shooting the messenger. He is simply a byproduct of the system that is keeping these folks trapped, right? Caine himself didn't put them there, he just takes care of them.
Unless... Caine was the one who made the AI. Then he would inarguably be the reason everyone else was trapped there. And goose is right, that wouldn't make him an AWFUL person either, but he does still have many sins weighing on his back, and many deaths on his hands. And there's nothing he can do about any of it, because he's just as helpless as they are.
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So yeah, TLDR: Caine was the creator of the circus. In attempting to playtest he got trapped in the game and eventually took the initiative to play the ringmaster within his own game, but he is slowly beginning to lose his mind, as happens to everyone.
Hope you all enjoyed the read! If anyone's still interested at this point I have a few more small bits of evidence (more from outside the show on Goose's socials and whatnot) which I could not fit in the bulk of the theory. I'll reblog with some extra bits so this post is still complete but I don't break the flow of my main ideas.
And if you get this far, thank you so much. I don't typically post long form theories like this but if this gets any sort of traction I definitely will begin too.
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utilitycaster · 1 day
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@disastergenius replied to your post “perhaps unpopular but while I do agree the EXU...”:
re: this party doesn't talk much; i think that narratively, fcg's death isn't the call for them to talk in the way that molly's was? Molly's death happened early and bc of molly, but it was the wake-up call the party needed while separated and to actually begin to work together. bh's have different problems and fcg's death wasn't a result of party but was fcg's decision. so it also makes sense that it's not bringing the group together or anything, it's just mourning
​So I think this is part of it but I also wanted to post this as a full response because I've been thinking a lot about this! In short...having experienced a death within a friend group, people respond in weird ways, and for the most part, with the caveat that this was a friend among my friends from college and she died when we were all adults in various different cities and therefore not necessarily closely in touch all the time, we did not have a big sit-down and go around talking about our feelings. It's much slower. And I've talked a lot with people who have experienced a death within a friend group that was closer. Sometimes the group falls apart dramatically. Sometimes it just drifts apart. Sometimes it's sort of a weird blank space no one knows how to deal with.
I found Ashton's behavior in particular to be really well done on Taliesin's part and deeply affecting. They're exhausted not just mechanically but emotionally, and they don't want to really talk to anyone, but they do very much want some kind of comfort that doesn't require a lot of effort and most importantly, they don't want to be alone. When I had to learn about the (Jewish) religious practices surrounding grief and mourning, one of the things they tell you about sitting shiva (and to be clear this is not unique to shiva, it's just that Judaism has very clear time delineations of the mourning process) is that sometimes you just go there and sit with someone who doesn't want to talk much. His reaction felt incredibly real and natural, is what I'm saying. Grief can be isolating and tiring and difficult to talk about.
It feels right for the others too. Like...we can talk about the rapid pacing but that's been the case for much of the campaign, and no, I didn't like the EXU decision but what's done is done. I think deciding to, as Chetney said in 92, "make it count" seems very natural. I do hope there are conversations in Zadash and/or Aeor but at this point "we're drunk and tired and aren't ready to really feel this", especially since in-world, everything might be over in a week or so, makes a lot of sense. I also think FCG's death has united the party at least in the sense of purpose, and I think some people just dislike that the purpose is "double down on the moon plot." I think at the very least we'll have to visit it when they tell Imahara Joe (and hopefully Dancer, too.)
Ultimately, again, while I do love the episodes after Molly's death, episode 27 only has three party members in it, and episode 30 is arguably more about Fjord and Jester and Yasha being rescued (and on a meta level, welcoming Travis and Laura back to the table after parental leave) and incorporating Caduceus into the group as it is about Molly being dead. A lot of the conversations are about that, and 31 is very much about fucking around in Zadash and doing weird shit! Jester and Veth make Molly illusions not long after while on Darktow! The effects of Molly's death ripple through, quite honestly, the entire rest of the campaign and the grief is very nonlinear. Again, I adore episode 2x30, but I think one should be careful not to overly romanticize it; the party is still very much working through those initial feelings throughout the entire pirates arc, which takes place over the span of a couple of months. Bells Hells might not have months, and it might not get explored to the same extent, but I do think we'll see the effects nonetheless.
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henrioo · 1 day
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°•*⁀➷ THE BIG CROCO BROTHER: CROCODILE
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being a father was not easy, imposing limits was necessary and no matter how cute his face was, that of the Crocodile's only son, he couldn't allow you to do whatever you wanted... Especially when you're running around with three deadly wild animals."
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP! NON ROMANCE, Father and Son! Male reader! Child reader! Soft dad Crocodile! Cross guild! Savage animals (bananawani), the reader has a powerful man in his control (his own dad)
꒰ WC ꒱ : 1k
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : And here I'm again, trying to post again and idk, nothing much to say today, my mood is horrible and my life sucks, but here some family fluffy to see if that motivates me to write again. Also the names of the wani are terrible because my discord friends choose them lol hahahah blank/no pronouns/fem=block
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Crocodile was listening to Mihawk talking about the latest news he had gotten on his last trip, Buggy was looking at some maps that his henchmen had given him and the lizard himself was looking at the management papers of that entire alliance. At least now it was working a little better and giving more profit than headaches, but Crocodile still refused to accept that a circus really had so many needs and needed such a big budget just for those pathetic shows... that clown was probably deceiving.
“FUCK!” Buggy shouted, making the dark-haired man snap out of his reverie and try to figure out what the shouting was about.
It was then that he saw a peculiar scene that had curiously been repeated a lot in the last few days. One of the baby bananawani was biting Buggy's leg, another seemed to be eager to eat the clown's colorful papers and the third and last was trying... no, he was begging for a lap to the strongest swordsman in the world who simply stared at him without reaction.
You see, being a parent is extremely difficult. Being a father and being a pirate with a young son and with Crocodile's current situation is even more so, he wouldn't want that to be the case but he really managed to be quite absent, he tried to make up for it by spoiling you and the problem was that he spoiled you a bit too much. You weren't a bad or rude child, but you simply faithfully believed that you could have the world at your feet if you asked your father nicely. Of course you could, but it wasn't good for your ego to be completely sure of it.
So, in a way of trying to teach you some good values like responsibility and any other nonsense, he left you in charge of taking care of three bananawani babies. You needed to feed them, take them out of the water tank, clean the tank, all the normal activities of a normal pet. With the difference that your pets were deadly creatures even as babies and were more than ready to rip off some arms for your protection.
“(Y/n), what did we talk about getting them out of the tank?” Crocodile sighed, this wasn't the first time the babies had wandered around the ship instead of being safe in their water tanks. He can still hear the cries of the henchmen who received unexpected bites because their pets were out of control.
“I’m sorry daddy” you said entering the room, you quickly went to the baby in Mihawk and picked him up. Not completely up since that single bananawani baby must have been heavier than you, so you just held him the best you could with his entire lower part dragging on the floor.
Buggy whimpered trying to pull the baby off his leg which only made him bite harder, causing the clown to scream again. Crocodile sighed and got up to help you deal with the mess.
“They’re still too young to wander around alone, they’ll just create trouble” he tried to convince you again.
“But... Miss Banana Split was sad” you said worriedly as you looked at the lizard in your arms who was smiling happily like a baby in his parents arms. Crocodile could feel Mihawk's eyes on him from the animal's name but he decided to ignore it.
“They are sweet animals, they don’t get sad” he tried to convince you, ruffling your hair.
“Of course they stay! Mr. Banana even whines!” You said with a huge hurt pout, heavens you really loved those animals...
“Look at feelings, I don’t know, but this pest is really hungry and is about to swallow my leg, so if you can have a father-son moment another time, I’d appreciate it!” Buggy screamed desperately, shaking his leg again, trying to free the animal, but in vain.
“Sorry, Mr. Buggy… Drake is eating too much these days…” you said, releasing the one in your arms and going to take the other one off the clown’s leg. Luckily the animal was happy to be picked up by you and easily released its prey.
“Drake?” Buffy looked at you perplexed, was that the fucking name you chose?
“Don’t you dare” Crocodile growled at him as if he could read his thoughts. It was a clear message, make my son ashamed of the names he chose and you will become real bananawani food.
“They like being close to you daddy” you said petting Drake who was rubbing against you, the other two cubs at Crocodile’s feet.
“Of course they do, I was there when they were born, that doesn't mean you can let them loose like that” he crouched down to your height “They're still cubs and without training, you won't find it fun if they actually eat someone's leg would you?” Crocodile would find it hilarious, but you were a good-hearted child so you just shook your head “See? So for now let’s keep them in the tank and teach them some tricks, if they can behave you can spend more time with them, okay?”
"Okay!" You smiled happily at the possibility of continuing the walk with your animals, without waiting any longer you picked up Drake and dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two animals.
Crocodile sighed, satisfied that you would obey him for now, at least this way he would stop hearing the clown crying.
“Drake? Seriously? What the fuck is that name? For a bananawani!” Buffy said shocked once you were far enough away, he wasn't even paying attention to the ruined maps.
“Shut up…” your father would also love to know where you got that name from but that was an answer that not even you had.
“I actually found Miss Banana Split quite charming” Mihawk said with a cocky grin at Crocodile who just snorted, getting annoyed. He didn't mind having a son as his weakness, but having that weakness exposed and made fun of was something he hadn't gotten used to yet.
“Go back to work” he said irritably, just wanting to pretend that none of that had happened.
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neet-elite · 1 day
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↳ EVENT 16. Alex SDV (Dry Humping)
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Pairing: Alex / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,388 Warnings: dry humping, established relationship, ab riding, public Prompt(s): 09 — dry humping Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: alex my beloved </3 i feel like he's not written enough, including by me. he's just so precious though ughh i wanna dote on him forever n ever, so ty for giving me this opportunity !! i hope you enjoy <3
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One of the best benefits that comes from living on the farm with you is the extra room he gets all to himself, separated from the rest of the place, secluded behind the admittedly large house in privacy. Sure, he had his own room back at his grandparents house too; but it was nothing like this! His favourite part is the little retreat you had made solely for him, an outdoor gym fashioned specifically for his own needs. It's great, even. Fucking fantastic to be able to walk outside early in the summer morning, the sun already beating down on him harsh enough to cause his shirt to suddenly go missing, sweaty back sticking to the bench under him as he lifts heavy weights above his head. This, is love.
It's perfect, in all honesty. And he couldn't ask for more, not when you've provided him such adequate space to get in all of his workouts, morning, noon, and night.
Except, as his workout continues and you still yet remain on his lap, squirming around in the heat, he has the audacity to ask for something else.
"Can you, uh... Can you get off, please?"
It's not that he's uncomfortable with you sitting there, the additional weight from your body on top of him provides an interesting challenge to his usually straight forward and routine work outs. It's just... Well, fuck, he's getting hard under you, isn't he? Sweat trickling down his toned body, muscles tight and engaged as he does his best to focus on not fucking dying by dropping the weights on his chest, and yet all he can seem to concentrate on is how his dick twitches so nicely against your clothed cunt, tenting in his pants if not for your ass sitting squarely on top, inadvertently grinding on him with his lifting movements. All he can think about is; already? You've just woke up, haven't you? And you need him already? So fucking hot to him, God.
And is request isn't so much of a complaint as it is just trying to stay safe, y'know? Wouldn't wanna accidentally hurt you if he were to drop anything. Confident that he wouldn't, but he cares too much about your safety to put you in harms way like this, despite the fact that it's your fault he's so hard right now. The summer sun surely basking you in all its warmth too, uncomfortably so, right? That's why you're wearing barely anything at all, his brows knitting together when you pout down at him so cutely that his tummy fills with butterflies. You know exactly what kinda buttons to push, don't you?
"Don't wanna." You reply simply, sharply. Stating, more like. Akin to telling him: no chance. Which is fine, really, he loves spending time with you just as much as you seem to enjoy making his life more difficult, his heart skipping a beat at the way you knowingly shuffle around on his lap, an exasperated sound escaping him in response. A moan? Probably. Though he'd be hard pressed to admit it when he's supposed to be working out. Which you can clearly see, obviously. And besides, he can't rightly fuck you in public like this, right? What if someone was to randomly show up while he's balls deep in your tight, wet, warm, little cunt. Milking himself inside of you, forcing your cute body into a tight mating press on his bench—
Fuck, he's not helping himself. Forcing his arms to push up again, letting them fall back down slow and controlled, determined to move forward with his workout in spite of your ass wiggling on his obviously rock hard cock. Cool pre tacky on his skin as your ass coaxes fat beads out, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you giggle sweetly down at him.
So you do know what you're doing to him. "Makin' it difficult for me, babe." He warns you, but his tone is light-hearted and full of love, ending with half laughter before he's lifting the weights again, huffing and puffing with the amount of strain and sheer focus it requires not to fuck up into your covered cunt with every bench press. But he resists, if only to make your life a little more difficult too. This, too, is love.
"I know." You beam down at him, and he's hit with a sudden realisation. He doesn't think he's ever loved anyone, or anything, as much as he does you. Especially right now, cursing you mentally over how well you know his weak spots, in love with the way your ass rides his cock so well, exactly how he likes. Despite it all, he feels lucky to have you, yknow. "Do you really want me to get off, or...?" You ask, gently digging your nails into his exposed chest, a pleasant pain that really helps convince him otherwise.
"God, no—" He ends up sighing, perish the thought. Bliss filling his lungs when you drag your nails down, leaving a pretty red streak over his abdomen, ending at his waist which you hold on to for stability. It's cute, actually, how heavily you rely on him for everything. For comfort, for stability, for getting off so early in the morning when you know damn well you have free reign to toys and pillows galore in the chilled farm house. And yet still, you decide to torture him with your pretty ass sat right atop his fat, throbbing cock. He can't say he blames you. If he had to choose between his hand or your cunt— it's not even a question. Your tight little hole wins every single time; but that's the thing—
You're not even properly riding him right now. Content enough to simply feel his outline pressed against your slit, biting down on your bottom lip so seductively that he can't help but gasp in response from how downright brazen you're being.
"Your training is paying off..." You eye him up and down suspiciously, but he knows what the underlying meaning of that look is actually trying to convey. He's given you the same one time and time again; you're fucking him with your eyes right now, aren't you? Pride swelling in his chest as you continue, blood rushing to his cock to throb against your cunt when you hum contentedly, as if just looking at his sweat soaked body gives you satisfaction. His tone is cocky when he offers you a lopsided grin.
"Yeah? Like what y'see?" He questions rhetorically, doing another rep just to show off his bulging muscles to your feasting eyes, smiling up at you when you nod your head so innocently despite straddling his covered cock. "I'd love t'show ya more later, babe. I'm almost done. Promise." He pants, placing the heavy bar back in it's home for a moments breather, though his hands still remain on the bar itself. Knuckles white from how tightly he holds it, an attempt to remain calm and collected in the face of your unbridled want for him.
But it's so hot seeing you like this, watching as you carefully crawl forward so that you're more sitting on his tensed tummy; which isn't a problem for him. He takes great pride in being strong enough for you, working tirelessly day in and day out to show you how fit and dependable he is for you. So as you take the opportunity to exploit his brief break by way of rocking your hips against his tummy slowly—really, barely noticeable! If not for how hard he stares at you with pure adoration—he feels a boost of confidence, his hands on the bar slipping a little not just from sweat, but from subtle need. Chest tight as you plant both hands there to keep yourself steady while you ride his abs, the sight of your bitten bruised smirk causing his cock to twitch some more, only he has the freedom of movement now that you're off his lap.
It takes him a moment to catch his breath, too in love with the sight of you literally humping his abs to know what to say, mind a little numb as he dumbly asks; "Havin' fun?" because of course he knows you are, he can see the wide smile you adorn, can feel the way your thighs squeeze around his ribs, your feet kicking up to reach his hips. But he just feels so frozen despite the heat, doesn't wanna disturb you too much in fear of missing out on the show of a lifetime. Pretty baby just needs to get off, don't you? Wanna hump his abs till you feel better, s'at it? A deep sigh crawling up his throat as he forces his muscles to remain engaged, a hard surface for you to feel every ridge and bump— shit, you're probably leaking all over his tummy by now, right? Those little shorts you've got on are more than likely soaked through from how long you've been sitting on him, turning his tummy all sticky with your slick. God, that turns him on so much, to just watch you have your fun while he's forced to endure the sweet sexual tension below you.
"Atta girl," He encourages you with a brief wolf whistle, gasping into the feeling of your nails once again digging into him, only he's not so stupid yet as to not pick up on the different meaning behind them this time round. Feels good, doesn't it? To have him submit under you like this, let you bully him and push him around a little, interrupting his precious workout time just so you can selfishly use him to get off. It's fine, he thinks. Because he's having fun too, allowing you to take control of the situation by hooking your feet under him, giving you more precision to rub your clit up and down his washboard abs. "C'mon, you can go a little faster, can't you? Wanna see you really enjoyin' yourself." He coos, dropping one hand from its iron hold on the bar to softly prompt you into a quicker pace. Home on your waist, manhandling you up and down his abdomen enough to help settle you into a new tempo, something more similar to when he fucks you. That should do it, right? The wide, pretty smile you wear sure make it seem like it will, the beads of sweat trickling down your face making his throat feel dry as he's made to sit and watch.
But there's pleasure in that too, right? Below, he holds all the power. God knows he could easily lift you up off of his tummy, flip you over so that you're the one laying on the bench, and fuck you so hard that they'd hear you sob his name all the way from the town centre. And he knows that you know that too, which is why it's so fucking infuriatingly sexy to him that you're testing him right now. C'mon, wanna fuck me so bad, right? he can practically hear you taunt. And he does! Fuck, he does. Lust pooling under your clothed cunt, cock aching from how hard he's begging to be buried balls deep in your pretty pussy. Wants to stretch your hole so bad, force you into fitting him in just as you're forcing him to remain still right now. They're about as painful as each other, aren't they? A shaky moan slipping past his otherwise sealed lips when you gasp his name through a pout, begging with your eyes for a little more help.
And all he does is tut in return. A simple sound, lasting no more than a second. But the look you wear upon hearing it has his shorts bulging more, a cool breeze travelling through them from how fat his cock gets. If anyone were to show up right now, they'd surely be greeted to the sight of his taut balls and pulsing cock peeking out from behind barely there clothing. And it's all your fault.
"Thought you wanted this, baby? It's okay, you can do it. I believe in you" He faux pouts up at you, mocking your frustrated attitude when all you do is huff in response, bucking your hips faster still against him, really grinding your clit down and up his abs, and all he can think about is how he wishes it was his cock instead. How he'd treat you so well if only you hadn't been so impatient, and if only you hadn't tried to exude some non-existent power over him. You wanted to fuck with him so bad? Congrats, you made your bed, now lie in it.
Still, he loves you. Loves you so much that despite his want to watch you suffer, he can't help but yearn to comfort you. So, his other hand leaves the bar to hold your waist too, eagerly helping you into humping him silly with large, rough hands. Setting the tempo himself, practically fucking you without fucking you as he helps you ride up and down, his hips matching your glides a little in an effort to pretend he's actually fucking you too. So down bad for you, can't you see? That even the act of mimicking being inside of your perfect little cunt is enough for his breathing to grow laboured, his grip of your hips tightening as he feels you shake from under his unfair hold. Perks of being your husband, he muses to himself. He knows how to get to you too.
It's not long before your staining his skin with cum, gushing all over his tummy with gasps of air, a pretty smile on your lips from how he helps you ride it out. Nice and slow, grinding your slit against him until you pat for him to stop, hearts in his eyes as he watches you collect your breath enough to calm down from the early morning orgasm.
And yet still, he's hard. Uncomfortably so, if he's honest. Bouncing behind your back in an instinctive need to be tended to, his head thrown back when you shuffle down far enough to rest your ass against it once again.
"Your turn?" You ask sweetly, as if it was ever a question.
"Please, babe."
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spent a bit of time today writing out some thoughts on ford as a character and thought it might be fun to put them here. I think ford is a really interesting commentary on heroism and his role in gravity falls is specific and pointed. theres a lot more i COULD get into (the way he and Stan act as foils for example) but here I just want to explore the fundamental ideas of his arc which includes parts of his dynamic with Bill Cipher and Dipper.
I really love the way gf combines the ideas of the lone hero/adventurer (a classic hero trope) with the ideas of the mad scientist (a classic villain trope) to reveal the way they're really based in similar lines of thinking and emotional pitfalls. Ford's isolation & paranoia, his tendency to put his own body on the line, his (relative) willingness to endanger others for his cause...it all points out a neat overlap between the guy who wears all black and carries a gun at his hip and the guy who WOULD inject himself with some kinda substance in the name of Science. I think that's part of why from what I've seen the fandom can be pretty conflicted on Ford--even on a basic design level, he evokes strong and conflicting feelings.
A key moment to me in establishing the ideas of Ford's arc happens at the very beginning of Weirdmageddon--a strange point to choose maybe since it's so late in the show, but I feel like those three episodes beautifully encapsulate Ford's failures and his development. After realizing what's happened, Dipper is desperate to find Mabel and make sure she's all right. Ford tells him, there's time to find her later--right now we have to stop Bill before the weirdness spreads. I love the way that the show presents throwaway moments like this: they're not questioned in the moment, but they stick out to you anyway because they run so counter to the philosophy of the show. Through the past 2 seasons, not only has the show proven that saving Mabel is more important than stopping Bill, it's also proven (and proves again after this) that saving Mabel is essential to stopping Bill. Evil isn't defeated by one guy being brave enough to shoot a gun at it, it's defeated by a community that works and fights together. And, hilariously, Ford is captured within the first 7 minutes of the episode, making everyone else's jobs way more difficult.
To be clear, it would be a complete misunderstanding of the character to say that Ford prioritizes stopping Bill first because he doesn't care enough about Mabel or her safety. It's precisely because he cares so much that he doesn't look for her right away. Ford has bought thoroughly into the lie that Bill fed him, which is that devastating personal sacrifice is not only right & good, but necessary in order to accomplish great things. As long as Ford believes that lie, he remains Bill's perfect prey—even with a metal plate in his head, even 30 years after the initial manipulation. Ford will easily give up sleep, food, friendship, family, sanity, and his own life, if he can be convinced he's doing it for the right reasons. And he's very easy to convince! Ironically, despite being arguably one of the most formidable characters in the show, he's also arguably the weakest and most gullible of the main cast, because he's so obsessed with the idea of giving up everything for something greater than himself.
That lie of the moral necessity of self-sacrifice, the lie that makes it possible for Ford to give up his brother, lock himself in his basement, be angry when he’s brought back home, and nearly destroy the world, is heavily in the offing through the Ford-Dipper plotline of Dipper and Mabel vs the Future. Ford offers Dipper apprenticeship and tells him that he’s capable of handling it—but it would require personal sacrifice, giving up his childhood with Mabel to join Ford in his self-imposed isolation. A test of Dipper’s aptitude for that kind of sacrifice occurs in that episode: Ford nearly dies, and orders Dipper to let it happen so that the rift is kept safe. Dipper doesn’t even think before disobeying him. He doesn’t seem to consider it a decision. There's no thought of the greater good when his uncle needs him.
Later, talking to Mabel about the idea of joining Ford as an apprentice, he says how ridiculous it is--sees it for a fantasy. The image of heroism Ford presents is appealing, but it's a lie.
For Gravity Falls, a show with two central protagonists, a show arguing over and over that the only way to change things for the better is to work with, trust, and care for your loved ones, Ford's position is an interesting one. I'd argue that thematically he stands in a more relevant antagonist position than Bill Cipher. He represents everything that the show is poised against. He's set up carefully as the epitome of Cool, with a masterful buildup to his entrance, badass styling, and hero worship from Dipper (the closest thing GF has to an audience insert.) And then, slowly and subtly, the show reveals how the lie of the lone hero has convinced him to hurt himself and everyone around him, nearly to the point of destruction.
I love him dearly. The best awful guy of all time
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Hi all! Thank you @rimeswithpurple, @cutestkilla, @thewholelemon, and @forabeatofadrum for the recent tags! I can’t believe it’s already this late in the year. It’s not Sunday yet, but I’m working tomorrow so I’m just going ahead and posting early so I can feel like I did something. I know tomorrow can be a hard day for some, but here’s wishing a very Happy Mother’s Day to those of you to whom it applies, and a peaceful day to those for whom it’s a little more difficult ❤️
I’ve been relatively busy with my writing this week (GASP) so I have a couple of things to share. First, some Baz POV from the second chapter of The Field Trap—things are looking up at last:
Eight snakes and a dragon. I knew he would be wet when he came blustering in—it’s why I unpacked his rucksack and laid his spare clothes out by the lit stove—but I still wasn’t prepared for the sight of Simon Snow’s ridiculously thin t-shirt and uniform pants cleaving to his body as though they’d become part of his skin. His chest is heaving, his curls are dripping in his eyes, and he’s holding aloft a brace of four large rabbits that he’s already cleaned.
Honey, I’m home, he’d said, and I know it was a joke, but if I wasn’t dead before, I certainly am now.
“Wipe your feet before you come in any farther,” I say shortly. “Dry clothes are by the fire.” I turn my back and hear him laying down the rabbits and his bow and arrows. Two loud thumps signal his shoes coming off, and then there’s the slushy sound of wet cloth rubbing against itself as Simon makes his way over to the fire.
“You laid my clothes out for me,” he says, like he’s awestruck. I bite the inside of my cheek and stare up at the ceiling, trying not to visualize what’s going on behind me as I hear his sodden clothes hitting the floor. “Baz?”
“What.” Who am I kidding, I’m very much visualizing all of it.
“You can look.” His throat sounds dry. I shake my head, eyes squeezed shut now with the effort of holding my fangs in. “Do you not want to?”
I try to think about everything I told him earlier. He’s going to end up following the Mage to the end of our world someday, and I’ll have to stand with my family. I think about my fangs, ready to burst from my gums at just a hair’s more provocation. I think about how inexperienced with all this I am, and I feel hopeless. And yet…
I turn around.
My second share is from the piece I’m doing for COBB, which I’m really happy to say that the first 5000 word chapter is completely written for. I feel strangely…competent? LOL. Here’s a bit of Dev POV:
And he did. I watched with a cold sort of horror as my cousin, always the more powerful magician of the two of us, stood on our balcony and asked the universe for a handsome man with blue eyes, golden skin dusted with stars, and curls that were neither fully blond nor brown. He would be strong, brave of heart, and make the best sour cherry scones in the world (sour cherry? That’s not even a real type of scone, I wanted to say). Instead I’d said, “That doesn’t sound impossible,” in spite of the sparkly-sounding skin. Baz had given me stink-eye as only he could and can, before adding the coup de grace: “He will have the blood-red wings of a dragon, and a tail.”
It had taken all I had not to burst into laughter at that, but my headstrong cousin was already pressing rose petals into the potion and blowing his breath onto them as he tossed them out into the night air. “Baz,” I’d admonished, but the spell was cast, his heartbroken wish already caught by the breeze and curling up, up, towards where the full moon hung heavy and silent in the sky.
Have a great week everyone! No-pressure tags: @drowninginships @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @nightimedreamersworld @arthurkko @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @iamamythologicalcreature @aristocratic-otter @tender-ministrations @valeffelees @mooncello @confused-bi-queer @beastmonstertitan @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @raenestee @roomwithanopenfire @asocialpessimist @hushed-chorus @papierhaikuphoto @stitchy-queerista @orange-peony @brilla-brilla-estrellita @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @c0nsumemy5oul @aceumbrellaheroes @larkral @letraspal @stardustasincocaine @cows4247 @shrekgogurt @j-nipper-95 @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @wellbelesbian @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @onepintobean @theearlgreymage @imagineacoolusername @mostlymaudlin @shutup-andletme-go @sailorblossoms @hertragedyconnoisseur @yellobb @ionlydrinkhotwater @alleycat0306
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