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#and I know that some people probably weren't sharing because it is very personal and feels awkward to talk about
bookish-bi-mormon · 1 year
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I found today's Sunday School discussion to be very ... frightening, to be honest.
We were talking about revelation, and the teacher asked us to share revelation we'd received, and ways that we personally feel revelation.
I was the only person who shared specific events and sensations that I believe to be God's way of communicating with me. Everyone else stayed on the path of "If it's good I know it's from God."
And I don't want to dismiss the more mundane promptings and inspiration that many people experience. It is true that sometimes you will feel like saying or doing something, and not know it's from God at all in the moment. It's only through hindsight that you see His hand. That's fine.
But it really seemed like almost none of them had experienced a moment of prayer or study that had led to a direct message from the Holy Ghost. I don't hear words, but on my mission I figured out where in my body the feeling comes. I know not everyone has a physical sensation, I had a friend who said that when he prays for answers he usually gets pictures in his mind. But I think it's important to learn to distinguish it, so that you're not relying solely on doing "good."
I don't know, I think that taking for granted that what you think is "good" is from God is what leads to lots of issues in the church. This is how we get people who are focused on obedience and on doing "good" things rather than having personal conversations with God. This is how we get a whole church who thinks that Homophobia must be right, because they were taught that only straight marriage is "good" and apparently have never thought to ask, or didn't know how to recognize the answer if it came.
President Nelson said that we need to learn how to receive personal revelation. Personally, I think this is where Seer Stones, Divining Rods, Card Divination, and other forms of folk magic that the early church used can really come in handy. I do tarot readings when I really want answers to questions, and it helps guide my conversations with my Heavenly Family. Flipping your scriptures open to a random page after specific question can help to.
People are all going to have different ways they connect with The Divine, but if you are a member of a church that boasts ongoing revelation, and you have never sought out to personally Know, not just logically but spiritually as well... I don't know, I guess I urge you to do that. Find out what the Holy Ghost feels like to you. Please.
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talkbycolor · 5 months
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I deserve this
A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs
Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)
CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate
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It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.
Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?
Because you had dreams, of course.
Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?
But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.
And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.
Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.
You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.
"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.
But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.
You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.
And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.
"Dear?"
Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.
It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?
"Love? Do you hear me?"
It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.
And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.
"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.
"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?
"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.
"Peter-…"
"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.
"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.
He kidnapped you.
And you couldn't even thank him for it.
He knocked you out.
You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?
He locked you up.
You wanted to return the signs of affection.
Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.
Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.
"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.
So it continued.
For a long time.
"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.
"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.
You know that's wrong, you don't like it.
You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.
You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.
It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.
His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.
It doesn't matter.
B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.
"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.
What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.
Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.
"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.
You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.
When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.
"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"
"Peter"
"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.
"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.
"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."
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uyuartik · 3 months
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bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)
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tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier
a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)
likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.
enjoy!!!
word count: 5.4K
chapter one: see you tonight?
“…Fuck, just like that-“
That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.
Ehem. Lord Kenobi.
And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.
Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.
Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.
You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.
“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.
“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.
Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.
Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 
And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.
"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 
"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 
Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 
"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”
You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 
You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 
“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.
Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?
You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.
"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.
"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."
Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”
“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.
“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 
You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."
He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 
"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"
He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"
"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.
"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.
It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."
"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.
"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"
"Just like now."
"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 
"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"
"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 
"I could never claim otherwise." 
That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.
That was it. That was the turning point of the night.
“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 
You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”
Now that’s, how you ended up here.
However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.
(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)
It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)
“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.
“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.
When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.
“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.
“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.
“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.
He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.
You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.
He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.
In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  
His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.
“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 
Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.
You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”
He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 
"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.
You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.
He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.
He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.
“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”
“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”
That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.
“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”
He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.
Remember when he said “ruin”?
He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.
“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”
Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.
He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.
Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.
“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.
This is why you ended up here.
“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.
“I want this to last, dear.”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.
Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.
You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.
Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –
His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.
Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.
Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.
“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”
You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.
“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.
It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.
When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.
Your limb stays in the spot he left it.
He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.
“Obi Wan-I’m c-“
He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”
Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 
That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 
He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.
“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”
You giggle. “I agree.”
“We should’ve done this before.”
Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.
But he has a point, too.
In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.
“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.
He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?
“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 
"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."
"Good night, Lord Kenobi.
"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 
The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 
In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 
Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.
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lulureadsandwrites · 2 months
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Hmmm.... How would Alastor realize he has begun to feel a sort of... affection for a reader? (Basically he's developing feelings and he realizes it).
hii this is my first work for alastor so forgive me if it's a little ooc and if you guys have any tips or requests, please let me know :))
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Alastor Falling For the Reader
pairing; alastor x (gender not specified) reader warning; ooc alastor (probably), a little bit of angst if you squint, cannabalism (its alastor what do you expect), blood, no dialogue (is that a warning?) perspective; 2nd person, in the eyes of alastor though if that makes sense?
so you first joined the hotel because of charlie
you weren't a parent per se to charlie, but you stepped up after lilith left to god knows where
(literally, god knows.)
and when lucifer was quite neglectful
so after getting you settled into your own room charlie wanted to introduce you to everyone
she had called a meeting to everyone in the main parlour
the reason alastor was so interested at you at first wasn't your kindness, or charisma, or even your charming smile
as much as he thought it was nice
it was your colour pallet
yes, as weird as it was, you were the only one in the hotel with blues and purples in your hair, outfit and makeup.
since the vision spectrum of a deer was limited to cooler colours and hell was filled with reds, blacks, and pinks it was refreshing for him to see something other than black and white
after a deft introduction from himself and quite a sloppy one from the others should he add, you all were spread around the bar drinking your respected drinks
and after a solid and quite warm welcome, you headed to your room and off to bed
the reason you and alastor grew close was because of your shared love of jazz music
there was no one else in the hotel who enjoyed the genre so it made you a bit more tolerable to him
as the weeks turned into months, you had grown close with most of the original people in the hotel
though, you couldn't find yourself getting close with angel
nothing against him of course, it was just hard to find common interest with him
personally, i don't see alastor falling easily, so it would take a lot, and i mean A LOT so idk what you did but congratulations
as yours and alastors platonic relationship grew, so did the want to be even closer with you
he was very up in your personal space and you couldn't say that you didn't like it
when he realised he wanted a romantic relationship with you he short circuited
let me expand, you two were enjoying dinner in one of the dinning rooms that had come with building up the new hotel
alastor was enjoying his weekly venison heart and you were indulging in some red wine and VERY MUCH COOKED deer
you had told him something about texture issues but he wasn't really paying attention to the words that came out of your mouth
he was more so just watching the way you slightly smiled while talking to him
anyways, as you had finished your meals, you had realised alastor had some blood dribbling from his mouth
you had tried to get him to wipe it off but he couldn't quite get it
so you had walked up in front of him and wiped it off with your thumb
not just that you had licked your thumb clean
in a twisted way, that was just really attractive to him
as soon as he realised his attraction to you he had to quickly excuse himself
after these newfound emotions that he had registered as love he ignored you
yeah, probably not the best move on his end but to be fair, he had never fallen in love before so that was his immediate reaction
he saw his affection for you as a weakness
you tried to talk to him?
oh apologies he has that thing he has to do since he's an overlord
and it was frustrating you, a lot
after a full week of him ignoring you, he decided to get advice from the best person he knew
rosie
when rosie had told him off for ignoring you, he knew he fucked up
not sure why that's would it took
she had told him that love shouldn't be seen as a weakness but a tool that he could utilise to make himself stronger too
basically out for love but in rosie's style lol
so when he came back to the hotel, he went to your room and knocked on the door
you had reluctantly let him in to explain himself
and while he didn't outrightly admit his feelings for you, it was pretty obvious
after a kiss on your hand, and a very long spiel of how sorry he was, (bro is down BAD i swear) you had forgiven him
now the next hurdle was trying to bring himself to ask if he could court you.
AHH FIRST HAZBIN HOTEL POST!!! PLEASE LEAVE MORE REQUESTS I LOVE THEM <3333
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twst-drabbles · 3 months
Text
Floyd 10
Summary: Sometimes when Crowley irritates you, you like to throw Floyd right at him.
(Really like the thought of slinging this eel around like a ferret.)
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Ever since Crowley installed a number of automatic systems that basically did his chores for him, he's been coming over more and more often out of sheer boredom. He pops over in your house unannounced, hogs your television when you want to use it, and has even taken over a lot of your chores just as you were in the mood to do them.
And right now, he's watering your berry bushes like he didn't take the hose from your hand.
"Neglecting your berry bushes like this, how awful!" Crowley complained loudly like you weren't right there in your backyard, splashing your feet about with Floyd chasing after your toes. "But, because I am very kind, I shall do it for you at almost no cost!"
You pinched Floyd between your ankles and threw him to the end of the pond. He flailed and squealed as he went sailing.
You yelled back, "No Crowley, you're not watching your shows on my TV! And I'm not making you snacks!"
He has his own television! And you know he can make his own snacks! You've seen him on a cooking show once at 1 AM! He knows this stuff! He doesn't need you to do any of this. And besides, when he gets too into whatever drama he got himself into, he whoops and hollers just as you're about to enter the realm of sleep.
Seriously, you already have issues with sleeping at a consistent time and this bird-brained man is not making things better for you. You have things to do! Pets to take care of and entertain when their solo enrichment wasn't enough.
"Oh come on," Crowley scoffed in that way that never fails to irritates you. That specific scoff like you're some silly kid that's claiming things for themselves because they haven't digested the concept of sharing. "Don't tell me you have forgotten basic manners. You haven't been an adult for that long and already you don't want to show appreciation for all these things I'm doing for you."
"I don't need you to do shit for me, Old Crow," your whisper came out as a hiss.
Crowley was struck by nickname he probably thought was dead on your tongue. "Old-!"
"What I need from you," you smiled and dunked your entire arm into the pond. You grabbed Floyd just as he was about to nip at your calves. "Is for you to get a hobby!"
And like a rocket being launched, you threw Floyd directly to the back of Crowley's head. You may have thrown this eel one too many times. His posture was perfectly straight, arms sticking right out like he's one of those superheroes in a cartoon, and his face was perfectly pensive as though you're sending him off on a mission.
You didn't really mean for him to land perfectly on the back of Crowley's head. You just wanted Floyd to get, like, around his back but oh well. Too late now.
Floyd gripped his teeth and claws into Crowley's hair just as he tipped forward at the new weight.
"What in-" Then, Floyd slipped his tail under Crowley's collar, then whipped it around with no mercy! "Mmmah!"
"Ah, Floyd's slime wiping attack," you noted with a chuckle. You've been victim of that move a few times before. You're pretty sure it's not any sort of territory marking so much as he wants to gross people out. "I am not sorry."
Seriously, just because he's bored, Crowley thinks he can annoy you and not face any of your antics. If he wants to spend time with you so much, he should at least call or text ahead. Or go hang out with literally anyone else in this neighborhood. There's not a single person here that doesn't know him by name.
"Get him off!" Crowley sprinted right past you, trying to grab Floyd but his poor hands are covered in slime, "Get him off!"
"Hmm," you splashed around the pond some more. "Nah."
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restinslices · 2 months
Text
Everything pt3
PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)
Word count: 6999 (I made a few word changes at the last minute so this is inaccurate. Rip)
Summary: Everything pt1 and 2 from Ares perspective
Warnings: Sad shit. Ares threatening to murder Athena’s owl so animal cruelty? OOC Ares but this is not y'all first rodeo. Possible OOC Athena but who isn’t a little shit to their sibling? (The way that most of the gifs of him on here are him beating on Percy-)
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You wanna know how to keep your sanity somewhat intact as a god?
Don't worry about your children. 
Gods are immortal. Their children? Not so much. If the gods watched over all their kids and were as involved as people wanted them to be, that meant everytime one of them died, they'd be torn up. Gods had too many kids. The grief would never end. 
That's how Ares saw it at least. Plus, that's how Zeus had it. You couldn't be too involved, and Ares didn't complain. Hating your kids was so much easier than openly loving them. Sure, he would watch his kids from a distance sometimes but there were gods like Hermes who thought about his kids every single day. One specific child tore him up from the inside. If anyone ever mentioned Luke Castellan, his face would go all solemn and he'd make some excuse to leave. 
That's what happened when you cared about one child. Imagine how it would be if the gods cared about all their kids this way. Endless torment. 
The brain was a funny thing though. You could try not to think about something, and it'd pop in your head anyway. Sometimes, you just did things because your brain was used to it. Like a morning routine. You don't think about everything you're doing when you're getting ready for the day, you just do it because that's what your brain is used to. Sometimes you'd look somewhere and be flooded with emotions linked to certain memories. The brain was very interesting. 
Ares didn't mean to stumble upon one of his kids. It just happened. Went back to that brain thing. Ares only meant to have a nice late night drive in the rain, no real destination in mind. That was his mistake. If he had a destination in mind, he wouldn't have been on autopilot and drove down a street that was linked with multiple emotions and memories. 
Memories of a woman he shared laughs with. Memories of a woman he'd hold hands with and take on various bike rides and walks. Memories of a woman he called beautiful and loving on multiple occasions. Memories of a woman that had one of his children and looked as happy as could be when she held them. 
There were other memories though. 
Memories of a woman he watched turn bitter and cold towards him. He was gone too often and they both knew she wouldn't be the last person he was with. There were memories of them fighting, of her telling him that he left her with a curse she couldn't get rid of. And Ares watched from afar as all the anger she had towards him was targeted at his child because they were within reach. 
He gritted his teeth as he thought about it, and he was planning on turning around, but he decided not to when he saw the figure sitting on the ground. He didn't have to be close to know it was you. You sat outside a lot, and he assumed it was because your house was too loud at times. Plus, you had a specific hoodie you got as a gift in middle school and you kept it ever since. Pros of getting a gift way too big for you. 
His mind screamed at him. “Do not go any closer! Just mind your business and turn around! Now!”
He didn't stop his bike as he was thinking, and the view of you and what he assumed was gonna be your poor excuse of an offering came closer and closer into view. A fruit roll up? He probably would've ignored you if he wasn't so close. 
“Tough night” he said once he was in front of you. Your confusion was clear. You hadn't technically made an offering, so you weren't expecting him to appear. “You were going to”. 
You asked why he was here and he responded a little more sarcastic than he meant to, but oh well. Wouldn't matter. He'd take you back to camp, forget this conversation, then that'd be it. 
“Why don't you like me?”
The question caught him off guard. It was sudden and came out of nowhere. He hasn't told you or any of his kids he didn't like them, so where the hell did you hear that?
Then you explained, and the conversation kept getting more heated. 
Anyone would expect for him to love arguments and usually, he did. This one though, he didn't. The more points you kept bringing up, the more he'd try to deflect and move on, and then you'd bring up even more points. You didn't accept him saying he didn't have to explain anything to you, and he hated it. Any other kid wouldn't dare talk to their parent this way, so why did he have to get the difficult one?
You made another good point about how his eyes shouldn't wander when he has Aphrodite and that calm facade slipped for a moment. Not because he didn't want you speaking about her, but because you were right and he had no actual answers for you. He should be satisfied with Aphrodite, and he was. But he was also a god and sleeping with mortals was part of the gig. They never really thought about what happened after. They weren't supposed to. 
“I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 
“Believe it or not, the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”
But he wanted to. You had no idea how hard it was to watch one of your children be stuck in a situation you wanted to save them from but couldn't. 
Couldn't. 
Ares hated that word. As a god, he should've been allowed to do whatever he wanted. “Couldn't” shouldn’t be in his vocabulary, but rules put it there. You had no idea about all he had done to keep those types of men away from you. Did you honestly believe he “broke his wrist at work”? He worked at a fast food place. What were the chances?
He tried. The guy was just persistent. When he eventually gave up, your mom married another guy like him, just in a different font and had kids almost immediately with him. Like the last guy, this one was also persistent. There was only so much Ares could get away with before it'd cause a bigger problem, but he tried to make your life better from afar. 
He wanted to beat himself over the head. Why was he so frustrated with himself? The whole point of telling yourself and others that you hated kids, including your own, is that eventually you'd believe it. It was supposed to stay that way. He should've just said “I tried. Get over it”. Why did he wanna try harder? Why did he have this weird ache? Why did the rain suddenly hit him harder and the air smell so bitter?
“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 
That wasn't true at all. Him not being proud of you? He wasn't supposed to have a favorite, but in the back of his mind he knew his favorite was you. He didn't give gifts to just any of his kids, it was for a reason. It was a small hint that he was watching and liked what he saw. He watched how you carried yourself in battle. You didn't just run in angrily, no. You understood battle. You understood your opponent. You actually looked into wars and you and a few of his other children would try to spot where his influence was. He'd be pretty stupid not to have you as a favorite. 
But you couldn't hear that. If he said any of that out loud, that'd make it real. If he said all of that out loud, his facade would crack and that's something he couldn't let happen. So he defended himself instead. “I claimed you didn't I?”. 
He didn't expect what happened next. 
Firstly, he didn't expect that you'd start to actually yell at him. Only fools who didn't care about their lives did that. Secondly, he didn't expect that ache he felt to get worse with every little thing you said. Especially the last part. 
“... If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 
The facade slipped from his face for a second. How couldn't it? You looked so beaten down and broken, and not because you were in a fight. He would've preferred that. If you had just finished a quest and you looked badly beaten with bruises everywhere, he would've felt better than he did now. At least then he wouldn't feel so guilty. Guilt was another feeling he hated. It meant he did something or made a mistake and he had a reason to feel guilty. Feeling guilty meant he cared enough about you and regretted what he done. It meant the lies he told himself for years weren't satisfying him anymore. It meant he had a problem. 
He tried to tune out the rest of the interaction. He heard your comment about being a burden, and your crying, then your realization that you had yelled at a god, and your comment about him cursing you, but he tried not to focus on any of it. All he did was throw a pouch of drachmas on your lap and watch you suspiciously open it. If you didn't want a ride from him back to camp, you could at least call for another. He could've just tossed you one, but you didn't have any on you. He figured you needed it more than him. 
“You're leaving?” You asked.
“I have a busy schedule”. It wasn't necessarily a lie. He had a particular house call he had to make, so technically he had something on his schedule. Besides that though, he knew he had to leave.
The thing about being away from your kids, is that it makes hating them easier. As twisted as it sounds, they're not there to defend themselves. It's easier to put walls up when there's not someone in front of you knocking them down over and over again. 
Then you did another thing that weirdly hurt. You didn't call him dad. 
What was wrong with him? Must've been just an off day. That's all it was, right?
“Yeah” he accidentally replied to himself out loud before he sped off. 
Just an off day. 
~
You wanna know another way to keep your sanity intact as a god?
Don't have an off day. 
Why? Because being around gods is like being around elementary school bullies. The gods still hadn't let Ares live down that day when him and Aphrodite got trapped by Hephaestus. Almost every single meeting they'd had, someone made a sly joke. Do you know how annoying it is to hear “I heard you're good at… NETworking” multiple times a year? You'd help Kronos escape too!
Gods notice when you have off days. They also dabble in business that had nothing to do with them. 
When Ares noticed he was missing offerings from a particular child, he must've seemed off. You know who smelled it on him? Athena. 
Ms “look at my owl! I'm so smart! Dad loves me more! Hahahaha I'm just so much better at war!”. Couldn't Kronos strangle her first?
“Ares, brother of mine, you seem so distracted”. Shielding her nosiness as concern. Of course. 
“I was taking in the view until you ruined it”. She smiled, but it wasn't a smile of joy. It wasn't a smile of bitterness and anger either. It was the kind of smile someone gave you before they dealt a crushing blow. Sinister almost. 
But sure, she was totally the better and nicer god. Yeah, ok. 
“Olympus certainly is beautiful. I'm surprised a brute can comprehend something as ‘beautiful’ and 'take in a view’ ”. 
He couldn't help but think to himself “this is the person people prefer?”. At least he was openly mean. Athena was like one of those mean girl characters in movies Aphrodite made him watch. Real snarky but hid it well. 
“You can't turn me into a spider, so I'll just say it; you're a real bitch and one day I'm gonna kill that disgusting owl of yours”
“You'll do no such thing!”. Threatening an owl made her angry? But if he called her pathetic then it's “Ares be nice to your sister!”. 
“Anger over an owl? You're pathetic-”
“Ares!” Hermes seemed to shout from out of nowhere “be nice to Athena!”
See?
He couldn't even throw something at Hermes because he was there one second and gone the next. 
Athena chuckled. “The smell up here is heavenly too. I can smell the offerings my children give me so well up here-”
“What do you want?” he asked, tired of this game already. “Get to it and make it fast. I don't like you”. 
“Hmm, you know who does like me? A particular child of yours”. She didn't need to say your name for him to know who she meant, but she did it anyway. 
“I don't care” he lied. It should've been the truth, but the memories of your last talk coming back and the fact that you chose her out of all the gods to switch over to pissed him off more than he liked to admit. “I have other kids”. 
“But each child is special, aren't they? There's only one of them”. 
“I don't care about any of them”. 
“Then you shouldn't care about what I'm about to say next; it's not just me. I asked around and I guess your child prefers others. Such a sad time. Speaking of other gods, did you know Poseidon got an offering from them recently? Poseidon, father of the child that beat you in combat, well they'll be watching over that child that beat you in combat. Maybe they'll even visit that beach where-”
“It was one time and his dad helped him!” 
“Whatever you say”. Ares had to remind himself that destroying another god wouldn't look good for him. That owl though? He was gonna poke a hole through it. 
“I couldn't imagine any of my children doing that. Must put a lot on your mind” she patted his shoulder then walked away. 
You gave offerings that belonged to him, to other gods. Worse of all, Athena. Then you decided to watch over Percy Jackson of all people? Really proved you were his. You knew how to hit people and make them feel it. It was just unfortunate it was happening to him. 
He didn't care. That's what he told himself. He was just being nosey. Hermes did it all the time, why couldn't he? 
He didn't think about your last conversation and ever since then he'd been watching over his kids more. 
He didn't care about one child not giving him his offerings. 
He wasn't seeing what the hell was going on being he cared. Absolutely not. He was just bored and nosey. That's all it was. 
~~
Ok so Ares had made a little oopsie. 
After your talk, Ares made a little house call and things got out of hand and some hospital visits had to be made. Whoops?
Because of that, your mom and step dad needed no convincing when you asked for legal documents so Sally could take you in. 
Well fuck. There went that obstacle.
And because he absolutely did not care and was only a bit nosey… he kept watching over you. 
He kept debating with himself. On one hand, he shouldn't have cared. Sure, he was missing offerings from one person but it was only one person. On the other hand, the fact that you kept making offerings to Poseidon, and he even gave you a gift, rubbed him the wrong way. Offerings, gifts, staying with that mortal woman and his son, going to school near each other, it's like you were changing families. Not only did that damage his pride as a god, but it also twisted a knife inside him that he didn't know how to get out. 
One day though, Ares got tired of it. He was a god and if he wanted you to cut this shit out, then he'd just force you to. All these emotions were making him weaker than he was, and he was tired of it. You weren't Poseidon's child, you were his. Simple as that. You just needed a reminder.
Slight problem. You and that Jackson boy were idiots. 
For reasons unknown to him, neither of you thought “hey, wouldn't two demigods attract a lot of monsters?”. So a big chunk of the time he was watching over you, he was killing monsters. You may have thought you were killing lots of monsters when you snuck over to Jackson's school, but he did a lot more work than you. Behind the schools, outside the apartment building, in between alleyways, everywhere. If he was anyone else, he wouldn't have been having as much fun as he was having. 
Fun had a limit though. He'd think about Poseidon and Percy and your last talk and that “fun” would become “annoyance”. Right now, the annoyance was higher than the fun bar. 
He was approaching the mall you worked at, and let out a deep sigh when he got closer. He was sure to mortals, it looked like a group of women were standing around and talking about whatever older women talked about. To him though, and anyone else that could see through the mist, the view was more sinister. 
Harpies. Not just one. Not two. Not even three. He didn't count them individually, but if he had to guess, there were at least ten. At least. 
Ten harpies. One demigod. 
One demigod that happened to be his child. 
All of that equaled one very pissed off god. 
The battle was short. The smart harpies flew away when they smelled him. The stupid ones were ripped limb from limb, beheaded and had holes put in them. 
Afterwards, he had a pep in his step. If there were at least ten outside, he could only imagine some made their way inside. 
By the time he found you, you had just stabbed your sword through a harpy’s throat. You pulled it out just as another harpy flew in the air. 
“MY SISTER!”, it shrieked. You looked up at it, no sense of fear in your body language. 
“You want more from the Child of Ares?! I have plenty to give!”. A sense of pride shot through him. 
You wouldn't get it unless you were him. He was the god of war for fucks sake, so not only was he watching a child of his in battle, but that same child used his name as a battle call. Sure, armies used to all the time, but it felt different when it was your kid. Once again, you wouldn't understand unless you were him. 
Unfortunately though, the fight was cut short. The harpy saw him and stopped, “L-L-Lord Ares. I-”. He didn't waste any time. He grabbed you and threw you at it, and watched as your sword lodged into the harpy and the wall. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked. 
“Saving your life”. 
Your face turned sour and he couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe you didn't know, but you looked the farthest from pleased. If he had to guess, you were probably thinking something like “I had everything 100% under control”. His children tended to have prides as big as Olympus itself. 
“Are you gonna catch me?” You asked.
 “What for?”
 “Because you threw me all the way to the fifth floor and it’d be nice not to break something”
 “You need me to warm up milk up for you too?”. Ares made smart ass remarks, and he expected you to make one back. Instead, you firmly planted your feet against the wall and pushed, and like a reflex he moved his arms so he could catch you. 
Ares couldn't remember the last time he held you. In all honesty, he wasn't sure he ever held you. He wasn't sure he held any of his kids. He used to. Time was hard to keep track of when you were immortal, but he remembers a time, maybe a hundred years ago, when he used to be present for his kids. Before rules were made and “couldn't” slipped its way into his vocabulary. He used to see his kids all the time. He'd actually keep track, help them on their journey and watch over them. When they died, he'd truly mourn them. 
Then rules were in place and now he kept his distance. When they died, did it hurt? Sure. Not as much as it used to though. A pro in a boatload of cons. 
When you slipped out of his hands, he noticed a few things. You were a few inches taller, and your hair had grown out. Such small things. Anyone else wouldn't notice, but because of his absence, he always noticed small things like that. He used to think “ok, whatever”. But now, he felt an aura of sadness. You, and the rest of his children, were getting older and he was never really there. 
He missed when he was just annoyed or angry when he saw his kids. Anger was way better than sadness. 
“I thought you're not allowed to interfere” you said, and he raised a brow. He thought it was real ironic that suddenly you cared for rules as if you hadn't been breaking them. 
“Are you gonna tell on me?”
“If you hadn't caught me”
“And now?”
“My lips are sealed”. He wasn't really bothered about you telling. Zeus would get over it, and you only knew about one fight. Not the others. 
He could've walked away and left it at that, but he didn't want to. Your words from last time kept ringing in his ears. 
“... If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 
He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because you were the only child of his that actually voiced how you felt. You made him feel guilty and that small amount of guilt cracked the walls and foundation he worked so hard to build mentally. 
Another thought crossed his mind. He didn't want this conversation to stop now. The gods were on borrowed time. Who knew when Zeus would get a bit nosey and he'd be forced to go? He craved what used to be normal hundreds of years ago, and even though it probably wouldn't be that way again, he could pretend for the time being. 
“You have money on you?” 
“Uh, yeah”
“You're paying for dinner. Let's go”. You owed him offerings anyway. 
“I can't” you said after you grabbed his arm. 
“Can't?”
“Yeah. I can't. My uh… my ride. Mom. She's coming to get me. You don't want mom knowing you're in town, right?”. Sneaky asshole. If he hadn't been watching, and if you hadn't paused so much, he would've believed you. 
He looked you up and down, debating on if he should pop your bubble now. 
“Just tax them another burger” he thought and didn't mention he already knew you were staying with Jackson and his mom. Instead, he told you the name of a diner nearby and to be there by noon tomorrow. There was no sneaking your way out of this one. 
~~~
Ares wouldn't say he was nervous. It just felt different. Not in a bad way either, which was alarming him. He enjoyed being around one of his kids, even though he was occupied with the Twitter war he started about vaccinations. 
You looked at him from across the table with a furrowed brow, and that's when he finally addressed you and told you what he was doing. 
He didn't know if you noticed this, but you made a little sound. Like you were beginning to scream but didn't. He looked up at you and you looked laser focused. Were you… were you screaming in your head? Alright. Maybe it was time to put the phone down before you popped a blood vessel. 
“You're probably wondering why I've called you here”
You squinted, “I'm wondering why I'm paying”
“Ask me”
“You know I wanna know though so why am I asking?”. He didn't respond. He just stared at you and tapped his foot on the floor loudly. He hoped it annoyed you as much as your smart mouth annoyed him. Maybe this was how parental relationships were supposed to feel though. It'd been so long. 
“Ares, the amazing God of War. The Protector of Mistreated Women. Wearer of biker jackets. I come before you as your humble child, begging thee to tell me what required my summons and why you were at the mall last night. Please please please tell me. I'll fall over and die if you don't”. Chiron was doing a terrible job when it came to teaching you manners and if you were anyone else, he would've gotten angry. Instead, he was mildly annoyed. 
He motioned towards the platter of burgers and fries, “this is your thank you. This is your offering to me since you haven't been doing that”. 
There it was. You visibly tensed now that you were caught. 
“You noticed?”
“I did. You demigods think you’re so smart. You have these big egos and think you’re ahead of us. You gave your offerings to Athena and Poseidon of all people” saying it out loud left a bitter taste in his mouth and he got angry again. Poseidon and Athena? Two gods that wouldn't have saved you from that mall incident. Two gods that didn't even try. In all the incidents you've had so far, it's been him trailing behind you and keeping you safe! “And then you stay with that fish boy and his mom. Yeah. I saw that too. And I save your life and you don’t seem the least bit grateful”.
“Yeah dad, I’m super grateful my life consists of monsters trying to eat me and a dad I only see once in a blue moon. Totally grateful”.
“We can’t interfere” he tried to defend his actions again. 
“Didn’t stop you last night”
He tsked, “I don’t get you. You complain about my absence then you complain when I’m here when I could be doing anything else!”. Ares kept putting his foot in his mouth. He was so bad at this, it was insane. Ares was never one to coddle his children, but he used to be able to be strict and stern without hurting someone's feelings… majority of the time. Sometimes things are said, but he didn't used to be this bad at it. What he should've done was apologize, but apologizing was never something he was good at. And if he apologized, he'd have to admit he was wrong and promise to do better, and he wasn't sure he could or that he even wanted to.
“Then go do those things. I’m not holding your hand and making you stay! And this isn’t about us and you know it. This is about you. This is about your ego being hurt. You don’t care about my safety. You didn’t go to the mall to protect me. You just love a fight and you were probably disappointed you couldn’t do more”. The scowl you had was so familiar, it was almost creepy. You weren't 100% his twin by any means. You had your own facial features, but dammit, anyone could tell by the scowl alone that you were his. It made that knife he couldn't get out twist a little more. 
You were so wrong. Sure, he was at the mall planning to set you straight but he genuinely did care about your safety. You had no idea how many monsters he killed or scared away that were tracking you down, and you had no idea about the other harpies outside the mall. The fact that you thought he didn't care about you at all, hurt him more than he ever wanted to admit. 
“That's what you think?” he asked. A tinge of anger in him, but mainly regret and sorrow. 
“That's what I know. And I didn’t need your help. I was just fine. The only thing you would’ve missed if I somehow died was your little offerings. I don’t matter to you. Just admit it so we can move on” he wanted to tell you how wrong you were, but you beat him to the punch. “And for your information Percy and Sally are very nice people. They feel more like family than you do”. 
The knife kept twisting. 
He wanted to share the blame. He wanted to find a way to blame you, or his other kids, or Zeus, but he knew he couldn't. Zeus was a problem. No point in denying that. But Ares could've always tried, and he didn't. He allowed himself to lie to himself over and over again about how he felt about his kids, and now it felt like you were slipping through his fingers and he wasn't strong enough to hold on. He wasn't fast enough to grab you. 
It got silent. He didn't know what to say. Ares hardly ever felt powerless, but that's exactly what he felt in this moment. Completely and utterly powerless. 
“Have you heard the song American Pie? Yes, it’s somewhat important to what I have to say. Yes or no only please”. He didn't need a mirror to know he looked unamused. What did a random song have to do with anything?
“I don't know. Maybe? Who cares?”. 
“There’s a line in the song that says this’ll be the day that I die. And for whatever reason it made me think about what I’d do if I were dying. If I woke up one day and I knew I was gonna die that day, what would I do? You wanna know what I realized?”. He leaned back in his chair. He had no idea where you were going with this but he might as well hear you out. “Shoot”. 
“I realized-” your voice wobbled and he did his best to not reveal how much it hurt to hear. “I realized I'd spend every second trying to make you love me”. 
The room stilled for him. Everything seemed to pause and he was left in a silent room. Everything was silent, except for his own heartbeat which thumped in his chest in an increasingly slow rhythm. 
If Ares was asked to describe how much those words tore him apart, he'd be at a loss for words. It was a feeling you'd only understand if you were a parent, and it was a feeling you'd hope you'd never feel. It was words you hoped you'd never hear. What was worse is that he only had himself to blame. Ares spent years lying to himself about how he felt. It became natural and sometimes he'd lie about things he didn't have to just because lying felt normal. It didn't feel that way anymore. It felt… he didn't know how to describe it. Each lie he's ever told in his life felt like it was being shot back at him at point blank range. He kept feeling various holes being shot in him and he had no idea how to cover them back up. 
When you started blinking, which was an obvious attempt to not cry and said “And I uh… I don’t wanna be that way anymore. And selfishly I hope that scares you” that knife kept twisting. 
“Gods don't feel fear” he lied. Gods felt fear. They were just better at hiding it. 
“Well whatever you wanna call it I hope you feel it. I hope -and I’m gonna keep calling it fear- I hope you feel afraid for what that means for us”. How defeated you looked filled his head with memories he wanted to keep buried. It reminded him of when he found you on that rainy night. It reminded him of when you started leaving cracks on his mental fortress. 
 “Allow me to humor you for a bit” all the sarcasm and hostility slipped from his voice now. He had a question but he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. “Why would you not wanting to spend your last day with me scare me?”
You gave him an answer and if he could go back, he wouldn't have asked at all. 
Ares knew that his kids wanted to bring honor to his name, and as demigods, it was kinda their job. With that being said, he still felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. 
Grief. 
Grief because your relationship was ending before it actually began. Hearing that you were intrigued by him before, and when you were claimed you read every story with him in it, only for all that excitement to be crushed… he wouldn't even wish this feeling on Athena, and on more days than not, he wanted to strangle her. It's a feeling you only wish on your worst enemies. 
“... And I hope the idea of me calling you Ares instead of dad terrifies you…”. 
It did. He never thought it would, but it did. Ares made many claims, like gods not dreaming or feeling fear but it was all false. Right now, he had a dream. A dream that this feeling would roll off him and he could go back to being how he was before. His fear was that that wouldn't be possible anymore. You cracked him. You broke his walls down but he was too late to welcome you in. He was too late to welcome any of his kids in. 
Everytime he tried to blame Zeus for his stupid rule, or Poseidon for welcoming you in before he did, it never stuck. He could only do so much blaming before he had to wake up and realize he wasn't fully innocent. None of the gods were perfect but some tried a lot harder than others. Why didn't he do that instead of convincing himself he didn't care for his kids?
“... and if you hate me I am begging you to have mercy and leave me be. No visiting. I won’t come to see you when we do that little field trip either. I’ll stay at camp or I’ll go bother another god. Hermes is really nice. And if I break my end of the deal you can do whatever you want to me. Turn me into an ant, rearrange my fingers, throw me down a flight of stairs at full force, whatever”.
He didn't hate you. He understood that a little too late. All of his kids thought the same? He understood why, but fuck. He missed when he was just angry. He missed how he was before he stopped to check on you that night. 
“You think, but you don't know anything” he managed to get out. Ares wasn't the type to cry, but his mind was going so fast and it was hard to slow it down. Each word that came out of your mouth twisted a knife inside of him more and more, and the injury was so severe, he could genuinely feel it. 
“Then tell me what I don't know”. 
Should he? Should he say anything? Should he tell you that he was sorry and he wanted to make things right, for not only you but for all of his children? Should he comfort you? Should he admit he was wrong? Should he go back to having a personal relationship with his children? Should he go back to fully mourning them when they passed?
No. 
What good would it do? Would he end up like Hermes? Paralyzed with grief for a son that wasn't even dead yet? Would him changing even mean anything anymore? He tried to be better, then what? He didn't even know how. He'd string his children along, making them believe it'd be better, then he'd be reminded of their impending deaths or the fact that gods couldn't be too close without there being a problem. Then he'd stop. Then his kids would push away harder. Then he'd be Ares, donor to many but father to none. 
“Sally's been waiting outside so…”
Wouldn't it be better this way? Let his favorite go and move on? Let the child that tore down his walls go and work on building them back up? Go back to being the Ares people expected?
“Yeah” he answered himself out loud. He let out a breath as he felt another twist inside him. “You want this?” he asked. 
“No” you said instantly. That voice wobble again… he was so much happier when people were angry with him. Anger he could take and give out, but he couldn't remember the last time someone was disappointed in him and he couldn't remember the last time he broke someone down without trying.  “No I don’t but this just seems like the best thing to do”. He didn’t argue with you even if he wanted to. 
Your hand went to reach inside your pocket for money but then he spoke again “keep it”.
Money was the last thing on his mind. 
“It’s no problem-”.
“Just keep it”.
You nodded. 
It fell silent for a moment. He could've just left, but he stayed seated. Ares from a couple years ago would probably feel lively and free, but Ares today? He felt like something was crushing him and that was hard to do. 
“Can you do me a favor?” 
“Another one?” he responded lifelessly. Pretending to be unaffected was exhausting, and he was beginning to feel the effects. 
“It's not a favor if you don't wanna see me either”. He didn't respond. He didn't feel like lying anymore. “Can we do that thing mortals do? You know, when they hug and say they love each other before they go their own way? Or maybe just the ‘I love you’ part”.
He stared at you as he debated on what to do. One on hand he knew if he did as you asked, it'd be harder to let you go. On the other hand, a war was brewing and if you fell in battle, he knew he'd have forever to live with the regret of not hugging you. 
So he stood up. 
You stood up. 
It's strange how something Ares hadn't done in years could feel so right. Like this was how it was always meant to be. Like he was always supposed to be the type of father that was so present, that his kids would hug him regularly. 
He felt warm. He didn't know how else to describe it. He was just warm. Imagine it's a freezing cold day and you're walking home from school. You walk and walk, trying to ignore how numb your hands feel and the cold nipping at your nose. The cold is terrible, but you remember you left the heat on and that idea alone warms your body and keeps you moving. That's how he felt as he held you. 
“I love you dad”. It was natural. He wished he heard it more often. 
Go back to the scenario from before. 
You get home, so excited about the heat, only to find out the heat is off. Maybe you turned it off and forgot. Maybe someone in your house did. Either way, it was off and the inside of your house is just as bad as outside. The cold feeling seems to get worse now that the warmth of hope is gone. That's how he felt when he said “I love you too”. 
He meant it, but that warmth faded when reality hit. This was it. There would be no more talks like this. This was only the second time and your talks never went the best, but he still valued them. Maybe he was wrong to have favorites and maybe he was wrong to feel so hurt when he caused this but he was in agony anyway. 
When the two of you pulled away and you left, the knife twisted one final time then cut straight through him. He watched as you left for a moment before he looked away and sat back down, the emptiness becoming loud. 
You wanna know how to keep your sanity intact as a god?
Don't care about your children. 
Don't care about anything. 
Stay detached. Stay far away. Stay to yourself and a few other gods you can tolerate. Don't think about your children. Put your walls up and don't ever let them down. 
Stay angry. Don't feel sorrow or sadness. You'll live forever and the chances of that grief getting better are slim. Stay angry because at least you'll look intimidating instead of weak. Let people make their assumptions. 
Just. Don’t. Care.
But as Ares looked to the side, towards an empty booth with a window that perfectly showed you sobbing in Jackson's car, and your seemingly new family being there for you… he wasn't sure he could do that anymore. 
Y’all I swear they will have a happy ending… just not right now. But before y’all beat my ass, y’all knew damn well this part had no chance of being happy. The happiness is coming! I swear! I think I got everyone on the taglist.
Taglist: @kyuupidwrites @chadmeeksmartinswifey @lebguardians @beansficreblogs @itzjustj-1000 @white-wolf-buckaroo @elsisenta @leathesimp @marshymallo
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fanttasttica · 3 months
Text
Family
Helion x reader, Rhysand x daughter reader
You never knew your parents and yourself. One day you decide to leave your home and try to find something about yourself and your family. You come to the Day court, where you meet their cunning High lord, who also happens to be your mate. But your mate isn't the only person you found..
warnings: mentions of nudity
words: 2764
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It was a nice summer day. A wind gently caressed your cheeks, as you were looking at your friends, who were enjoying the day with their families. Fathers, mothers.. siblings. That was a luxury you have never known. You never knew your father or mother. The closest thing you had to parents were Christian and Lucille, who found you one day and raised as their own. You actually thought they were your parents, until they came clean when you reached your eighteen birthday. They knew you deserve the truth. Since then, you were jealous and happy at the same time for your friends, who had families on their own. You were watching them from a smaller distance, as they were laughing together wishing you could have something like that too. Not that you were not grateful for Christian and Lucille, you loved them but.. You wanted to find out who your parents were. Whose violet eyes were looking at you in the mirror? Did you have the same black hair as your mom? Was your smile similar to the smile of your father? Those were questions you earned an answer for.
You grew up in the mountains in Night court. Your village was quite small, nothing extraordinary here. It was not far from the borders the Night court shared with the Day court. You could walk there maybe after two or three hours. That means that sometimes you meet people traveling between these two courts. People who were more than willing to share stories. That was how you found out about Amarantha being dead. You knew her, of course you did. Everyone in Prythian did. She trapped all High lords under the mountain, took their powers.. They were helpless until one day a human girl named Feyre freed them. You were fascinated by her story. She was now your High lady, finally being happy with Rhysand, your High lord and you found that really nice. That they found each other after all that. You heard all stories about them and about other High lords and interesting people from travelers, merchants.. You were always listening to them very carefully, until one sunny day, when you decided to stop being the listener and become the traveler, narrator, yourself. It was an opportunity to get to know new places, people.. and maybe find out something about your parents.
“Are you sure you want to go? I mean..it can be really dangerous.” You smiled at your friends. “I am sure. I love you guys, I love this place but.. I just want to try and find out something about my parents, about me. And I think that's the thing I cannot accomplish here.” She sighed and nodded as a sign that she understands you. “Well.. I will not stop you, if that is really what you want. Just.. be careful and don't forget us.” You hugged her tight, trying to find back tears. “How could I ever forget you? You are my best friend, sister, even though we don't have the same parents. I will never forget you, don't worry. And also.. this isn't definitely the last time you see me. I will come back.”
It has been almost two months since you left. After almost a month of traveling, you came to the town which was surrounding the palace of Helion, the Day court´s High lord. Probably the sexiest male alive. You had only seen him once, from afar when he was walking and talking with some of his friends near the shop you worked. You found a job in a smaller café, simply because you needed money and you also quite quickly fell in love with the city and wanted to spend some time here. You weren't sure how long you were going to stay.. A few months? Year? But it didn't really matter. Your job did not only provide you with the money , no. It also helped you meet a few nice people you befriend and could spend time after work. It was nice, the days were not the same as in your old village. Every day brought something new, new skills you learned, new friends.. But the one day that stood out above all the days.. was the one when you met your mate.
It was almost noon when the bell rang and he walked into the café, where you were currently working. Helion stood in the doorway and was looking around the place as if he was searching for something, or rather someone. And then, suddenly, he looked at you, his already big smile grew even bigger. At that same moment, you felt something in your chest, in your heart. Mating bond. It snapped immediately, taking the air from your lungs. You blinked a few times, not daring to move or look away from his gaze as he walked closer to you. “Hello my little sunshine.” 
From that moment, you didn't spend a day without a stolen moment with Helion. You found out that he already knew about the mating bond. It snapped for him a few minutes before he came in, as he was casually walking around the café. He saw you and needed only a few minutes before you he plucked up the courage to go talk to you. You decided to take things slowly. He was coming to the café, where you chatted when you were working. After a week he invited you to a date, to a beautiful restaurant, theater, then he took you on the picnic.. And that's basically how you ended up waking up in his large bed, with nothing but sheets on your naked body. 
You two were seeing each other for almost three months. It was already winter, but that did not bother you. Helion was hugging you, his big and warm body was better than any blanket in the whole world. You were enjoying this quiet morning in his embrace, when you felt he was already waking up. His breathing changed and grip on you strengthened, as if he also wasn't ready to wake up and leave your bed. You giggled at him, whereupon he grunted. “Is there something funny, sunshine?” You sighed happily. “Just one certain High lord who is behaving like a little child who doesn't want to share his toy with anyone else.” He chuckled, turned you around, so you were now lying on your back on the comfortable mattress and he was towering over you in all his glory. You bit your lips at this sight. “But I don't want to share you with anyone else.” He started placing soft kisses on your neck, which was full of hickeys from the previous night. “I don't think that's possible. My shift is starting in an hour and you also have a lot of work.” You argued, trying to keep your thoughts clear, even though the idea of ​​spending the whole day with your mate in bed was more than tempting. “That's why I want you to quit. You know I can take care of you, I want to take care of everything you need or want” This time it was you who chuckled at his idea. “And what would I do? Spend all my time in your bed, waiting for you to return? It would be boring.” You caressed his beautiful face. Admiring his beauty, before he spoke again. “You could always come with me to the meetings, sit on my lap and warm me.” He winked at you, as you punched him slightly in his biceps. After that his face grew more serious. “I love you Y/N. More than my court, more than the sun, more than everything else.. Just say you want this and I promise I will give you everything in the world. I will make you my High lady. My equal. Just one word is enough.” 
It wasn't that hard a decision. You loved Helion with your whole being. You couldn't imagine a day without him. So you finally agreed. You gave him your answer that day, in the evening, when you served him dinner made by you. It was simple, private and even though Helion was known for parties, he really appreciated this. Mainly because after the meal he could immediately take to to the bedroom and fuck you all night without any disturbance. The only thing that was left to declare you his High lady. You urged him to wait a little. When you officially accepted the bond you also moved to his palace the next day and you simply wanted to get used to the new surroundings and to the bond, which was now stronger than before. He of course agreed to your wishes. But you still were slowly making plans for the celebration, because you decided to make this event publicly. Helion thought that it was only fair for his, yours, people to have an opportunity to witness this moment, when the first High lady of the Day court was crowned. And believed him, wanting to also make people happy, to make a good first impression and that was probably not possible if you were hiding in the shadows on that important day. You also decided to invite your and some of Helion's friends, which also included some other High lords and their families. You personally invited Thesan - High lord of the Dawn court, High lord of the Winter court and his wife, Tarquin, who was Hugh lord of the Summer court and lastly.. High lord, High lady of the Night court and their Inner circle. 
Before every meeting with other High lords you were incredibly nervous and Helion was trying to calm you down as he could and he was successful, but this time.. It was different and you weren't sure why you felt this way. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, your hands were sweating.. Maybe because you were supposed to meet the only other High lady that existed? Or maybe you were just nervous because you have heard a lot of stories about all of them? Rhysand was the most powerful High lord, his mate had powers of all seven High lords and her sisters were made by the Cauldron.. Not mentioning Cassian and Azriel, who were alive for more than five hundred years and killed more people than you have met in your lifetime. “Don't worry Y/N. They are really nice and don't bite more than me and you are already used to that.” Helion winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him. This was something about him that you absolutely loved and at the same time found annoying. He was such a flirt. “I know and I believe you. Honestly.. I am not sure why I am so nervous.” You as and at the same time tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Before your mate could respond to you, you heard the sound of the door opening. You looked behind you and to your surprise you met the same eyes you had  and they stared back at you in shock.
There was silence as the others entered the room as well. They were looking at you with shocked expressions and you returned it, mainly to the man that had the same eyes as you. And after a few moments you noticed that the eyes were not the only thing you shared. You also had the same hair, similar features. In the end it was Helion who broke the silence. “I.. I never realized that.” It wasn't surprising he was not very receptive to these things. “That's.. How?” High lady asked, turning to face her mate, who also finally recovered from the shock. “I have no idea, Feyre darling.” He took a few steps towards you. You looked at Helion, not sure what to do. What to say. Was it even possible? Was this really your father or was it some cruel joke made by the Cauldron? How did it happen? “It's her.” You heard a sweet voice from the group. A girl, a woman, in a pink dress came closer. You shared a confused look with your mate. “The girl from my visions. Rhys's daughter.” 
To this moment, the only person who almost made you faint was Helion but when that woman said those words.. You had to grab your mate's strong arms, because otherwise you would be laying on the ground. This did not go unnoticed by your father and your mate, who grabbed you by your waist, holding you firmly. It was not only supporting in standing, it was calming you at the same time. Your father looked with worry. “Are you okay?” He asked you, you nodded in response. “I am, it's just.. a shock.” He smiled at you. “That's understandable. It's a shock for both of us. Well.. for all of us. He turned to his mate and Inner circle, as if he was having a quick conversation with them. After that, they came closer, introducing themselves with bright smiles. You have learned that the lady who was obviously a seer was Elaine, sister of your father's mate. It was Feyre who introduced herself to you last. It was a little bit weird for you, since she was a little bit younger than you and practically your step-mother, but she seemed nice. “By the way, what are you doing here? And how did you find my daughter, Helion?” You almost forgot they didn't know. Inviting High lords to your celebration was also a moment when Helion introduced you to them as his mate for the first time. He looked down at you and you gave him a simple nod. “Well.. she is my mate. And also my future High lady. We wanted to invite you to the celebration personally.” 
Once again, they were shocked, especially your newly found father, who was looking between you and Helion. You wanted to say something. Something that could make this situation a little bit less weird, but couldn't find the right words. In the end, silence was broken by Cassian's and Morrigan's augh. “Well, I did not see that coming.” Your aunt said with amusement in her voice. You smiled nervously, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the thin air. “Congratulations, it's amazing.” Feyre told you kindly and shook Rhysand's hand, so he would wake up from his trance. “Yeah.. congratulations.”He looked from you to Helion. “You better make her happy.” His words warmed up your heart. It was nice of him to look after you only after knowing you for maybe ten minutes. Maybe you were an adult, but that didn't mean you couldn't create a loving bond with him. After the first shock, you finally felt happiness. You had a parent! A father! And at that moment you realized something. With a hope in your eyes you turned to Elaine. “Do you also know who my mother is?”
The smile on her face and the faces of the others froze. Well, except for you and Helion, since you didn't know anything. Elaine swallowed hard, making eye contact with both your father and Feyre, again having some type of silent conversation. After a while, your father sighed. “Your mother.. Well.. Things get a little bit complicated here.” He breathed out. “Maybe you already heard of her. It is.. Amarantha.” It had to be incredibly hard for him to say that. After he said that, he looked away, hurt from memories that came back only after saying her name out loud. 
Of course you were in shock after finding out who your parents were. Being the daughter of the most powerful High lord and also a person who imprisoned not only him, but also your mate and a lot of other people.. Being the daughter of the person who killed and who was the main villain of many people's nightmares wasn't the best thing that could happen to you. But you were lucky to have your mate and also your father on your site. After finding out, you were really sad, angry, ashamed and also worried about what other people would think. What would Helion think? But luckily, he didn't care at all. He supported you, when you were recovering from the news and trying to accept them. He supported you when you tried and later successfully created a bond with your father, but also Feyre and their Inner circle. You were very lucky to have him, to have all of them. You finally had your own happy family.
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somnambulic-thing · 17 days
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Sometimes I am really sad about the subtext, meaning and depth that gets lost whenever (potential)/(ex)love interests have a scene together and all the shipping madness interferes with actually getting to the core of a scene.
Like the six little nuggets scene.
Steve Harrington, who's a teenager with normal teenage problems to solve and to grow from, who was close to death so many times in the past four years, who only ever loved one person and since then has been on one date after another unable to establish a connection with meaning again, who upon driving a stolen mobile home, covered in cuts and bites and bruises to prepare for interdimensional battle sitting next to the only person he ever loved gets sentimental about his future.
About what could have been. What he probably had once dreamed about in the quiet of his bedroom and now, in this very exact moment in this stolen mobile home with the possibility of death around the corner, he dreams again. Of a future.
Does it matter at this moment in time how he and Nancy parted?
Does it matter that both of them know that this future isn't going to happen because of who they are, who they are to each other and what lies ahead of them?
Does it matter that Nancy didn't tell him to stop, didn't tell him: No, Steve, never, Steve! while her friend was scared to die and grieving?
What matters at this moment is that Steve Harrington wants to live!
What matters at this moment is that Steve Harrington needs something to cling to to not lose his mind in a mind-bending situation and it happens to be the fantasy of a teenager who has barely lived at all.
I love that scene.
And every other scene that Steve and Nancy share in Season 4. Because they care for each other after everything that happened, because they find each other again in this moment in time to be there for each other in crisis. Are there emotions flooding back in? Of course. Nancy and Steve are caring, loving people. And after everything that happened since Season 1, it would be odd if there weren't some sparks of tenderness. Some soft looks. Some oh's and ah's about the way the other changed and in what ways they haven't.
People are complex, teenagers are messy, emotions are what they are.
I know it's become a common custom to call the Duffer brothers and their team bad writers and I strongly disagree with that notion. (could write an essay just about that)
There is so much depth in those stories.
Steve wants to live. He wants to live so badly.
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orkbutch · 8 months
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Okay! time to add my accompanying essays with each image from this set of work about why I assigned which types of play to each set of characters, and how Baldur's Gate III supports these in the text of the game. Because I thought about all of this way too much im not joking
First, Context:
All of these are drawings of consensual play happening between these characters after they have put aside any active conflicts between each other. Nonetheless, they utilise the dynamics and emotional conflicts of these characters. Each of these characters are in some way violent people, deeply stressed out by their circumstances, and craving pleasure and connection. Sometimes you need a little pinch and squeal before the end of the world just to get through the night, you know?
Knife play; Shadowheart (D) / Lae'zel (S)
This is definitely the best supported concept in the text of the game because we literally see this happen, though in a significantly different context. I'd say most of us thought it was hot, whether we realised it or not, and I think Shadowheart and Lae'zel probably agreed once they weren't worried about dying! I think its the perfect encapsulation of the tension between SH and LZ both early on and as it resolves. It also expresses both their personalities very succinctly and accurately. SH is absolutely an edgy, paranoid goth, and LZ would love the thrill.
For all the early game SH sees LZ as ruthless and dangerous to her, and resents Gith for the death of her peers. LZ is a threat she wants to neutralize or at least control. At the same time, SH is someone who prefers to avoid conflict and subtly occupy power/advantage in most situations she finds herself in. She has little concern for honour, pride or fairness.
Lae'zel absolutely does. She is a very straight forward and efficient person. For her, SH starts as an inconveniently racist coworker, but at the reveal of the artifact SH becomes more than that; not only has she insulted LZ's people, she's revealed herself to be untrustworthy, very willing to lie and play dirty. Not only does SH seem to hate her, but SH has rules and intentions that are entirely unknown to LZ, and that is obviously frightening.
AND SO I JUST THINK... that potent history would be very hot background for fear based play, which knife play is all about. The heart-racing threat of the point of a dangerous object held at your most tender areas - throats, armpits, mouths, bellies... and the depth of trust and submission to let that occur, to sit in the fear and really enjoy the rush of danger and helplessness, knowing you will be safe. It shows a profound growth in their regard for eachother, a true and total overcoming of old resentments and conflicts.
This is not only a position I think SH would relish - to reduce someone as deadly as LZ to being at her mercy, and to feel deeply trusted with someone's life and pleasure - but also a rare delight for LZ. To take the heart-thumping threat of a battlefield, which she absolutely thrives in, and to toy with and explore that mental space. To be truly stripped back and placed in anothers hands. For that to be an enemy who has become someone she feels so completely safe with.
Beneath this I think there is also a thread of empathy and shared idiosyncratic communication between them. They were both cruelly broken into roles that made it difficult for them to connect to others. Violence is a language both of them understand very well, in different ways, and even after they each turn on their cruel masters, violence retains meaning for them.
For SH, violence is to be enacted and more often endured as a sign of devotion. It's something that carries wisdom, the agony of lessons learned and knowledge that is uncomfortable but ultimately good for you. I don't think this is something she decides is wrong. I think what disillusioned her (beyond the betrayal of being lied to) was how Shar was revealed to have misused her pain. Shar's pain was not a gift, it had no loving measure or purpose. It was a spiteful, excessive control tactic.
I like to imagine SH learning a new way to use her affinity with pain, which I think is a very normal affinity for people to have. To learn how to use pain the way she had wanted it to be used and had come to admire. To make pain bespoke from Shar, her own gift to give and recieve on her own terms.
For LZ, violence is to be mastered for survival and superiority. Pain was only endured to prove you could endure it better than others. Violence is a hammer in a world where all beings are nails, except you and the few other hammers. All else was forsaken for this mastery. Even in sex violence and superiority are key. Vulnerability is terrifying, to make yourself a nail made to be driven by hammers who are certain of their purpose.
What else could be a greater liberating thrill, a more profound sign of trust for LZ? Willing submission to the violence of another. Those she comes to truly love become the source of her bruises. In submission to violence LZ embraces true vulnerability, untethered by tradition, opening herself to another person and trusting them to handle her with care.
In conclusion: These bitches love knife play, it gets them super hot and they feel rly connected after and share wine and cheese and maybe a massage if they have energy as aftercare. LZ will be cuddled but only if SH doesn't ask and just does it. LZ always makes sure to tell SH she admires her skill and had fun. Its very sweet
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thedemonscrawler · 2 months
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I'm just gonna do this to Ruin
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LIKE. YES I KNOW HE DID EVERYTHING WRONG. BUT HAVE YOU CONSIDERED HOW SAD HE MIGHT BE ABOUT IT
Like aaaaa I'm cursed to only like characters when they're losing I guess, and a Pyrrhic victory counts as a loss. I didn't CARE about this guy when he was the main antagonist, and then Eclipse 3.0 chucked him in the back of a car and kidnapped him and I was suddenly interested. And NOW, when everyone is very much upset about Solar, I'm off to the side shaking this bastard around because we finally got some concrete answers to what's going on in his head.
Just! This whole thing-- this is an exceptionally Moon thing for him to have done. To go 'I'm going to completely and totally remove this possible threat from ever occurring, and I'm fine with being the bad guy to do it'? That's some Old Moon kind of thinking. This wasn't a plan he came up with in the past few months, this took him years.
And speaking of years! Fifty years of playing pretend! Of acting like you enjoy hurting people, that you don't care as your body literally falls apart around you. I'm not a fan of the idea that he was never infected, I like the perspective better that he was infected, it just wasn't as responsible for his behavior as he made it out to be-- but still. At some point he had to have gone numb to it for the sake of his own survival.
What does that do to your mentality? Your outlook? What's it like knowing that your whole world was brought to its knees by your creator? What's it like being the only semi-stable person you know for half a century? What's it like realizing that you're also changing, and not for the better?
He's just... so painfully isolated, in a way that Eclipse doesn't even come close to touching.
And! And even after being 'cured'! He's still isolated! Like it was a good thing he WAS up to something-- can you imagine how crushing it would be if he'd been genuinely not doing anything, and he was still treated with suspicion for a solid like 4 months? By probably the most consistent group of animatronics he's had to talk to that weren't infected with a weird virus?
Like, the man didn't get repaired until 3 months after being cured, after Solar made a blueprint in his spare time. He didn't get a bed until Moon felt guilty about rummaging around inside his head-- and tbh I don't know if he ever got to actually use that bed. He let them call him Ruin.
Ruin never had a home in 'our' dimension.
And hhhhngh like I'm not even sure he cares, because he's past the point of caring. He's got one of Sun's worst traits as well, "There's no point in sharing what I'm thinking because no one is listening". He could have approached Moon and Solar with like "Hey okay so I started on this plan to do this thing like 10 years ago, I would like some input" and maybe an alternative could have been found!
But he didn't, because he's alone. He came up with the best plan he could, weighed the risks, and acted on it, all by himself. A single weird Eclipse against 5,000 Creators, because he felt like that was the greatest threat.
And like, lets be real-- Solar's death was 100% a narrative necessity. Otherwise we the audience wouldn't really care that Ruin had wiped so many dimensions from existing, it'd just be a number. That thing of like, you gotta make it personal to have impact. Very good storytelling right there.
(Though from a in-universe perspective, man it must have been an unpleasant shock to learn that of course the only other dimensional refugee was from one of the worlds you had to destroy. Like, come on, what are the odds)
He did something horrible. A multi-dimensional catastrophe to prevent a multi-dimensional catastrophe. He probably accepted the ramifications of it ages ago. He just... utterly lacks any hope, you know? No hope of forgiveness, no hope of improvement. He survived his world long enough to do this thing, and he has nothing else going for him.
He's just waiting for them to finally kill off his body, because he already died years ago.
Anyway I'm desperately trying to find an angle that can be used to maybe pull him out of his coffin here and so far I'm not seeing one qq but maybe future eps will give me something to work off of.
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hey can you do prompt 22 for chad please? hope ur okay!🤍
‘’What are you doing?’’ ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’
I'm so happy someone picked one of my favorite lines from the list <3 Do you get the reference?
my taglists are here  + you can requests (currently closed) here at any time
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You were sitting on Chad’s bed in your night clothes, waiting for your boyfriend to join you and watch a movie on his laptop. The end of semester rush was approaching and you wanted to spend as much time together before the beginning of the madness, hence why you were sleeping at his dorm tonight.
It was only your third time sleeping over, but your and Chad's relationship was fairly new. At least officially. You and him had been dancing around each other, flirting and sharing kisses at parties for months.
Although your feelings for each other were obvious, Chad was hesitant to take the relationship to the next level. He would constantly push you away when things would get too personal. Initially, you thought it was a commitment issue, but as you got to know him more, you came to the conclusion that maybe something had happened in his past and made him untrusty of people and reluctant to let anyone close.
Lucky for him, you were patient. And very much into him.
‘’You have practice early tomorrow morning. Are you sure this is okay?’’
Chad laughed fondly, moving around in the dorm. ‘’It’s only 8pm. We’re nowhere near my bedtime.’’
You played with the corner of his fuzzy blanket, not letting go. ‘’I just don’t want to disturb your routine by keeping you awake for longer than you should. I’d feel so bad if you were tired tomorrow because of me.’’
Shaking his head, Chad walked over to you, dropping a kiss to your lips. ‘’There’s two hours before I need to go to bed. That’s plenty of time.’’ He went over to the nightstand and plugged his phone. ‘’Besides, I’m probably gonna fall asleep during the movie,’’ he confessed, feeling the weight of his day.
Then, he fell on the twin-sized bed beside you without a care, causing the bedframe and mattress to squeak under his weight. College furnitures are not the strongest.
‘’What movie did you pick?’’ Chad reached for the laptop, the movement causing his shorts to ride up his thigh, exposing a part of his past.
‘’What’s that?’’ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, seeing a pinkish scar on the inside of his right thigh.
You weren’t particularly looking there. It just caught your eye.
The light mood shifted as Chad tensed, visibly uncomfortable at the mention of his scar. He quickly pulled the covers over his legs, hiding them from your view.
‘’I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked,’’ you apologized, genuinely feeling bad for bringing it up.
You should have known not to ask about the scar. People rarely want to talk about them as they are most of the time related to something you would like to forget.
Before the Woodsboro attacks, Chad was confident about his body. He liked to show off his toned chest and strong biceps on every given occasion. But now that seven scars decorated it, he preferred to cover it — either with a shirt or makeup he had stolen from Mindy.
He was tempted to lie and say he got it when he was little, but the truth was too big and important to be covered by a fake childhood story.
Chad drew a breath, about to reveal something that would stun you. ‘’Have you heard of the masked killer murders last year in Woodsboro?’’
You nodded, having seen some articles online about it.
‘’I…I was one of the victims. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived my injuries.’’
‘’Injuries? As in plural?’’
He nodded in turn. ‘’There's more on my stomach.''
You furrowed your eyebrows, not remembering seeing any scars there.
Chad read your expression and reached for the back of his collar to pull his shirt off.
Your eyes fell to his collarbones and pecs, then his stomach, which was indeed mauled with six pinkish scars. They were healed, but the raised texture indicated that they weren't that old. You gently brushed your finger over the lines.
‘’Do they still hurt?’’ you asked, flicking your gaze up.
Much to Chad’s relief, there was zero ounce of pity in them.
‘’No. But sometimes I have dreams about that night and I can feel the knife stabbing me…’’
The dark confession made your heart ache.
You got up and went to your backpack where all your overnight stuff was, leaving a confused Chad behind. You grabbed an eyeliner pencil from your makeup bag and returned to the bed.
‘’Lay down.’’
Chad’s frown deepened, but he did as told. ‘’What are you doing?’’
You brought the pencil to his dark skin and began doodling. ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101​ @vxnity713
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So, i don't know how you would react at this BUT, i just read all of your posts and i think you're really amazing while answering ask's, so i just thought it might be good to share with you a ( kind of? ) headcanon that i have about Silver.
Like, i don't know if it actually makes sense. And pardon me if there's any grammar erros, i'm quite bad at english.
BUT i just feel that he is pretty "incapable" of truly expressing himself, unless it's when his knight mode are on, but even in this mode, has some difficulties. ( and by incapable i mean he has some pretty relevant difficulties with expressing himself in a sentimental way ).
I just have this sort of feeling that his creation with two non-human ( and one half-human ) beings as he was human have a large impact on him mentally, specially because Malleus and Lilia are not the most open ones in terms of sentimentality and Sebek is just bad at this as them and also have some issues with expressing himslef and being sociable.
Like, despite all the efforts Lilia put to make sure Silver grew up to be a good person, he couldn't really be that good on the social and emotional part and Malleus weren't the perfect teacher of it either, not even Sebek. So Silver just grew up subconsciously trying to follow their behaviors and manners, while the culture from Biar Valley also moulded his way.
( and I also see Lilia as someone who hides his true feelings behind this mask of energetic and teasingly playful guy. )
The sleep curse might had put some extra inner barrier in Silver's mind, as or he is completely afraid to trying be sociable or he just are indiferent to this because he don't actually think he is capable of something like that due to the curse making him sleep anytime plus all the baggage of being raised in a country were his specie in not viewied with good eyes and being raised by people he eventually knew that would live a lot many years than him, that compared to them, he's really just a common human with a short lifespan. I doubt this hasn't fucked up his mind.
I don't remember if it's actually mentioned something detailed about his relationship with his club partners but, i do think he can be respectful and chit chat for a few minutes, but just having a long, deep and intimate conversation with someone might be too overwhelming to him, since he practically lived his entire life having constant interactions only with his family. He's just caught in this cycle where his adopted dad hide his true feelings, Malleus pretty much do this too and Sebek probably doesn't even think about how he really feels, so he just follow them and lock himself in his own bubble.
So, i really don't know if this make any kind of sense. But i would enjoy if you share your opinion on this silly headcanon i have.
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Hello and thank you for sharing your thoughts ^^
I originally wanted to keep this short, but I kept having more and more thoughts and continuously added to the post until it became an absolute behemoth 😅 I still feel like I could have said even more, but I’ll leave it at this for now.
Please look below the cut to read my response!! (Note: the focus will be mainly on Silver and Lilia’s relationship, as those two are usually the ones described as father and son + we know the most about those two as Silver grew up.)
Mmm… Firstly, I don’t know if “being incapable of truly expressing himself” is something that’s exclusive to Silver; this is a pretty consistent trait among the prideful students of NRC. They demonstrate this in different ways (Rook is secretive, the twins claim they would throw Azul away if he becomes boring, Jamil represses his desire to be free while serving Kalim, Cater does not outright tell Trey he wants to be besties but implies he wishes Trey were as close with him as he is with Riddle, etc.). Very few are willing to allow themselves to be vulnerable with one another, and this feeds into a lack of “deep and intimate conversations” amongst all of them, not just between Silver and his peers.
That being said, I do not believe that Silver generally has issues expressing himself. In fact, I would actually argue for the opposite: that Silver is one of the more open students (at least when it comes to his feelings). He has talked about his deep love and respect for his father on multiple occasions. He has many animal companions whom he communicates with. He has given various speeches about how he wishes for a world in which living beings of all races and live happily together. (This last example was vital in Fairy Gala: If; it was Silver’s heartfelt words that moved the pixies to return what they had originally taken from NRC.) He has said on more than one occasion that be is thankful for his father and owes him a debt, that he must somehow “repay” Lilia. He becomes concerned about not being alert and that others may think of him as rude for falling asleep mid-conversation and seeks to correct this. He also worries about his classmates thinking of him as scary and emotionless (and, again, tries to solve this problem). He sees the best in others, he lets them know it (for example, assuming that Jamil is worried about Kalim in Endless Halloween Night), and he gives earnest advice. He understands that Sebek’s abrasiveness is a way of hiding his embarrassment and expressing gratitude, knowing that, deep down, Sebek is caring—so Silver is patient with him and asks others to do the same. He has no trouble asking for help either (something which the other NRC boys have trouble doing). He openly demonstrates awareness of his shortcomings (such as how he always falls asleep at bad times) and is happy just knowing that others may lend an ear to him. He has a lot of tenderness that’s hard to find at NRC. Silver is simply earnest and speaks his mind, even if it can come off as blunt or perhaps a naive way of responding to the world. He has a very simple way of thinking and forming opinions (Vil asks him what’s the most beautiful? “You,” Silver says. Azul asks him what he thought of the food? “Good,” Silver says.)—and his lack of facial expression certainly doesn't help in conveying his emotions, no matter how earnest they may be.
The one major time Silver actively demonstrates repressing his emotions is in book 7, when he stows away his true sadness for the sake of seeing his father off with a smile. He breaks down when he’s away from the party and with Malleus, venting his frustrations about himself and how he cannot even fulfill his father’s final wish. Silver apologizes to Malleus for his “unsightly behavior”, referring to his tears, indicative of a negative emotion, as something to be ashamed of. This, in of itself, is not odd. There’s always a handful of subjects a person may feel uncomfortable talking about even with their friends and family. Maybe it’s finances, personal flaws, or failures. For Silver, it’s in relation to his life span and “owing” Lilia. That’s nothing unusual; most people are not willing to divulge everything to their loved ones; there’s typically something negative or shameful held back. (For example, Deuce wouldn’t be so eager to tell his mom about the violent outbursts he had at school since he’s trying to reform himself. I doubt the OB boys would be eager to tell their own families about their overblots, etc.)
What I deem to be Silver's greatest strength is his empathy, and I think that comes across in how he communicates. When he's talking with others, Silver is entirely emotionally capable, willing to hear them out, and even lend his support. Where he falters is when it specifically comes to matters of his place within his family (which is not present most of the time; most of the time, Silver is in that default empathetic state). This is a point of insecurity for Silver, and it is a large part of his character arc in book 7.
One can say Silver repressing his emotions related to this occurrence is a learned response due to a combination of things. For one, he doesn't want to disappoint his father by ruining his celebration with tears. (Silver cares a lot about others, usually prioritizing them over himself, whether it's putting their needs over his own or literally throwing himself in harm's way to defend them.) For another, Silver, as a human, may have developed insecurities or a complex from having grown up in Briar Valley, a place known to have a very low human population AND a history of war with humans (meaning it's possible that humans are discriminated against). I don't know if the "culture" of Briar Valley had an impact on Silver's communication, since we ourselves are not fully aware of what this "culture" is or how people normally express themselves. Just because fae can be standoffish to outsiders doesn't mean fae are standoffish to other fae when Silver happens to be in the immediate vicinity. We don't really know if Silver has previously expressed worries about the difference in his life span versus those of fae either, but I'd imagine this is something he had to learn for himself and come to terms with, much like the discovery of his adoption. I wouldn’t go so far as to say this "fucked him up" since it wasn't touched on or implied prior to book 7. Because of this, I don't get the impression that it's deeply concerning to Silver until the point it became relevant for his father and paying back the "debt" Silver feels he owes. (Then again, I acknowledge that perhaps these thoughts were not shared due to Silver's... unique style of communication.) I’m not going to speculate about the sleeping curse since we don’t fully understand how it works and I don’t want to make assumptions while I’m still uninformed.
While it’s true that Silver had limited interactions with people outside of Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek in his childhood, I wouldn’t attribute all of Silver’s characteristics to “he learned how to repress his emotions from them”. There were many other factors that contributed to the kind of person Silver would eventually become. His level-headedness comes in part from having to “grow up” fast since Lilia lacks the homemaking skills to look after him. Silver had to learn to cook (have you tasted Lilia’s food?) and clean (have you seen Lilia’s room?) in his place, as well as look after their cottage home whenever Lilia left on trips. He’s the calm that balances out his father. I’m not going to comment on Malleus since I’m not sure how frequently he visited Silver (which would impact the degree to which he affects him). Sebek, however, is also someone that Silver spent a lot of time with because 1) his grandpa already knows Lilia and 2) there are very few kids Silver’s age in Briar Valley. The circumstances just worked out that way. This also exposes Silver to Sebek and his family, as they looked after him on occasions when Lilia could not. Sebek’s two older siblings and parents, then, are also people Silver could look to as models. Otherwise, he seems to have mostly lived in their forest cabin and interacting with few living beings aside from the animals. He states that he rarely went to the capital (which we learn is because Lilia is banned from there) and that he didn’t even go to a middle school (implying Lilia home schooled him before NRC), so… yeah, he’s mainly isolated in the woods. This grants Silver a lot of time to slow down, to be introspective, and to consider both his own feelings and those of others. His awkwardness, then, may come from his social circle being small and not having an opportunity to interact with people beyond it. This creates a lack of awareness for how he may come off to others, as he’s so used to how acclimated Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek are to his usual demeanor. Silver doesn’t realize that his stoic expressions can read as unfriendly to others.
I think there are flaws in saying that Lilia is the type of person to hide his true emotions behind a smile: it’s true from the understanding of the PLAYER because we’ve learned in book 7 that Lilia kept secrets from Diasomnia. Silver’s origins, about the war, why he’s in a hurry to leave early, how Malleus hatched, etc. We as the players understand that Lilia tries to hide his own pain and suffering from those he loves. But… the issue is that Silver doesn’t know this (so how could he “copy” Lilia’s penchant for covering up his true emotions if he never picked up on the initial deception?). Silver fully trusts his father and does not really suspect Lilia of hiding anything from him (excluding maybe the occasional prank). Additionally, I would not conflate keeping secrets and hiding own’s emotions with discouraging sentimentality in Silver. Lilia has hard conversations with his son (like in book 7 right before he handed over the ring from Silver’s deceased parents), and that shows some degree of emotional intelligence and vulnerability. Isn’t he modeling a healthy way of dealing with feelings here? Isn’t Lilia right here, right now, telling Silver how proud he is of him? Lilia is able to be vulnerable too in these moments, regardless of what other secrets he may keep.
Another discrepancy is that both Lilia and Sebek (the ones whom Silver probably spent the most time with as a child, since Malleus had to stay in the castle and be trained and tutored) tend to “hide” their real feelings with very emotional methods (ie covering up one feeling with another feeling)—yet Silver himself didn’t learn to use do the same thing. If we include Malleus in the count, he’s the more consistently “emotionally repressed” character but still has his outbursts of rage and upset. Silver does not “copy” this either. He and Malleus are both calm, yes, but they come from different backgrounds which could breed this calm personality, not necessarily from one mimicking the other. (Silver was mostly in his cottage, Malleus is as in his castle.) This is, again, why I say that it would be faulty to attribute how Silver acts in large part or entirely to Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus. He has been impacted by far more than them and does not pull all of his knowledge on how to socialize from his dorm mates.
The last point I’d like to bring up is that wearing your emotions on your sleeve isn’t necessarily a good thing all the time, nor is it the only way one can express themselves. You can show your love through acts (Silver often thinks about what he can do to best support his father) or gifts too (Silver mentions Lilia puts a lot of thought into picking gifts for everyone). From this angle, we can see that Lilia (Silver’s primary caregiver and guardian) has demonstrated and taught healthy ways of expressing one’s feelings too, and how Silver is capable of reciprocating in his own ways.
Now, am I saying that Lilia and the others were perfect in modeling emotions to Silver? Obviously, no. Misunderstandings happened—but what’s important is learning and growing from them. For example, Lilia failed to understand that Silver might be hurt to learn that he was adopted and thus Lilia acted in a callous way by laughing. But given how their relationship in present day is not strained, we can surmise that Lilia and Silver made up and that Lilia has become more attuned to his son’s sensitivities (as Lilia states that he can easily read Silver’s emotions). Lilia says as much in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, telling Malleus that humans have different sensitivities than fae do. A lot of the values Silver had—such as the importance of unity among the races—must have also been instilled in him through Lilia and extensive talks. Again though, Lilia’s not perfect and sometimes he acts in ways which still earn Silver’s ire (Endless Halloween Night is a big one). Malleus himself also makes multiple mistakes when interacting with humans (overstepping with his powers, not paying attention to times, scaring them with his presence, not making an effort himself to reach out). Sebek regularly insults them despite being half human himself. (That’s a whole other can of worms; I’d recommend this analysis for my thoughts on Sebek and his whole deal.) But what I really love about the Diasomnia found family unit is that they balance out each other's flaws really well. Silver's empathy is a great asset to the group, as he's often the one settling disputes between Sebek and his peers or apologizing for Lilia's mischief. He's simultaneously the "heart" of the group and, to some extent, also the "brains" when the others need to be reeled in.
Ultimately, I don’t agree with the suggestion that Silver is “afraid of trying to be sociable”, is “indifferent to socializing”, or that “he doesn’t think he is capable of socializing”. I don’t think Silver would find long, deep, intimate conversations “overwhelming” either (unless, of course, it relates to his own particular insecurities. Recall that he has given those speeches about his hopes for all races to be united; that requires a degree of vulnerability on his part and Silver laid it out smoothly. Lilia has also had tough conversations with him too!). Silver is not a socially anxious person; I think it would be more accurate to say that he comes off in the eyes of his peers as someone who is hard to approach because of how stone-faced he is. Silver himself does not fear or shy away from socializing. He just speaks in a plain way to get his point across and because that’s how he communicates—it’s not the result of him wanting to close the conversation ASAP so he can get away. His sleepiness is another factor to consider (Silver worries others think of it as impolite), but it never outright discourages him from speaking to people to avoiding social interactions altogether to minimize the drowsiness impacting his life. He tries to find ways to stay more alert instead (trying to fix the root of the problem rather than a symptom of it)
I think an excellent encapsulation of Silver’s entire character is his Dorm Uniform vignettes; in them, Silver’s classmates express that they think he is unapproachable and that he has no emotions. Silver overhears these comments and becomes concerned that his peers do not like him, so he asks his friend, Kalim, and Jamil for help learning how to smile. We then learn through a series of comedic events that it is physically hard for Silver to smile or to make a different facial expression which matches his feelings more. What finally gets Silver to smile naturally is when he gets so lost in an activity that he isn’t even aware his expression has changed. Lilia and Malleus, who are watching him, remark on Silver’s uncanny empathy. Then Lilia says, “[Silver] conceals some powerful emotions beneath that poker face of his.” To this, Malleus corrects him: “I wouldn't say he actively conceals [his emotions], per se. I suspect he simply doesn't betray much emotion.” Lilia agrees: “I suppose that's fair. Not that I find him difficult to read, of course!” It’s then that Silver’s classmates realize they were wrong about him and they begin to act more friendly.
To summarize: Malleus outright says it in Silver’s Dorm Uniform vignettes; it’s not that Silver does not have emotions or finds it difficult to communicate in a sentimental way, it’s that peers tend to misread him because of his face and his frank way of speaking. He thinks a lot of the people around him and makes numerous attempts to adjust his behavior so that they are more comfortable being around him. He asks for help and offers help in return. His one weakness is not being able to fully come to terms with the fact that Lilia loves and accepts him as he is, that Silver IS enough for the family he now finds himself in. He may have learned things from Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek, but those three should NOT be held entirely accountable for Silver being the way he is. Several other factors played a role in shaping him to be the cool, level-headed knight we know and love. Silver is… Silver, and sometimes Silver is hard to read or struggles with self-acceptance! That’s just who he is, and that’s part of his appeal.
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batman-dc-imagines · 1 month
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I have a request for a victor zsasz x reader! I’ve requested this like 2 times to other writers but I love him so much🥺. Can you do an imagine of reader being Don falcones daughter and she’s victor’s significant other 🖤
Gotham!Victor Zsasz being the boyfriend to Falcone's Daughter!Reader
A/N: Not sure if this was the way you wanted the story to go but I hope this is appealing. Also Sofia don't exist, at least not in this specific fanfic.
Overview: Being the daughter of Don Falcone and girlfriend to his personal assassin.
Relation: Romantic
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The start of you and Victor's relationship was...complicated to say the least.
You both had grown a mutual attraction for one another and when you both found that out, the rest was history.
Fear of what your father would think, you wanted the relationship to be kept a secret until you could build up the courage to tell him.
On one hand, Victor liked the excitement of being in a secret relationship with THE Falcone's daughter.
On the other, he was hesitant to hide such a big thing from his boss.
He is loyal to Falcone but he loves you.
A lot.
It's probably not until 4-5 months later do you both get busted.
It wasn't Don himself who had caught you both but a servant had seen you and Vic in one of the many rooms of the manor, alone.
Sharing a little smooch.
You and Vic were both worried what Falcone would do but what shocked you both was him saying he already knew.
Or assumed a long time ago.
I guess you two weren't as good at hiding your affections like you thought you were.
Falcone has put a lot of trust in Victor over the years and if he had to pick someone to love you but also protect you, Victor would be his first choice anyways.
He knows that Victor is the most capable of protecting his little girl.
Now onto the actual relationship stuff.
Victor is much more open with his feelings and such now that he knows your dad won't murder him in the brutalist way possible.
Even if you were Falcone's daughter and people knew not to mess with you because of your last name, Victor would still be the one to remind them now that it's known you two are together.
He'll still do jobs for your father but he's now changed to being your personal bodyguard whenever your dad isn't needing him.
He'll be by your side almost 24/7.
He likes to train with you.
Fighting experience or not, he likes to teach you new skills whenever he finds the time.
Give's you one of his own personal knife to keep on you for protection and as a little reminder of him.
Brags a lot. Especially if he's standing on the sidelines watching you kickass, he'll such smirk and brag to the person closets to him saying shit like, "See her? That's my girlfriend," while said person is scared for their life.
If he's out doing a job for your father and you text him anything saying you need help, he's at your location in 5 minutes.
No matter where he is in Gotham, he's by your side in an instant.
Hell he's never moved so fast from one location to another for your dad like he does for you.
He doesn't get too jealous since he makes it very much know you're his but if for some reason someone does do you wrong or God forbid looks at you wrong, expect to see a missing poster of said person the next day.
At the end of the day, he's most loyal to you and he better be dead if something were to ever happen to you.
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lineli225 · 8 months
Text
Tomura's Kill count in Canon
I'm done with people calling Tomura a "sadistic genocidal mass murder who killed millions" BECAUSE HE ISN'T.
So, i finally decided to prove it my self.
So today I'll be listing EVERY person Tomura killed! With his reasons too.
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1- His father, his first intentional kill and one of the few he felt a thrill or pleasure, justified since he abused him.
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3- The two thugs, he killed them under AFO's pressure, and if you pay attention, he was wheezing during it the same way he did during his panic attacks.
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Time skip to the present:
USJ had no kills (despite his attempts), Stain's arc had no kills either (except some papers and a binocular, RIP). No kills even during Kamino, as he seemed to not even want to kill Bakugou.
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Tomura's first kill, chronologically, in the entire series, is ironically, only on the 4th season, and 11th story arc (Shie Hassaikai Arc)
4 kills so far, one of Overhaul's man, this kill was literally self defense (and revenge)
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5- The cop driving the police car, guarding the ambulance Ovehaul was in (we don't know if he died or just lost his hand though, it might not have even been intentional considering he aimed to the steering wheel)
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Then we have the Overhaul arm snatching scene, the only moment Tomura is shown as actually sadistic so far.
Totally owned though, Overhaul shouldn't have threatened him, killed and injured his friends
Then, we move to the MVA arc, where the real kill count starts
First, we have a unknown number of kills, when the league visits Creature Rejection Clan, there was around 20 visible members, assuming the kills where shared equally though the League, we can say Tomura killed around 5 or 6 of these guys.
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Which he did with no Sadistic glee, actually, so far, he either kills with no emotions, or seems bothered by it (Also, racists, so owned 💅)
Anyways, around 10 kills by now.
2 kills, then i could count 32 people, so 44 kills.
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Considering Deika had 110,000 Meta Liberation members, and that good part of these people had died by GigantoMachia, Twice, Dabi and others.
We don't know though, how many where killed by Tomura's decay wave.
In the end Hawks had reported around 9,946 MLA members dead
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I don't know if the kill wave should be counted though- since they weren't direct intentional kills
So by far Tomura has killed around 7,000 people, but none of them where innocent people (except that cop rip) People left alive:
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Now we move to the Paranormal Liberation War Arc
First kill being X-less, then once again a unknown number of both heroes and villains killed by the decay wave, let's count the visible/shown deaths.
Crust, these 2 guys, some of the list- around 15 kills by Tomura
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Since the city was evacuated, no one died besides a few heroes.
Tomura didn't kill anyone else during his fight against Endeavor and Izuku, so now we move on, with a kill count of around 61 visible kills and hmm.. 8,000 off screen?
I won't count any kill during the Tartarus scape since these where clearly by All for One
So we move to Stars and Stripes! Since here Tomura and AFO's personality where already half way, i'll count thise ones too. So more 2 kills here
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Then the final arc begins, but despite the absolute mess the fight against Tomura in the UA cage was- it had no deaths besides Bakugou.
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FINAL COUNT:
On screen kills by Tomura: 61 kills
Kills counting ShigAFO: around 64
Kills counting off-screen deaths: around 1,000 to 9,000
Bonus: Nine lol
Ngl, owned too
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Now you're probably thinking: uhh- that's still a lot of people.
But the thing is, he killed much less than it looks like, literally all kills where out of self defense or necessity, very few in the list where innocent people, the vast majority are villains, and he never killed for pleasure or in a act of sadism.
Actually, he had very good reasons to kill each one of them.
Yes yes, he did attempt to kill much more, but he didn't.. Even if he did kill "millions" because of Deika- he's still not the monster he is portrayed by some.
Like come on, if you had an entire city trying to kill you, you wouldn't try to defend your self in your way to rescue a friend? If someone threatened you and had brutally killed your friend and taken another's arm, you wouldn't feel joy in vengeance?
Anyways, Tomura is innocent
"The reason why he killed them or how he felt doesn't change the fact he killed them!"
If so same for Gran Torino's "killing is a form of saving" ass!
Like come on, look at him!
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Anyways, my job here is done 😌
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utilitycaster · 2 months
Note
do you really think the reason Imogen doesnt get as much meta as Caleb (who got every little detail discussed with thousands of notes!) is because people are afraid of a reaction, when its so obviously sexism?
The same reason she doesn't get the exact number of notes as Caleb? No. There's multiple reasons. I'm sure some is misogyny. Some is probably audience size for the respective campaigns, and some is simply accumulation over time - a post about Caleb from 2019 has had 5 years to gather notes.
But also. Are you fucking stupid. You literally showed up because of my tags to be kind of a dick in my inbox. I and multiple people who committed the grave sin of *checks notes* interacting with me were sent hate messages for hours on a Saturday night because I hinted in the tags that I kind of liked Fearne and Ashton as a ship while not being terribly into Imogen and Laudna, and some absolutely deranged loser decided this was an appropriate response. I was called out by someone who had made a blog specifically to block me when I responded to a reblog from someone else on a post I had made stating that Gelvaan was almost certainly not homophobic in canon and that treating Imogen's psychic powers as a metaphor for queerness has a lot of really unfortunate implications. And this hasn't even touched on that one person whose entire raison d'etre appears to be harassing every single person who doesn't think Imogen, Laudna, and their relationship is perfect; and who specifically made multiple alts to harass me. Like, the "It's Obviously Misogyny" people are genuinely putting more effort into being a dick to me than in writing meta about Imogen. You might be one of them.
I talk to many of my mutuals, some of whom really like Imogen, and yes, people do decide "you know, this could be interpreted by someone as too critical, and I don't feel like dealing with the heat" and keep that meta to the DMs or don't share it at all.
You know that post that Matt liked on Twitter that people have been, let's not mince words, jacking themselves off about ever since? If you actually try to say something with substance and evidence about how Imogen has Liliana's fear (the fear that meant that when Imogen begged her mother to leave the Vanguard, Liliana turned her own daughter down, claiming to need to stay with other children) or Delilah's love (which made her cruel, ruthless, and ultimately all-but doomed her) or Ludinus's desire for power (led him to commit endless atrocities) but resists these things in her desire to be a good person - and frankly, I think painting her with the same brush as Delilah or Ludinus isn't even true but I would love to dig into her similarities to Liliana - some asshole who smugly reblogs that post every time someone says "not to be controversial I think Imogen sometimes says things that could maybe be hurtful to other people I think" will throw a full temper tantrum and might send them an incoherent anon calling them a little hypocrite.
It's also fascinating because a lot of the tantrum-havers who will defend Imogen of even the most anodyne "perhaps this is not the most positive trait" and who will cite harassment Marisha received 7 years ago as a reason to not breathe a word of criticism about Laudna - and many of these people joined the fandom about 2 years ago if not sooner - will do this at the very people who have been supporting Keyleth since Campaign 1 was still airing. I mean, seniority doesn't mean anything but if you're lecturing people about something you weren't there for and they were? Clown behavior. Oh and a lot of those people doing the lecturing? Don't really like Keyleth very much, because she does things like "be angry" and "support Orym" and "have a measured viewpoint that doesn't match theirs" and "pretty clearly, along with Allura, who they also barely ever talk about, is directing Bells Hells along a specific path of that pesky moon plot because contrary to a weirdly widespread belief this is the moon plot campaign and not the baking cookies in a cottage campaign."
I mean, half these people forget about Fearne much of the time. The only NPCs I see many of them even talk about are the Vanguard generals and occasionally Abbadina when she's convenient for an argument. Not a damn word for Orlana or Birdie or Dancer or Weva or Rashinna, and they mostly treated Deanna, Prism, and Deni$e as nothing more than implements to shove Imogen and Laudna together but man do they have mountains to say about Bor'Dor. Hell, go to the blog of someone who whines about the way people treat Imogen and look through their meta, if they have it, and the vast majority of the time it's about Ashton and Orym and Ludinus and then they spend the rest of the time complaining about how The Big Mean Fandom is So Mean to Girls but they sure don't have much to say either because turns out if you can't say anything even remotely critical of a female character, it's really hard to write anything, and that's assuming they actually care about writing about female characters instead of just being an asshole, which as stated above is, in my mind, in doubt.
If you have ever spent a single second harassing actual living women online because you didn't like their thoughts on a pretend woman you are, at least in this specific scenario, easily the shittier person. Personally I am confident in my feminist bona fides through, you know, real world activism and how I interact with and support women and feminist causes socially, professionally, financially, and politically in my actual life, but yeah even I sometimes say "you know, I have thoughts about this thing regarding Imogen...but I've had a rough week and I don't feel like having one of the fandom tar pits on my ass" so I'll send my thoughts to a few friends and then idk, write about something else. And I'm pretty thick-skinned (this is the other problem with this strategy; you filter out the more measured and kind and sensitive people first and you're left only with people like me). A lot of people have flat-out given up writing about Imogen (or Laudna, much of the time) because they don't feel like dealing with backlash over some really mild statements. And because you send kind of dickish anons I suspect that it's more likely that you might be part of the problem than part of the solution. So no, it's not the only reason, but it's absolutely a significant one. Congratulations. You played yourself.
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I’m soo in love with your writing! Could I request a fic where vamp Tav had a cruel master too prior to being infected by the tadpole. However instead of being very guarded and practiced like Astarion, they’re just fearful of most things. And Tav starts to cling to Astarion because he’s the only one who understands what she went through. Give me all the angst lol
Crying in my cry these wounds will not heal CRRYY lol
Rated: M
Warnings: vampirism, killing, angsty, manipulation (unintentionally), degradation
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Dependent.
Ten years of constant isolation, of darkness within your cell, tortured and forced to drink the blood of people. Ideally, it takes seven years to break the mind of a strong-willed person, lucky for your master it only took two years. You broke the moment he turned you, he just had to clear the rubble and start building the ideal foundation of what he wanted from you: Complete dependence on him.
When you escaped, you nearly turned back on the first night before you were kidnapped by the Mind Flayers.
You have no idea how to be a vampire, that information was kept a secret. The rules, the customs, even the basic taste of feeding on mortals was never told to you. You drank blood from bottles or cups, you ate solid foods for the most part. Your master supplied everything…
When you tried to feed on a mouse or on Astarion, all you felt was both the pain of not feeding your hunger and the guilt. You are a monster, a monster who needs help like a newborn baby.
Which makes you frustrated, angry, and goddamn weak.
Worse is such behaviors then bleed into your interactions with the kindred. This dependency on Astarion.
The blood wine of a boar, a rat, a bear; animal blood is not as sweet as humanoid blood. And though you are grateful for being able to now function, your beast demands true subsidence.
Then you killed a Gur, a monster hunter.
Rather, Astarion had his fun then you both fed on the poor hunter. Gods, the sated feeling, the beast pleased to finally consume a worthy prey.
"Need something– Oh~, how cute." The beast craved more. Greedy. Insatiable. Your mouth shared the taste of fresh blood with Astarion as if it were natural to seek out the pleasures of the flesh.
It didn't get that far though, you pulled away before you made Astarion do something he probably doesn't want with someone like you.
"I thought you didn't like me."
You asked after saving the tieflings and destroying the heads of the goblin camp (goblins included).
"Now if I didn't like you, dear, we wouldn't have our pact."
Kill his master, he kills your master. The bonus is he is willing to teach you how to be a proper vampire (which is hard for him because you insist on having some moral code when it comes to feeding on people).
There was no sex that night. You are too shy. He found you after the party by chance on the outskirts of the camp, where you played your lute as you sang a song.
A sad one from what he can tell from the tune.
The lyrics are equally painful, vague with flowery words, yet the pain is there.
"You want to join me?" You say after finishing your song, "Thought you would be in the arms of someone by now." He sits beside you with his back facing the river, attention on you.
Astarion stays with you that night, you don't know why nor does he. It is like this bond between you two, kindred in blood bound by necessity. When the tadpoles are dealt with, you want to remain with him though you are not sure if he will let you.
The thought of offering yourself to be his spawn has crossed your mind… He will be a vampire lord if he kills Cazador and drinks his blood. You have no idea about where your master could be, but Astarion is strong. Stronger than you and could kill him.
Dependent.
You wish you weren't but you are at a disadvantage with the only advantage is keeping Astarion by your side. It hurts to be like this, using someone you would like to be friends with, you swear to make it up to him during this adventure!
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