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matan4il · 2 days

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The other day, I went with my rl bff to the Jerusalem branch of the Museum of Tolerance for an exhibition on the Hamas massacre.

This is the sight that greeted us. "Esthers of the world, rise up!"

It's a poster celebrating two women whose families had lived in Iran, one is Jewish, the other is Muslim, and both women ended up being murdered due to the Islamic regime of that country, even though the Jewish woman's family had escaped Iran and fled to Israel after the Islamic revolution. The face of each girl is actually a composite, made from many smaller pictures of her people who have lost their lives because of the Islamist regime of Iran.

I knew this right away, because I have shared a piece that was done about the poster and how it came to be almost 2 months ago.

"You don't understand!" my bff (who works as a teacher) said, all emotional, "She," my friend points to the Jewish girl on the left side of the poster, Shirel Haim Pour, "is the cousin of one of my students."

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities.

We go in and join the tour of the exhibition. The guide tells us it was built jointly with Malki Shem Tov, who is a well known name in Israel, if you work at a museum. Malki founded a "creative visual solutions" company with his brother Assaf, through which among other things, they helped build many Israeli exhibitions over the years. "His son..." the tour guide starts to say and I don't need more than that for something to click in my head. I know so many of the names, faces and stories of the hostages, and so Omer Shem Tov pops right away into my mind. I didn't make the connection before, but now I can only imagine what it meant for this father to work on an exhibition that recounts, among other stories, how his son was victimized and robbed of his freedom during this massacre.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities.

The opening wall has a huge time stamp, 6:29 in the morning.

The tour guide doesn't have to explain this number to Israelis, or why it's designed to look like an alarm clock display. We were all woken up on that fateful Saturday morning by the alarm clock of Hamas' rockets. And it doesn't matter what we thought or believed the day before, as the full scale and horror of the attack were starting to become known along Oct 7, we were all woken up.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and those atrocities. I know this, and still it strikes me, again and again.

There's an area dedicated to the pictures of one photographer who went to the south soon after the massacre. I knew some of them already, like the pic showing the bodies of 13 elderly Israelis, who were on their way to a tour of the Israeli south on that Saturday.

Some are new, like the pic of the door handle in one bomb shelter. I stop for a second, because now that I've moved into my new place, it hits me that the bomb shelter door was made by the same company. Suddenly, I feel like I'm inside the picture in a reality where the terrorists took a slightly different route on Oct 7. The door was photographed from inside the bomb shelter, and the bullets that pierced it, they had to have hit the personal holding it shut. The handle has blood stains on it, and it's broken off. I can only imagine how many hours this person held, and how much force they had to use, for that to happen. I know one thing, even without knowing exactly who this bomb shelter belonged to... If this person was on their own, they would have probably ended up surrendering rather than keep fighting to hold on to the handle this desperately. This was likely someone trying to keep their family safe.

One note retrieved from the body of a terrorist is on display. It says everything about the motivation of the monsters who committed these atrocities, and every word is purely motivated by antisemitism and religious zeal. The note is actually not in Arabic, as it may first appear, it's in Farsi, the language spoken in Iran, hinting at the source, the Islamist regime there, which doesn't care about the liberation of anyone, it aspires to create a global network of fanatic terrorism.

The translation: "You must sharpen the blades of your swords and be pure in your intentions before Allah. Know that the enemy is a disease that has no cure, except beheading and uprooting the hearts and livers. Attack them!"

There is a section dedicated to women's stories. The exhibition visitors spread out to watch the testimonies, each on a separate screen. It's a not like a forest, you can't really see it for the trees, and it's another moment of feeling overwhelmed because we can't truly get it. It's just not comprehensible, facing so many stories about intentional, face to face cruelty, brutality, sadism and joy in it. Mali Shoshana tells the story of how she tried to play dead while lying shot in a pool of her own blood, but her body wouldn't stop shaking, so she somehow turned on her side to the wall and knocked her injured knee against it, causing herself to pass out from the pain. It saved her life. Ricarda Louk tells the story of the last message they got from her daughter Shani, trusting she was right and there was nothing for them to worry about. Then Ricarda's son started screaming and crying, because he saw the same vid many of came across on that day, of his sister being dragged into Gaza stripped down, mutilated, abused, molested and humiliated, while Gazan civilians were celebrating the public degradation of her body. And there's more and more and more. "You can come back and continue to listen," the guide promises as he moves us to the next segment, but the truth is no matter how many stories I've listened to and absorbed, it still doesn't feel like enough.

There is a wall with the head shots of the victims in Israel who lost their lives due to this war, whether they were murdered on Oct 7 or since, but it's only been updated up until Mar 27 of this year. Even so, no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't fit in all of the pictures.

Interactive screens allow a geographic telling of the massacre's story. They show maps of Israel's south, with dots on them, red for the murdered, dark blue for hostages, bright blue for hostages who have been returned, grey for the injured. You can tap a dot and read a story. Or you can zoom out and try to comprehend how is it possible for there to be that many dots on the maps.

"From darkness to light," reads the exhibition title. That's the perception of time in Judaism. We always move from darkness to light. And there's a section for the light, for stories of resilience, of bravery, of rehabilitation, of mutual support and caring. Filmed interviews that do their best to summarize an incomprehensible amount of good we've seen in response to an incomprehensible amount of evil. It features people from every demographic in Israel, and in that way also serves as a reminder of just how diverse we are as a society.

This part, I think to myself, was included for visitors from abroad. We Israelis, we know.

There's one story I know already. Tomer Greenberg, an Israeli officer, rescued on Oct 7 baby twins from the carnage. He was later killed fighting in Gaza. Like a puzzle, I've heard this story from several angles, including from Tomer before he died. This movie features an interview I hadn't heard yet, with the volunteer paramedic that Tomer handed the twins to. Shalom, this medic, talks about how they clung to him desperately as they got to be fed and feel safe and cared for again for the first time in what's estimated to have been 14 hours. I'm sitting there, thinking of those babies crying, not understanding why their parents aren't coming to feed them, and I don't know how to deal with this.

Shalom shares that the experiences of Oct 7 have inspired him to try and become a combative soldier, something that wasn't on the cards for him before that. I wonder again at people who can act like subjecting an entire (already traumatized) society to a sadistic massacre can liberate anyone.

And I understand Shalom fully. When your family is in the pits of hell, there's nowhere you want to be other than there, with them, doing what you can, rather than sit and watch helpless from afar. Most people would say he did a lot on that day. Shalom must have felt like that still wasn't enough.

At the very end, visitors are invited to add their own little piece of light, through neon notes and pens on which they'd share their thoughts. Nothing feels like it can sum everything I'm thinking and feeling up, but not writing anything feels worse, so my bff and I add a few of our words to the notes.

I don't have any profound conclusions for this post anymore than I did for my note. I just know that this still hurts, that we're still losing people daily, that we can't begin to heal, because we're still in the middle of the wound being inflicted. But I also know that we WILL heal, that even if the wound can't be closed yet, our collective immune system kicked into action on Oct 7 already, that we will continue to share the pain and the comfort and the care, and this massacre and war will probably never stop hurting, that we'll never be the same, but eventually we will be alright. Where people choose to care, there's just no other option.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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myjustice · 6 months

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i will never forget how this fandom treated nabu malikata for not reciprocating king deshret's feelings of affection. she genuinely did not understand the concept behind the emotion of love, how was she ever to reciprocate something she could not understand nor grasp.

but this is just me & my bias more than likely because i am easily suckered in by the unrequited love trope.

#ooc. ( ready...action! )#watched a friend's stream where he was going through the things he collected in sumeru & his findings #it just brought back a lot of memories from when sumeru was still slowly unraveling #so much of the fandom made it sound like nabu malikata just did not care for deshret #she did care that was her friend but she just couldn't return the emotions he had for her #because she didn't understand what those emotions even were or what they meant or why it was he even saw her the way he did #i'm rambling in the tags i'm sorry but it was an enjoyable stream #it refreshed a lot of sumeru backstory & lore for me #also i thought the unrequited love trope was popular?#so it caught me so off guard that so many people got so defensive over her not feeling the same way #it could just be me again because i'm a huge fan of that trope

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sapphic-agent · 3 months

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Let's Talk About How Book 3 Ruined Aang

If you've seen any of my prior ATLA posts, you know that I don't hate Aang. In fact, I quite liked him in Books 1 and 2. He was flawed, as all characters should be, but the show didn't shy away from those flaws or justify them. He was called out for burning Katara and rushing his firebending, Sokka and Katara were rightfully upset when he hid Hakoda's letter, he willingly owns up to the fact that his actions helped drive Toph away, and his entire arc after losing Appa and finding hope again in The Serpent's Path was beautifully done.

(Hell, even in The Great Divide Katara says what Aang did was wrong and he agrees. It's played for comedy, but the show still makes the effort to point out that what he did wasn't the right thing to do. You're just meant to understand that he was fed up and acted off of that)

Those flaws and mistakes were addressed and improved upon and helped Aang to grow as a character.

But for some reason, that aspect of Aang's character was completely flipped in Book 3.

The best examples of this are in both TDBS and EIP. Both the show and the fandom are too quick to brush off that Aang kissed Katara twice without her consent, one of which after she explicitly said she was confused about her feelings.

(And yes, she is angry in response and Aang calls himself an idiot. But after this, it isn't really addressed. They go on like nothing happened for the rest of the episode. Aang's lamentation comes from screwing things up with her romantically, not that he violated boundaries)

The show never really addressed why what he did was wrong. Not only because he wasn't given consent, but also because both times he isn't thinking about what Katara wants. In both instances, Aang is only thinking about himself and his feelings. This is something that persists through a lot of the third book. And by Sozin's Comet it ultimately ruins any character development he had built up in the second book.

One thing I feel was completely disregarded was the concept of having to let go of Katara in order to master the Avatar State.

For me, the implication wasn't that he had to give up love or happiness necessarily. He was emotionally attached to and reliant on Katara, to the point where she was needed to stop him from hurting everyone around him and himself. This is obviously detrimental to his functionality as the Avatar. And the point of him "letting her go" wasn't that he had to stop caring about her, it was that his emotional dependency on her was stopping him from being the Avatar he needed to be and that was what needed to be fixed. I don't even think it's about the Avatar State itself, it's about being able to keep your emotions and duty as the Avatar separate.

(If you look at Roku, he loved and had a wife. It wasn't his love for her that messed everything up, it was his attachment to Sozin. He wasn't able to let Sozin go and not only did he lose his life for it, the world suffered for it. It's the unhealthy attachments that seem to be detrimental, not love itself)

And Aang realizes that in the catacombs, which is how he's able to easily enter the Avatar State and seemingly control it. He let Katara go.

So then why does it seem like his attachment to Katara is not only stronger, but worse in mannerism? He liked Katara in Books 1 and 2- obviously- but he was never overly jealous of Jet or Haru. He only makes one harmless comment in Book 2 when Sokka suggests Katara kiss Jet.

But suddenly he's insanely jealous of Zuko (to the point of getting frustrated with Katara over it), off the basis of the actions of actors in a clearly misrepresentative play. Katara showed a lot more interest in Jet and Aang was completely fine with it.

(Speaking of EIP, Aang's reaction to being played by a woman was interesting. He wore a flower crown in The Cave of Two Lovers. He wove Katara a flower necklace. He wore Kyoshi's clothes and makeup and made a funny girl voice. He willingly responded to Twinkle Toes and had no issue being called that. And for some reason he's genuinely upset about being played by a woman? Aang in Books 1 and 2 would have laughed and enjoyed the show like Toph did. His aversion to feminity felt vastly out of character)

I guess my point is, why did that change? Why was Aang letting go of Katara suddenly irrelevant to the Avatar State? It felt like him letting go was supposed to be a major part of his development. Why did that stop?

Myself and many others have talked about The Southern Raiders. The jist of my thought process about it is his assumption that he knew what was best for Katara. And the episode doesn't really call out why he was wrong. Maybe sparing Yon Rha was better for Katara, maybe it wasn't (the only one who's allowed to make that choice is her). Pushing forgiveness? That was wrong. But the episode has Zuko say that Aang was right when the course of action Katara took wasn't what Aang suggested.

Katara's lesson here was that killing him wouldn't bring back her mother or mend the pain she was going through and that Yon Rha wasn't worth the effort. That's what she realizes. Not that she needed to embrace forgiveness. How could she ever forgive that? The episode saying Aang was right wasn't true. Yes she forgives Zuko, but that wasn't what Aang was talking about. He was specifically talking about Yon Rha.

And that was wrong. Aang can choose the path of forgiveness, that's fine. That's his choice. But dismissing Katara's trauma in favor of his morals and upbringing wasn't okay.

I know it sounds like this is just bashing Kataang. But it's not simply because I don't like Kataang, in my opinion it brings down Aang's character too, not just Katara's. But let's steer away from Kataang and Katara for a minute.

The one thing that solidifies Aang's character being ruined in Book 3 for me is the fact that he- at the end of the story- does the same thing he did in the beginning.

He runs away when things get hard.

Aang couldn't make the choice between his duty and his morals. So he ran. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but subconsciously he wanted an out. And this is really disappointing when one of the things he was firm about in Book 2 was not running anymore. His character went backwards here and that's not even getting into the real issue in Sozin's Comet.

There's been contention about the Lion Turtle intervention. For many- including myself- it's very deus ex machina to save Aang from having to make a hard decision. And that in turn doesn't reflect kindly on his character.

Everyone- Sokka, Zuko, Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Yangchen (who was another Airbender and was raised with the same beliefs he was and would understand which was the whole point of him talking to her)- told him he had to kill Ozai. They all told him it was the only way. And he refused to listen to any of them, rotating through his past lives until he was given the answer he wanted.

And before anyone says that I'm bashing Aang for following his culture, I'm not. Ending the war peacefully, in my opinion, wasn't the problem. In a way, I think it allowed the world to heal properly. However, that doesn't make up for the fact that Aang refused to make a choice and face the consequences of that choice. Instead, he's given an out at the very last second.

Even if he couldn't kill Ozai and someone else had to deliver the final blow, that would have been better than the Lion Turtle showing up and giving him a power no one's ever had before. It would have been a good compromise, he doesn't have to have blood directly on his hands but what needs to be done needs to still get done. It would also show that being the Avatar isn't a burden he has to bear alone. That when things get hard, he can't run away but he can rely on the people closest to him to help him through hard decisions.

All these issues aren't necessarily a problem with Aang. Aang prior to Book 3 didn't have most of these problems. This is a problem with the way he was handled

#aang critical #anti aang #tagging just in case #i don't want aang stans accusing me of cross tagging #it's really not anti aang tho #long post #anti bryke #this is their fault #look how they massacred my boy #anti kataang #katara deserved better #she's not the focus here #but i thought I'd add that there #character analysis #atla critical #anti book 3 #which is kind of an exaggeration #because a lot of book 3 is great #it's just most of the latter half

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merchelsea · 8 months

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private support- george russell

pairing: george russell x fem! model! reader

summary: you are constantly fighting george’s haters on interviews and socials, but when you need him to do the same, he doesn’t.

author’s note: my first time writing angst, please give me some tips to improve!! and i’m actually taking requests now, so if you have any, let me know!

word count: 2k+ (not counted properly)

warnings: angst, fighting, miscommunication, racism accusations, silence treatment, confused reader.

your mind snapped back to reality as your hairstylist, who also happened to be your best friend, playfully snapped her fingers in front of your face.

"what are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity and concern as she stood before you, demanding an answer.

"nothing," you quickly shot back, though the truth was quite the opposite. you had been mulling over everything that had transpired in the past week.

a false accusation of racism had been circulating on the internet, and it had been so well-constructed that people started believing you were capable of such a thing.

it was frustrating that almost no one believed you, but it was even more frustrating that you couldn't deny it. this whole scandal had brought up an unwanted spotlight, and you were obligated to follow a contract, which meant that, if they were to push you under the bus because they'd benefit from it, they could. and that is exactly what they did.

you felt anger and disappointment toward those you worked with daily, as you never thought they would betray you in such a way. in response, you had pulled all available strings and taken legal action to clear your name. while you had managed to set the record straight publicly through the legal process, it did little to ease the weight on your mind.

"that’s bullshit, you have been watching that tiktok for 15 minutes." your friend quipped, redirecting your attention to your phone, which had been playing the same vogue advertisement repeatedly. "so, what's on your mind?"

you sighed, contemplating the flood of thoughts but reluctant to discuss them. "a lot of stuff, but I really don't want to talk about it." your friend took a deep breath and reluctantly accepted your reluctance. "fine," she conceded. as much as she could try to hide it, you knew her, and realized she wasn't happy about it. "don't get mad."

"I’m not mad. I just don’t understand why you never talk with me about this stuff." you furrowed your brows as she moved to hold your hair from behind, starting to curl it again. "I mean, I’m supposed to be your best friend, you should be able to talk with me."

"it's about george," you exhaled as she began working on your hair, curling it once more. "what did he do?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "you guys never fight."

"he didn’t do anything, that’s the problem." you explained, feeling the heat of anger dissipate. the woman behind you turned your chair to face her, and you knew it was time to open up about it.

"what happened, babe?" she asked, pulling over a bench and sitting down. it was clear that she recognized the importance of the conversation.

you silently wondered about what to say for minutes, because even tho it was something really clear in your mind, you had no idea of how to put it into words.

she grew impatient in front of you, drumming her fingers in the bench she was sat in, waiting for you to break.

"he still hasn't said anything about this. he talked to me, told me he knew I could never do such a thing," you began, picking up a makeup pencil to occupy your hands. "but people asked him in interviews, and he didn't even deny it. he would just say hat he wouldn't comment on it."

You felt a mix of emotions, ranging from sadness to disappointment. You had always defended George in similar situations, in interviews, instagram stories, fighting people on twitter. in every way you could.

unintentionally, you expected him to do the same for you when the time came. but it came and he didn't. you couldn't really blame him because you never even talked to him about it, he had no way of knowing, but you did, you blamed him.

you blamed him and you felt awful for that. it was all an endless circle of guilt and shame that you were trying to run of. confused, stressed, attacked. how could someone be fine while feeling all of that?

questions lingered in your brain as your best friend talked to you, trying to help you in the better way she could. besides all of the mess, she was the one thing you were sure off, she was your rock, stabling you through the storm.

posting that video and coming clean about the situation had been a good step, but it hadn't eased the stabbing pain in your chest.

coming home to him was harder than ever. you had ignored his calls and every single one of his attempts to contact you. it was childish of you, and you were aware, but you just couldn't help it.

anyways, things had to be said.

as you entered the room, you found george lying on the couch in his mercedes shirt. he smiled when he saw you, relieved that you had come. he thought you wouldn't come, that caused by the three days left on read and the 14 missed calls.

seeing you was a relief for him. he immediately got up and walked to you, but you denied his attempt to touch your face. the smile on his face disappeared as fast as it came on.

"hey, what happened?" he attempted to caress your cheek, but you pulled away his arm. "what did I do?" his confused and saddened gaze filled you with regret and you realized what you were doing.

you weren't being fair.

"I'm sorry. I just—" you began, stepping back. his reaction made you realize that you needed to communicate openly. "I need to talk to you," you said, and george nodded, ready to listen. he looked genuinely terrified as you refused his touch, not understanding what he had done wrong.

"okay... hm. lets sit down." he suggested, trying to make it as comfortable as he could for you.

you both moved to the couch, sitting on opposite ends. george looked you in the eye, waiting for you to speak.

"so, you know about that racism accusation, right?"george nodded, not daring to speak. "I'm kind of upset about it."

"well that's understandable, yo-"

"george," you interrupted, wanting to clarify your point. "I'm not really worried about the accusation itself right now. you haven't said anything about it yet." the brit furrowed his brows.

"what? I told you exactly what I thought that same night. you could never do such thing and I know that very well." you sighed, annoyed again. it was difficult to try and see things from his perspective, but the truth is that you weren't explaining him things clearly.

"that's not what I mean. you've talked about it with me, but you never did on public. you never said that 'i could never do such thing' to anyone else." his eyes fall on you again, softened this time.

"oh." it lingers in the air for quite some time as he gets ahold of his thoughts and you grow inpatient. "I'm sorry about that. I never thought you wanted to." some other words danced on the tip of his tongue. he contained himself, but he could've easily ended this argument.

"you never thought? how's that?" you offendedly ask. how could you not want your boyfriend to have your back?

"well, once you told me you didn't like the thought of being seen as dependent of me. that you wanted to be seen as an independent and strong woman. I respected, and still respect that." you recalled saying this after a long night in monaco. deep conversations had become a regular occurrence between you two after his race weekends.

"it's not about depending on you; it's about you supporting me," you raised your voice, making it clear how upset you were. "I always do that for you, and it doesn't mean anything."

"yeah, because the media and society are twisted as fuck, and we both know that," george said, turning his body towards you, now more open to discussing the issue. "tell me that if it were me in your position, you wouldn't be labeled as a woman who needs her boyfriend to protect her. do you have any idea of how you would be talked about?"

you hated it when he was right, but he was right now. however, he seemed to miss your perspective on all of this.

"I wouldn't care. I would know you were by my side and I wouldn't care."

"your such a bad liar. you would care. you would and you will because I gave an interview like two days ago, talking about it." he sighs. "because even though I knew it wasn't what you would've wanted, I could not keep quite while you were going through all of that."

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other. how could have you missed this? okay, you had been avoiding anything george related for the past days, but you would know. wouldn't you?

"of course that, I could've told you if you just picked up your damn phone." george got up and left for your bedroom before you had a chance to react. but he did exactly what you needed—he gave you some time to think, to process, and to feel guilty for treating him poorly when all he had done was thinking of you.

you took out your phone and searched his name on twitter. the first thing coming up being exactly what you were looking for.

"it's unacceptable. it's actually unacceptable that someone can do this and live their life in peace. that person screwed her over — her name, her work, everything she represents. yeah, no, I can not deal with this shit. I mean, she is the most admirable person in this earth and people who can't deal with other's happiness just keep trying to mess that up. they wont succeed, though. she is incredible enough to not let that happen." "george, does it bother you that it was a fan of yours who came up with this?" "fan? sorry but that can't be called a fan. that is just a jerk who tried to ruin someone's life. does it bother me that is the love of my life being attacked? a lot. it drives me crazy. as I said before, I can't deal with this. I honestly think it would be easier if I was the one being attacked. I just can't understand why someone would do this to her. she always does what's best for others, she supports everyone, is always out there in the world fighting other's fights and this is how she is payed? it's not fair, it's just not fair." "i have only one more question for you. why did it take you so long to speak about this? even your teammate, lewis hamilton, talked about this the day it came out, and you're only just now coming clean." "well obviously I wanted to talk about this from the moment I saw it. it took a lot of me to not start a war right there. but we all know how fucked up the world is and how she would've been talked about if I came straight to interviews. she probably will even get a few comments about me but I couldn't keep it in. if she is not allowed to speak, I'll speak for her. that's how we work. we love each other and we support each other." "uh, i'm sorry george. not allowed?" "thank you for having me."

his face displayed anger, and he seemed more than ready to start a war. you couldn't help but smile throughout the whole video, feeling grateful for the man you had by your side.

and then it hit you—you had been treating him horribly when he didn't deserve it. in fact, he deserved the opposite. so, you got up and went to apologize.

opening the bedroom door, you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door. he had been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry," you said as you moved closer. he pulled you close by the waist, hugging your body, and you caressed his hair.

" you need to talk to me," he murmured against your belly.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry," you said, taking his head in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. "I promise you that from now on, we'll discuss everything. I love you so much."

"I love you too. you know that, right?" you nodded your head with a big smile. if this had shown you something, was that he loved you.

"I know, and I'm sorry for cutting you off when things went bad. that was really shitty of me." you looked up, admitting your mistakes.

"never do that again, I got so afraid. I thought I had lost you."

"I'll never do it again. I promise." you stuck out your pinky and he took it. sealing the promise with a kiss on your enlaced fingers.

#george russell #george russel x reader #george russel imagine #george russel x you #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell x you #george russell x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #fem reader #f1 reader #formula one story #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #fem reader f1 #mercedes reader

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 3 months

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can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #god this is probably so messy #i'll edit it later #come get your food im going to bed

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works-of-heart · 2 months

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I don't get it.

Like seriously, I honestly don't understand it.

Sjm says that Elain was someone who she and Lucien didn't see coming. She had always envisioned him with Nesta, but realized they'd tear each other apart (not in a good way, as she loves that kind of banter, but theirs would be awful). She mentions 'without getting too spoilery' that and I quote:

"there was actually a great deal of tension, growth, and healing to be found for both of them (together)"

You mean to tell me, that she says there is a great deal of tension (which we've all been seeing between them), growth and healing for them TOGETHER ONLY to have Elain break her bond with him and leave him to suffer a broken bond?

You want to tell me that SJM planned to have Elain become Lucien's mate, so they could grow and heal together, only for her to dump him and choose Azriel, and leave Lucien alone with a broken bond?

This woman, who has written Lucien as kind, patient, understanding, and truly concerned for Elain, is planning on making his mate turn away from him? This man who is said to be fiercely loyal, who could have ANY woman in Prythian he wanted but has no interest in any females, who has suffered physical and emotional trauma to help his friends. You think Sarah is just going to be like "Yeah, I'm going to put Lucien with a girl who is all around perfect for him and just take her away so she can run into the arms of another man!"

Look, I torture my precious babies too, but that?! That's INSANE to me that anyone thinks Sarah planned to set him up with a mate and said all those things if she planned for it to be a failure.

Especially since she made a comment, unprompted mind you, about an Elucien date where they go visit the gardens in London, before heading out to the countryside, stating that they're BOTH happy in nature. So she's going to talk about Feysand, Nessien modern dating, and just throw in Elucien even though she doesn't even plan for them to be together?

it simply doesn't make any sense to me.

Like take a moment, to actually sit down and think, why would this author say those kinds of things if she as some had said "planned Elriel since MAF" when she literally states the opposite. She confirmed Nessien in that same moment as well, because the series was originally supposed to finish. Az and Elain didn't have anything together, they were never planned. She didn't change from that trajectory either (as stated in her interview that I guess people want to misquote, forget, or take her words completely out of context).

SJM did say there were SMALL changes, like some characters had been added (which I suspect are Gwyn and Em), Mor's sexual orientation, but the overall arch was still the same.

Honestly, here's what I think about that.

Azriel was always meant to have a mate. A lot of people pointed out that in MAF there was a lot of Moriel hints and they were meant to be endgame. When she got backlash for lack of LGBT representation, she just decided to have Mor's preference shift. I think it left Az without a mate, but by the time SF came around she began to leave breadcrumbs for who he'd end up with. That being Gwyn.

I personally think SJM wants Gwynriel so much so, that she retconned Az's backstory so he was the one at Sangravah. That he killed everyone in site, leaving none left alive (completely OOC for Az, yet fitting with mate behavior). Like if she had no intention for Az to be connected to her in such a way, why actively make HIM the one to save her? Why make it so that Az killed everyone and left not a single person alive?

Why did she have his shadows react to her in a very specific way, a way that's calm and happy? The way they sing and dance to her, reaching out to her in a playful way. Why would she change history and put attention on these things, if there was never any future for them? What, so we can see Az fall for Elain? You mean Sarah went out of her way to change parts of Az's story and how his shadows react specifically to Gwyn, just so he can turn from her and rush into the arms of Elain? Why bother?

And before anyone says "lightsinger" and Gwyn's 'evil powers' are causing Az's shadows to dance and sing... there's a whole bonus chapter where Az's shadows dance to Azriel's singing. Gwyn isn't even there, so that's debunked.

That's all, I just had to get that off my chest. I keep seeing so many people rant and say that SJM's old editor pushed for Elucien and her new one is pushing Elriel because it's more 'popular' and she's going in this new direction now. I have no idea where that came from when she said that nothing's changed from her drunken rant, so we'll see I guess.

#elucien #elucien supremacy #pro lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elain x lucien #pro gwynriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel

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its-the-sa · 5 months

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Different anon. God just boiling down the slugcats to 'animals' angers me in a way I didn't think I could be angry. Yes, they are animals, but by all means they are cognitive and understand complex emotions, communicate with a supposedly complex language, are able to be taught to do things. Why else would the iterators use them as messengers constantly? It's not like they're messenger pigeons where it's just going from point A to point B, they understand exact instructions. If this was just some random animal, making groans and grunts, they wouldn't be able to understand what Five Pebbles even meant when he was explaining how to ascend. Even with the mark, could you imagine if he told a lizard this? Artificer, arguably, is a prime example of this. Just an animal would get over their fallen children, sure they'd grieve but in the end they'd just make more. Arti not only is so enraged by their death, that she is physically incapable of ascension, but also swears vengeance upon a whole other species. This isn't just some animal who lost her children, this is a mother who is enraged at her children's murder. Sure, they aren't on the same level as humans are. Like obviously. But I'd argue it makes sense that a scavenger and a slugcat could fall down the path of enemies to lovers. Especially when you consider the fact that death isn't permanent in Rain World's universe. That would definitely change one's perspective on it. I dunno if I make sense, I'm juggling like three things at once, but I had to say what I needed to say. Wording bad, slugcat smort.

tbh it took me a minute to figure out what this was even referring to, because honestly I don't think that anon meant to use the word 'animal' to dehumanize arti in the first place. it sounded to me like they were just using it as a non-human equivalent for 'person', like "why would anyone fall for a person who committed hate crimes against them?" which is a valid question. it never even occurred to me that they could have meant it in the sense of calling her an inferior creature.

that said... you ARE 100% right and you should say it, lmao.

I very nearly got into this exact argument once, bc i saw some comments from a guy scoffing at the idea of arti showing mercy to baby scavs. because by his logic, 'she is just an animal, so she isn't bound by human morality. in the wild, animals kill any young that don't belong to them without hesitation'. and it just pissed me off so much, because not only was it such an edgy "mercy is for the WEAK!" alpha-male bullshit take, it was also just factually wrong. many animals can and do adopt the young of other animals, even other species, especially when they've just lost their own. and like you said, they can grieve, but then they move on. they keep surviving, and making more babies. they don't dwell on injustice, or let rage consume them to the point that it becomes a hindrance to their own survival. they don't go on single-minded revenge quests. they dont try to justify their own violence by demonizing entire species, and they dont end up plagued by guilt in their sleep. those are very, very human things.

and yeah, i see a lot of people theorize that it's the mark of communication that grants the slugcats higher intelligence, but I don't really buy that either. i think the mark just lets them understand the iterator's language. they must've already had the capacity to understand it, or else it wouldn't work at all. it'd be like trying to install windows on a calculator. also, even without the mark, slugcats are obviously shown to communicate with each other. they have their own culture, they tell stories and make art, and they're apparently able to understand karma and the nature of the cycle at least enough to be able to ascend. so like... any creature thats capable of spiritual enlightenment must at least be sapient, right??

it seems like in the absence of the ancients, both slugcats and scavs are beginning to move in to their niche in the ecosystem

#in other words #[holds up a slugcat] BEHOLD A MAN

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 5 months

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This person genuinely thinks that Aang would be a better character if he kidnapped a baby?? Or would be more interesting?? Honey, why would he do that. That's not him being boring, that's just him not committing an actual, terrible, crime. Alos it's his show, it's literally called 'Avatar the Last Airbender' of course he's going to get more episodes focusing on him, it's his show???

"Aang being a main character limits him to being a role model'' by brother in Christ, this a Nickelodeon show. Even Zuko is a bit of role model, in the sense of him being a way to teach kids "Just 'cause you're hurting doesn't mean it's okay to be a dick to others. Please apologize if you ever hurt someone."

Also Aang DOES make morally questionable, and downright incorrect, choices that the narrative address. Fleeing when the other airbenders want to send him away, hiding the map to Hakoda from Sokka and Katara, trying to learn firebending before he's ready and then vowing to NEVER use that bending again, trying to trigger the Avatar state, wanting revenge on the sandbenders, shutting off emotionally to not deal with his pain over losing Appa, refusing AND accepting to ignore his love for Katara to fully master the Avatar state, his innitial refusal to continue pretending he is dead to hide from his enemies, the Ember Island kiss, and even his refusal to kill Ozai (before the actual Deus Ex Machina happens).

Aang is challenged all the time. He grows all the time. He is allowed to be wrong all the time. Yall are just mad he was the protagonist instead of your favorite.

And while I agree Sokka didn't have much of an arc, I disagree about Toph never growing even if there were some issues with her storyline. She went from someone who was terrified of accepting help from others as that had always meant "lose all agency" her whole life, to someone that consistently relies on her friends. She went from uncooperative because "she carries her own weight" to being a team player that even offers her friends emotional support. She even makes the first step to reconciliate with her parents.

LOTS of characters had arcs (Iroh, Jet, Mai, Azula, and even King Kuei- that's how stories work. The reason some of these were handled better/given more or less screentime is because Bryke insisted on having only three seasons, even though the show clearly needed a fourth. It had nothing to do with "the problem of having a protagonist" - that's not a problem if you're a competent writer with enough time.

Also, if you see Katara in the FIRST DAMN EPISODE talking about how much she wants to learn waterbending AND how grateful she was to be allowed to be a kid again, yet you're suprised to see her become such a badass whose happy ending is helping end the war and thus be allowed to be a kid again because "she's just Aang's love interest", that says a lot more about YOU than about the show.

Avatar's writting has problems, yes, because no work of fiction is perfect because no writer is perfect. But the overwhelming majority of complaints from some fans come not from acknowledging those flaws, but from a complete inability to understand some REALLY basic storytelling stuff that the show handled with excellence.

That's what happens when you're too focused on what you want to see to actually look at the story playing out in front of you: you miss incredibly obvious things that the writers made as easy to follow as possible since the show is aimed at 7-year-olds.

#anti zutara

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schrodingers-deadbitch · 1 year

Text

Half A Corpse

Chapter Two

To put it lightly, Damien Wayne did not like his new classmates. That shouldn't have meant anything really since he didn't like people in general, (only being able to tolerate a few); but there was something about those two that unnerved him.... a lot. But he couldn't quite tell what it was that did.

Maybe it was their slightly luminescent and unnaturally colored eyes? Or was it their slightly blue/green-tinted skin? Maybe it was their otherworldly beauty? (Seriously no one should be that pretty!!) Probably how when they when they both walked and run they made no noise unless they wanted to be heard. The way their hair moved even without wind? How their laughs didn't sound... fully human?

Honestly, Damien could go on and on with reasons as to why both Samantha Manson and Paulina Sanchez freaked him the fuck out but that wouldn't change the fact that he had to do a group project with them. And it definitely wouldn't change the fact that were in the car with him heading to the manor to start said project.

He didn't understand what his History teacher was thinking pairing him and the new students together for a group project. Maybe it was because of their studious nature? It's only been a couple weeks into the school year and they've already shown themselves to be excellent students. And they did spend a lot of their time in the library either studying or completing assignments. Especially Sanchez who was clearly the more social of the two.

But if that were the case maybe that's why they were partnered together. They were loners who never really talked to anyone and so was he. Did the teacher put them together hoping that they would become friends? Preposterous! Damien Wayne didn't need any friends! He was the Blood Son! The one and only.... The one and only.

He sighed and dropped his head, the lie he repeatedly told himself echoing in his mind. But it wasn't a lie, not exactly anyways. He was the Blood Son. The one and only. It was just that there was once a time when he wasn't. There was once a time when there was another.

He could still remember him so clearly. His laugh, his smile, his sparkling blue eyes that looked exactly like father's. He especially remembered the freckles that littered his skin like the stars did the night sky. Oh how he loved the stars. The stories they told and the histories they held. He loved everything about them.

That's why he wanted for his final memory, his best memory of him to be of them playing together, under the moon and stars that he loved so much.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't want to think about him. Not right now anyways. He saved those memories for the rear occasion that you were able to Gotham's night sky. Even if it was just a pinch.

“-ien. Damien.”

His eyes snapped open and saw the two girls staring at him curiously.

“Are you okay?” Manson asked him, some concern could be heard in her voice. “If you aren't feeling well we could start the project-”

“No everything is fine. I was just thinking about some stuff.”

The two girls eyes met each other's then gave the boys an unconvinced look but did not push the matter further. Manson's phone then pinged, she went to answer it frantically.

“Anyways!” Sanchez continued, “We realized that when given this project most people would go with things like the Egyptian pyramids or the Mayan temples but we wanted to do something unique.”

“Unique how?” Damien asked skepticism clear in his voice.

“Well what if we did the histories of certain constellations?” Manson answered, now frantically texting on two phones.

His heart skipped a beat. A small smile appeared on his lips.

“Yeah, that does sound a bit unique.”

The sound of texting in the car got louder and louder and even more frantic as the seconds past by. Both girls looking even more worried. It was now time for Damien to ask the question,

“Are you guys okay?”

Both girls eyes were locked in his directions now. Emotions that he recognized but somewhat couldn't comprehend swirled with in them.

“Yeah we're doing fine but our friend isn't doing so hot.”

“May I can what's wrong?”

Manson's shoulders tensed, a look filled with guilt, worry and confusion graced her features.

“Uhhh, some really bad stuff happened to this friend a couple months ago and now their mental stability is absolute shit-”

“Not that it was any good in the first place.” Sanchez muttered but with seemingly no ill intend.

“But they were moved here to Gotham a couple of weeks ago and was doing very well but I think I fucked up.”

Damien's eyebrows quirked upwards. “Can I asked how?”

“She sent him a picture."

Damien was now very confused to say the least.

***

*Plant Queen sent a photo~*

All his life Danny has always felt a bit odd. A bit empty. Like massive parts of himself were missing. And that was true if you thought about it. A boy who could barely remember even half of his life was bound to feel like a puzzle with only a few pieces connected. Only a few pieces visible.

But just because the other pieces were somewhere in the dark didn't mean that they weren't there. If he felt around enough he could touch them, feel them almost. And a lot of the time they hurt. Like open wounds that never got the chance to close. To heal. This one for some reason... this one fucking hurt.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dcxdp #demon twin au #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #batfamily #batman #damien wayne #danny is tired #danny is traumatized #sam manson #she fucked up #paulina sanchez #she's along for the ride #i hate this chapter with every fiber of my being #i hate it so much #hope you enjoy

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lilliejareau · 8 months

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Forbidden Love

A Jemily One-Shot

Written by: lilliejareau

Author's Note: this was originally going to be for my 1k celebration post but I unfortunately wasn't able to finish writing on time. But I have finished today and I hope you all enjoy this, though it is quite emotional.

Please be kind because I have not posted anything I have written publicly since 2021/2022 because I am very self-critical of my work. Thank you and enjoy! (ps, I don't have gifs and stuff, sorry!)

Word Count: 1,743

(I know it's pretty long, but I got so into it!)

Summary: When JJ marries the love of her life, Emily comes to accept the fact that she has to let hers go.

—

"Are you alright?"

Emily inhaled sharply, startled out of her thoughts. It was JJ who asked the question, standing there in her beautiful bridal dress, reminding Emily of what she lost. Emily's head tilted slightly, her lips pulled upward but not quite showing her teeth.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

JJ did a sort of smile. "You're out here all alone? I figured you'd gone inside like the rest of us."

The dancing had ended moments ago, everyone had gone inside to enjoy the rest of the party as it simmered down. Everyone except Emily who had lingered out on the dance floor with a glass of champagne thinking about the memories she had with the team over the years. She thought about JJ and the 'what-ifs'. She was so incredibly happy for and proud of JJ for finding her true love and having everything she deserved. Having hidden feelings for JJ didn't stop Emily from being delighted for her.

Emily had never loved, hadn't truly loved until she met JJ. By the time she understood and accepted that love, accepted who she was, and what that meant, it was much too late. Her heart ached terribly as the reality set in that she should no longer love JJ. It wasn't fair for either of them. JJ had Will and for years, Emily watched the couple fall in love and develop their relationship into more than what Emily had ever had with somebody before.

Yet, even after all that time, all those years, her forbidden love for JJ never really went away.

Emily shrugged in response to JJ's observation, trying to come off as nonchalant but when she looked up to meet those blue eyes she'd fallen for long ago, she knew that JJ could tell something was up with her. She cursed herself for not hiding it better.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" JJ inquired, eyes slightly narrowed but showed nothing but concern for her friend. Reaching out, she went to take Emily's hand in her own but the brunette pulled away, seemingly against her own will. A strange reaction to a familiar gesture. Something was wrong. "Emily?"

"JJ, I..." Emily tore her eyes away from those blue ones she'd fallen for all those years ago. She knew what she felt for JJ was wrong, that what she was about to say had a possibility of hurting more than keeping it bottled up.

"Em, what is it? You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I love you." the words were regretful and rushed, and one quick breath released what she had bottled up for years. There truly was no going back now. Before JJ could respond, Emily held out a hand to stop her. "You don't have to say anything, I'm not asking you to, but I do love you. I think I always have."

A very long silence filled the air, not only tension but something else that neither could name. A moment and a breath of composure later, JJ's shockingly calm voice filled the silence.

"I know, Emily."

Emily's heart beat rapidly in her chest. "You know?"

JJ gave a slow nod. "Back then, God, I was so blind. I had feelings for you, Emily. I did. But by the time I realized what those feelings were... It took me years to finally understand what I felt for you was love." JJ's eyes shone with emotion and Emily's guilt only grew. 'But I love Will. God, I love Will. And Henry, too. They're my family, Emily, and what we had, what we felt back then...it's gone now. I do have love for you. I love you so, very much, just not in the way you want me to. Not anymore."

Emily knew this would be the rational outcome the moment she opened her mouth and said those words, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. It hurt so terribly, even if she knew and expected JJ's response to be nothing short of rejection.

"I know," she tearfully admitted, voice quiet, barely a whisper. She couldn't look at JJ, her eyes focused on the previously forgotten glass of Dom Perignon she held. She felt like an idiot for admitting feelings she should have never spoken aloud, to begin with. And on JJ's wedding day nonetheless. What was she thinking? The relief of releasing bottled-up feelings wasn't enough to overshadow the guilt.

"I love him, Em, he's my everything. That's my truth and I know this should be the part where I say that I wish I could change that, but I don't. I wouldn't have Henry, my life with Will, I wouldn't have any of what I have now. I know this hurts you, especially coming from me right now, but it's too late for anything more than what you and I already have. You're still my best friend, Emily, and you will always be. That's not going to change."

Emily nodded and finally met JJ's eyes again as a tear slid down her cheek. "I didn't tell you this in hopes of some sort of fairy tale ending. I love you, yes, but you're right, we're best friends. Nothing more. We had our chance and never saw it, it's over now. I just couldn't keep it in any longer. I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. I honestly didn't plan on telling you tonight, I guess it's just the perfect timing, huh?" Emily rolled her eyes at her poor attempt at lightening the mood and shook her head.

JJ didn't say anything, and it was probably better that way. Emily didn't expect an answer. The blonde simply gave her friend a sad smile, leaned in, and hugged her tightly. Emily embraced her back almost immediately. This would be their last hug before she left for London; their last moment alone together. It was very emotional for more reasons than the one.

The hug remained as Emily's mind drifted to the eye contact she and JJ held while the bride shared a dance with her new husband. For JJ, that shared eye contact was about Prentiss leaving for London soon, knowing her best friend was moving to an entirely different country shortly after that very night. But for Emily, it meant so much more. She'd lost her and for good this time. It was over and as painful as it was, it was for the best. JJ had a happy family, a husband, and a beautiful little boy.

It had once been a dream of Emily's that she would settle down and have a family of her own, a husband or a wife, a child or two. But as the years went on, she watched her dream fade away as it became a reality for the woman she loved, the hardest part being that it wasn't with her.

Now she just needed to come to terms with that.

"Thank you for telling me," JJ whispered, holding onto the embrace just a bit longer before pulling away. She could see the pain in those brown eyes and it broke her heart. She studied them longer, seeing the guilt. "I don't want you to feel guilty for admitting what you feel."

"JJ–"

"You don't choose who you fall in love with," JJ interrupted, watching as Emily's eyes recognized those words as they welled up with tears. "Those were your words, Em. I'm glad you told me and maybe in some...parallel universe, we wouldn't be as blind as we were."

"Maybe," Emily softly repeated, bringing up a hand to wipe her cheek. "You're not...disgusted by me?"

"Emily, no," JJ was quick to assure, grasping her friend's hand tightly. "It took courage to tell me what you did, I don't know if I ever could've done it."

"But it's you're wedding day."

"Yeah," JJ nodded. "It is, but what's done is done and there's no changing that. We might not be on the same page when it comes to who we love, but I can assure you that I am proud of you, not disgusted. I don't think I could ever be revolted by you, Em."

"Yeah?" Emily tearfully whispered, looking into JJ's eyes for a sign of reassurance.

JJ smiled. "Yeah."

A touching silence fell upon them as a song played faintly in the background from inside, a familiar melody that both of them knew.

"Em?"

"Hm?"

"Dance with me?"

The brunette was slightly caught off guard by the offer, her lips withholding a response. She had always been so certain that after she told JJ her secret, the blonde wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near her. Instead, JJ was being as kind of a friend as always and asked Emily to dance. It seemed like such an innocent gesture but to Emily, it was more. It was closure instead of more heartache, and that was something she never expected to have.

"Yes."

JJ took the champagne glass and set it aside, taking Emily's hand in her own and leading them to the center of the dance floor, both women sharing a sad smile as their eyes met, hands interlocked.

This was the end, the end of an era, the end of what could have been, and the beginning of a new journey for both. A journey where Emily would move on, and JJ would remain happy in her family life, content with what she had. Both were certain at that moment that no matter what, their friendship would always be a strong foundation.

For the first time that night, Emily smiled softly, looking into those blue eyes that would be a memory from now on, not a constant reminder. She would no longer look into those eyes and feel her heart ache, her stomach tighten, or that dreadful sense of longing.

JJ was not hers, and she never would be, but at least she could leave with no regrets, the weight off her chest, and a clear conscious. She still loved JJ, and that would never change, but now she knew things she never knew before.

As they held onto each other and slowly swayed to the music, JJ's soft, quiet voice uttered words Emily had longed to hear in a much different manner.

"I love you, Emily. Always."

Emily repeated, her voice just as soft and quiet, words she meant with all her heart. "I love you, JJ. Always."

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jewishdainix · 9 months

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While I do totaly understand how Fitz's reply to Nettle in their ride from Jaamphe in Fool's Assassin is seen as just a silly attempt to deny queerness , there is actually a lot to analyse about it!

When you dissect it it actually shows Fitz's failure to both bridge the gap separate his and Beloved's relationship with/from queerness, and the Six Duchies' understanding of it.

Let me explain.

The view in the Six Duchies on queer relationships* seems to be that they are Scandelous relationships that are purely sexual.

The homophobia we see from the characters shows that: When Starling was insulting Fitz she said that she was sure he whispered Molly's name while Lord Golden was fucking him; when Dutiful asked Fitz if he and Lord Golden were sleeping together, but not if they were in a relationship; when Chade told Fitz he knew he didnt sleep with men; Lant saying he was afraid when he first met Fitz because he heard rumers Tom Badgerlock also desired men.

Even during The Quarell Fitz talked about that same sexual aspect, saying he would never want to sleep with the Fool.

When Nettle asked him about his and Lord Golden's relationship, and if the rumors about them were true, she brought back that old idea of the Scandelous, purely sexual nature of queer relationships.

And that wasn't what Fitz and Beloved's relationship was.

Whether or not you interprit Fitz being secualy attracted to Beloved, their relationship was not what the Six Duchies' idea of queer relationships was. It was an emotional connection that their relationship was built on, not a purely sexual one with no care beyond sexual desire.

Which is why Fitz said there was nothing "improper" about their bond. Why Fitz said that what they had wen far beyond that.

Fitz was still unable to separate the idea of being in a relationship with Beloved with that view of queerness (he almost did, by the end of Fool's Fate, but whatever progress he made was undone by him repressing his love for Beloved all those years apart. Admitting he loved Beloved would have meant he was not able to pretend he got the Happy Ending he so desprately clung to, buts thats a whole other post).

But thats just the part about him not being able to seprate queer relationships from the view on them in the Six Duchies. Because of those views, he doesn't know how to recognise his feellings for Beloved (and other men) as what they are.

When Riddle told him how he remembered that he and Beloved were "very close" Fitz didn't oject like he has done with the acusations/questions that were related to the supposed sexual nature of his relationship with Lord Golden. He hadn't replied with anything, but mentioned that his silence said more than any thing he could have said himself.

When meeting with Carson, Fitz immidietly mentions how he felt a "feelling that sometimes comes of insant connection, a deep friendship that could have been".

Lets dissect that aswell, since I already put this under a readmore and dont care about how long this post gets. (@tragediegh and I talk about this quote every couple of days so everything I say here is recicled from our dms lol)

"Instant connection, a deep friendship that could have been," implies that the relationship Fitz is thinking he would have is very close, but it is not based on an actual expirience with that person, rather their first impression on Fitz - their vibe and how they look (interesting how Fitz says it about Carson, a gay man).

"That sometimes comes" shows that it is an - if not a common one - an occurence that happened multiple times.

This sounds like someone describing a crush/romantic atraction without knowing that what they are feelling is that!

The reason Fitz describes it as a "deep friendship" and "instant connection" and not "romantic feellings towards men" is because how he still view queer relationships from that homophobic view the Six Duchies have, and because of that is unable to connect his feellings towards men (amd beloved) to what they are.

...

* mlm relationships, technically. We havn't seen what they think of sapphic ones (even in The Willful Princess and the Piebald Prince Felicity mentions how possible homophobia only briefly, though they do seem to not consider lesbian sex as not actual sex which makes since with how their culture views reproduction) and I'm pretty sure Six Duchies people don't know about trans/genderqueer people because *gestures to everything*

#fitz and the fool #realm of the elderlings #fitzchivalry farseer #fitzloved #fool's assassin #assassin's fate #internalized homophobia #love how this shower thought i had in the shower took me 50 mintues to write

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stylesispunk · 9 months

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TIME CASTS A SPELL ON YOU, BUT YOU WON'T FORGET ME | CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5: Loving You Will Get Me Killed.

Series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist

Summary: fifteen years ago, amidst the filling of divorce papers and the broken promises of a happily ever after, the world collapsed. Amidst the ruins of cities and the remnants of dreams, Joel's search for his ex-wife began. No matter where he turned, the woman who had once loved him held him captive, a presence he couldn't escape.

word count: 2,9k>

warnings: no use of y/n, angst, fluff,

a/n: Hello, part 5 is here! I lost track of time these days because of the holidays. This chapter ended up being different from my previous plan, but still is what it is, I know is not the best but is written with love. As always, reblogs and comments are really appreciated<3 If you have any questions or feedback, you are always welcome to come here (be kind). Happy reading💌. Also, if you wanna be tagged, tell me<3 AND there is a playlist for this story here. English is not my first language, I swear I'm clever in Spanish

Joel, Ellie, and Beth found a quiet spot to sit down and talk. The tension in the air had lessened somewhat, and Joel couldn’t help but steal glances at Beth as she observed her surroundings. He was looking for any features of Emily in her. The way she furrowed her brow when deep in thought, the determined glint in her eyes, and even the way she held herself with a certain quiet strength It was as though a part of Emily had been passed down to their daughter.

Ellie noticed Joel's contemplative gaze and leaned in to whisper, "You see it too, don't you?"

Joel didn’t move, his eyes never leaving Beth. "What do I have to see?"

Ellie understood Joel's guarded response. The emotions Joel had tied to Emily were still painful. "I just meant...you’re seeing Emily in her," Ellie said softly, choosing her words with care.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on Beth, who was now lost in thought.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, she does."

Ellie simply nodded in understanding. She had always been perceptive, and with the passing of the days, she was able to pick up on Joel’s unspoken emotions.

"It's a lot to take in," Ellie said softly. "But maybe it's a chance for you to make things right, Joel. To help Beth and Emily be together again."

Joel didn't respond immediately. Instead, he continued stealing glances at Beth, as if trying to figure out something unknown to Ellie.

Ellie watched Joel closely, a frown on his eyebrows as he continued looking at Beth. She couldn't help but notice the similar frown on Beth's face as she returned his gaze. However, Ellie's curiosity got the better of her. She couldn't help but wonder what happened to Emily when she found out she was expecting, and she couldn’t help but wonder who Beth’s father was. Ellie's curiosity got the better of her.

"Beth? How old are you?" Ellie asked

Beth responded to Ellie's question, "I'm fourteen; why?"

Ellie exchanged a knowing glance with Joel, their unspoken thoughts left there hanging in the air.

As Emily moved through the desolate landscape, she couldn’t help but reflect on the past. She remembered the old good days when her biggest complaint was getting up for work, when she lived instead of surviving, and when she had a family to come home to. Those days were just scenes of a film she couldn’t enjoy anymore.

Emily had never stopped loving Joel, and the pain of their separation had never truly faded. It was a wound that had festered over the years—a constant ache in her heart. But now, with his reappearance and the reasons he had brought into her life once again, Emily couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for redemption.

She remembered the day her marriage definitely ended and how, a week later, the world went into chaos. She was frightened, not just for herself but for the tiny baby growing inside her. Back then, she didn’t have any family besides Joel, Sarah, and Tommy, and now, fifteen years apart, she finds herself still without a family, except for the daughter she wasn’t willing to lose.

With each step she took, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out and that the choices she made in the days to come would determine the fate of not only her daughter but also the remnants of her own humanity.

For that reason, she found herself back in the place she had escaped from years ago—the place that stole her humanity for the first time. Emily's footsteps echoed in the eerie silence as she cautiously made her way through the familiar but now haunting corridors.

She couldn't help but remember the screams, the fear, and the desperation that had filled these very halls years ago when she decided to escape with her daughter attached to her hip.

This place had been a crucible that had tested the limits of her humanity and morality for the first time.

So once the door was opened for her, the figure emerging was her once-savior.

"Where is Joel Miller?" Mark demanded, his voice dripping with menace. He was a man who inflicted untold horrors on those who crossed his path.

Emily fought to keep her composure. She knew that she had to tread carefully, for both her sake and her daughter's. "Not here," she replied, her voice steady despite

"I remember telling you not to come back without that man."

"Things change," Emily responded; she had come too far to simply bow down to Mark's demands.

Mark's eyes narrowed further. "You were always a thorn in my side, Emily," he hissed. "But I have ways of making you cooperate."

"You know? Actually, I was with him," Emily continued, ignoring Mark’s words, her defiance rising. She knew that Mark wouldn't be satisfied with her answers. He was a predator, and he smelled blood in the water. "And I told him about you."

Mark's eyes narrowed, his smile fading into a scowl. He took a step closer to Emily, and she could feel his spiteful breath on her face. "You always were a clever one, Emily. Don’t you tell me you were foolish enough to fall for him again?"

Emily's eyes have widened. "What do you mean again?"

Mark's scowl deepened as he stared at Emily, his eyes cold. "You thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you?" he sneered. "You thought you could hide all those pictures from me?"

Emily's heart raced as she tried to decipher Mark's words. She had no idea what he was talking about. "I don't know what you mean," she replied cautiously.

Mark took another step closer, his voice low and threatening. "I know you and him were married."

Mark's laughter was cold and cruel. "You really are a fool, Emily. I bet you told him about me. Did you honestly believe he would forgive you? That he would welcome you back with open arms and protect you?"

Emily's heart sank as the truth of Mark's words began to dawn on her; he was using that knowledge to manipulate her.

"I won't let you use him against me," Emily said, her voice firm. She couldn't allow Mark to control her like this and exploit her vulnerabilities.

Mark's smile returned, but it was even more sinister than before. "Oh, Emily," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You don't have a choice." He paused "I want that fucker dead."

"Why?" she dared to ask.

"Why?" Emily dared to ask, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

Mark's smile twisted into a bitter expression. "Because he's the reason I became what you called a monster," he hissed. "He killed my people, and he killed my brother."

Emily's heart sank further as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

"I want him dead, and you're going to help me find him." He said it coldly.

"I won't lead you to him." She said, "You don’t dare put a price on your brother’s life when you have done horrible things to people."

Mark's jaw clenched as he glared at Emily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making a grave mistake, Emily," he warned. "You'll regret this."

"Cut your bullshit," she spitted. "I came here for my daughter, and I will be out of here with her."

"And who is going to let you?"

"I’m not asking for permission."

Mark's eyes bore into Emily's, his expression hardening. "You think you can just take Beth and walk away?

She didn't hesitate; she swiftly took action. With a quick, calculated movement, she drove her knife into Mark's leg, causing him to cry out in pain.

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter," she stated defiantly, her eyes locked onto Mark's. "And I won't let you or anyone else stand in my way."

Mark winced in pain as Emily's knife bit into his leg, a sharp cry escaping his lips. He staggered back, clutching his injured leg, his face twisted in agony. The sudden turn of events had caught him off guard, and for the first time, he seemed vulnerable in front of her.

Emily didn't waste a moment. Fearless and with determination, she turned towards the exit, leaving Mark squirming in pain on the ground. She knew that she had just made him angrier, but she also knew that she had no other choice. Her daughter's safety was her focus.

Emily disappeared into the shadows, moving on the sly through the halls of the place, carefully not to be seen by any of Mark’s minions. Her heart was pounding as she heard the footsteps of some people. She knew that she couldn't take on a group of armed men alone, but she also couldn't afford to be captured by them. Beth's safety depended on her.

In the dim light, she spotted a door to her left. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, she shoved it open and slipped inside just as one of the men reached the corridor.

Inside the room, Emily found herself in what looked like an old storage area. Boxes and debris were scattered around, providing some cover. She crouched behind a stack of boxes, breathing heavily, with her senses alert.

The footsteps grew louder as people entered the room. Emily's heart raced as she tried to devise a plan. She knew she had to take them by surprise.

One man walked closer to her hiding spot, and Emily took her chance. With a swift movement, she lunged at him, blowing to his throat and covering her shirt in blood. The man gasped for air, stumbling backwards and falling into the boxes.

The noise alerted the other people, and they turned their attention toward Emily. She knew she had to act quickly. She swung her knife with all her strength, striking another member in the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

But the odds were against her. The rest of the men closed her in, their expressions filled with anger and hatred towards her. However, Emily fought with every ounce of strength and skill she had, landing punches and kicks, desperately trying to hold them off, with some of the kicks landing on her.

But just as it seemed like she might give up, a sudden noise from outside the building and the alarm sound distracted the men. Emily took advantage of the momentary confusion and darted toward the nearest exit.

She burst out of the room and into the corridor, her heart pounding. She knew she couldn't stay in the building any longer. With the pursuit still on her tail, Emily fled into the darkness, determined to find Beth, get her out of here, and find Joel and Ellie to keep her promise to her.

She watched in horror as the infected drew nearer, their horrible forms illuminated by the faint light. Emily's grip tightened on her weapon, her fingers trembling with adrenaline running throughout her body. With each step the infected took, her determination grew. She had lost so much in this world, and she couldn't bear to lose Beth as well.

With a deep breath, she stepped into the fray, her weapon swinging with deadly precision. The infected fell, and the darkness was her ally, cloaking her movements. Emily paused for a moment to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding against her chest when a strong hand suddenly clamped over her mouth from behind. Her eyes widened with shock and fear, and she instinctively tried to scream but was muffled by the firm grip. She squirmed against the person for a moment before realizing the hand belonged to someone she knew.

"Easy there," he whispered in her ear, his voice low and soothing. "It's me." Joel slowly removed his hand from Emily's mouth; his eyes locked onto hers with relief.

She looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief as she met his gaze. He came back for her. For her, it symbolized the possibility of healing old wounds and rekindling a love that had never truly died.

"We need to go," Joel whispered, his voice low and serious.

"No without Beth," she said, and she didn’t move.

"Beth is fine." He reassured her, "She is with Ellie."

Emily's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Beth's name. Relief and worry battled within her as she tried to process the information. "Is she with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah, they're safe for now."

Without speaking a word, they pressed on through the dark corridors, their footsteps echoing faintly as they moved deeper into the unknown as many times as possible.

After what felt like hours of battle, they finally put enough distance between themselves and the threat. Emily signaled for them to stop, and they both crouched behind a decaying building, chests heaving as they caught their breath.

Joel's eyes never left Emily's as they rested there. "Hey, are you okay?" Joel asked

Emily just nodded. "Joel," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I need you to know why I did what I did. It wasn't just about revenge or anger."

"Shh. We can talk about it later." His concern for Emily was evident in his eyes as he helped her to her feet.

He gently cupped her face with his calloused hands, his gaze penetrating deep into her bright eyes. It was a silent moment, filled with unspoken emotions that had been buried for far too long.

Emily met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a complex mix of remorse, regret, and a glimmer of hope. She didn't know what the future held, but she was determined to make amends.

"Joel, why did you come back for me?" Emily asked, her voice soft.

Joel's thumb brushed against her cheek as he continued to hold her face gently. His eyes softened, and for a moment, it seemed like the weight of their past was lifted, if only temporarily.

"We need to go," he said, ignoring her question.

The moment Joel pushed open the creaking door of the rusty motel, the tension seemed to disappear. Beth's eyes widened as she saw her mother emerging, and her voice caught in her throat.

Emily rushed forward, tears welling up in her eyes, and she enveloped Beth in a tight, desperate hug. It was a reunion she desperately wanted to happen. Mother and daughter clung to each other as if trying to make up for all the lost time.

Ellie and Joel watched the scene unfold with warmth. He felt Ellie's gaze on him, and he met her knowing look with a subtle nod, acknowledging the unspoken truth that hung in the air. There was no denying the resemblance between Beth and himself.

Emily had returned from his past once again, and the time for his questions and her answers was coming.

Later at night, as Emily took off her blouse to check on her ribs. The creak of the door swinging open startled Emily as she was examining the bruises on her side. She quickly covered up, turning towards the entrance. Her heart raced as she met the eyes of Joel.

Joel stood there in the doorway, his gaze locked onto Emily. He couldn't help but steal a fleeting glance at Emily as he entered the room. Despite the fifteen years that had passed, she still owned the same familiar features on her body, the same that once captivated his heart. Her presence brought a rush of memories and emotions he had long buried.

However, his gaze quickly shifted to a sizable bruise on her right side, just below the edge of her bra. Concern etched across his face as he stepped closer, his calloused fingers gently pressing against the discolored skin. He couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness over Emily.

"What happened here?" Joel asked as his fingers gently pressed against her ribs.

Joel's touch, after all those years apart, felt both familiar and foreign to Emily. It was as if a wave of memories rushed over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Her skin tingled under his calloused fingers, and she couldn't help but feel a nervous flutter blooming in her chest.

Emily had spent so long trying to keep her guard up, to protect herself from the pain of the past, that having Joel's hands on her now, so gentle and concerned, made her feel like she was a delicate flower. And despite her nervousness, there was comfort in his touch, a longing to be close to him.

"One of those fuckers," Emily replied once she found her voice again.

"Does it hurt?" Joel asked, genuine worry etched into his features.

Emily simply nodded, acknowledging the discomfort and pain that were getting settled on now since the adrenaline had left her body.

Joel's touch was surprisingly gentle as he examined the bruise. His fingers traced the discolored skin, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness over Emily.

"You should slow down a little bit," he said, his voice laced with worry. "I don't want it to get worse."

They locked their eyes, and in that unspoken moment, years of silence seemed to melt away. She was 27 again, and he was 32, and nothing wrong had happened to them.

Joel pressed his forehead against hers. A shared breath held between Emily and Joel existed in a space beyond words. It was a moment of connection, of memories, and of regrets from the past that separated them.

Joel's thumb gently brushed against Emily's cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. "We've got a lot to talk about," he whispered, his voice a mere breath away from hers.

a/n: Okay so there was some tension and you had some answers. The next chapter will be more focused on that btw.

Tags 💌: @joeldjarin @catchallfangirl @phoebe13 @fatima-mar

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widow-maximov · 1 year

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Hi, can I request a Nat x fem!reader oneshot where the reader is singing Russian songs she's heard from Natasha's playlist while doing mundane tasks ie paperwork, washing up dishes etc. The reader not knowing a lot of Russian doesn't realise how explicit the songs are just casually sings them in front of the whole avenger's team splitting the group with the members who can speak Russian finding it hilarious and those who can't just thinking it's a good song and Natasha's just sat there with a whole array of mixed emotions but is mostly impressed with how well the reader is singing.

Thanks in advance :)

Russian Songs

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Warning: The usual tags I don’t really know what other tags would go here, just enjoy :3

Summary: After being moved away from missions and doing everyone's chores. You wanted to be more productive, but was that a good choice?

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: So I couldn't find any explicit songs per say, but I hope this song will work, it's very hard to look for songs in another language, anyway I hope yous enjoy.

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You were known to be a singer, well that's around the compound of course, you weren't brave enough to sing in front of thousands of people.

You loved singing all your life but your passion for doing good was too strong and it won over your life. If you were honest, not many knew about your singing ability.

It's not like you would be parading around and singing, it was mostly when you were doing mundane tasks, or when no one was around. It was like your little secret you didn't want to share with the group.

Even after dating Natasha for 2 years, she still had no clue you could sing and she was a spy so that was surprising, that was until recently..

During training with your redhead girlfriend, she has been putting light music but most of it was in Russian, meaning you couldn't understand anything.

It almost sounded like a challenge to you, to learn that song by heart and because it was catchy so you wanted sing it properly and just enjoy what it meant.

But that was exactly that, you didn't understand it so you didn't know what you were learning, even though that didn't stop you, you still learnt it- Well some of the words.

Somehow you ended up doing all of the chores in the tower, actually there was a reason, Natasha along with Tony came up with a 'punishment' for you.

Your own girlfriend came up with a punishment for you, it was because you ended up surrounded by hydra men, who had you tied up and ready to transport as way to kidnap you and use you to get out what they wanted for the Avengers.

It wasn't even your fault, Shields information was misleading that you ended up in the wrong section of the building, with tooo many armed men and you knew you didn't have a chance so you were glad when Steve along with Bucky were sent to help.

That's how you ended up doing months of cleaning, instead of missions, meaning you cooked, cleaned like washing up, paperwork of your teammates.

Natasha was nice enough to leave her own paperwork to herself to not over work you but that didn't mean you weren't tired, of course you stopped training with her as a way to show her you were mad at her.

But still the redhead knew, you wouldn't be mad for too long. When she found out that you were near to being kidnapped, she got scared.

The love of her life was in danger and she couldn't even save you. That's what got to her, that was the reason why she agreed to the punishment.

It kept you off the missions for a while, she knew you would be safe at the tower. Even if you were mad at her, giving her a cold shoulder most of the day, she knew you were safe.

Eventually she was going to talk to you, when things cooled off a little. But seeing how tired you were every night made her feel bad. She done this to you, with good intentions.

But maybe you didn't see it like that. Natasha never overthought before, she was there in the moment. But with you, she was afraid of losing you.

She loved you, so the thought of you getting brutally beaten, whilst she was so far away from you was taking a big toll on her. Seeing you clean and do everything else was easy to watch. To know that you were there.

That's what was happening right now. Everyone including you were in the living room. Well you was cleaning with headphones on, as after doing so many chores for months. You eventually got bored and just started to listen to music.

Helped to kill your time a little, whilst learning songs that you wanted to know. Being with the Russian has taught you some words. So whenever you heard a similar word you smiled, humming it silently.

Your back was to the door whilst you were washing up. In that moment the team went silence and your singing was exposed to everyone who had ears. Natasha's brows raised in amusement as she listened to what you were singing.

Everyone turned around to look at you. Half of the team understanding what you were singing and half was looking with confusion.

Tony was first to speak up. "Is she singing a Russian song?" He questioned as she looked over at Natasha.

She simply nodded with a big smile across her lips, she didn't know that her girlfriend was this talented. Thor smirked. "If my girlfriend sung like Y/n, I wouldn't even let her stop. I bet you are the same Natasha."

She would definitely beg you to sing for her many times if she knew that you could. She knew that you would be embarrassed about it but still follow through.

She still kept quiet as she listened carefully to your words. "Я заливаю глаза керосином...Пусть всё горит, пусть всё горит ( I fill my eyes with kerosene. Let it all burn, let it all burn )"

She nearly choked on the song choice that was spilling out of your mouth. Yelena, along with Clint, Thor and Bucky, looked over at Natasha for some sort of explanation. But there was none.

Yelena laughed, as she stared at her sister when you sang the words. "Выхожу на улицу гладить кота. А его переезжает тачка мента (I go outside to pet the cat. And he's being run over by a cop's car.)"

Shaking her head in disapproval. "What have you taught this poor innocent girl."

Natasha frowned. "That wasn't me. I mean I listened to this song whilst we trained but I didn't know she could sing it."

Tony was having the time of his life whilst he nodded his head at your singing. "Whatever it is, I love it. She will sing at the next event I have."

Natasha shook her head, knowing that when you find out what that songs means you'll be embarrassed to even face the team. Bucky smirked as he nodded his head. "I think that song suits you Natasha, maybe next time explain to your girlfriend what she is trying to sing."

You tried to sing the song perfectly but not knowing what it meant you mumbled most of the lyrics. Carol walked in as her jaw opened to hear the song leak out of your mouth.

"Why is everyone laughing? Someone tell her what she is saying." Carol walked over after waving at you with a fake smile.

Natasha sighed as she knew it had to be her. She nodded as she stood up, making her way towards you. Wanda rushed in as she heard it as well. Finding it all amusing at how you didn't even know what you were saying. Vision appeared, literally everyone was there. Tuning in on your conversation with the Russian.

Natasha gently tapped your shoulder, you looked over, saw her and went back to listening to the song. She sighed, yeah you were still mad at her.

She got closer, pressed herself against your back, taking the cloth out of your hand and the plate that you were wiping clean. Placing it all down as she spun you round to face her.

For a moment you forgot what you were mad about, this is the closet you two have been since the day you received punishment. Your hands hesitantly fell on her shoulders, whilst she took the headphones out.

"Y/n.. Sweetie.. Stop singing." She tried to say it nicely, but she set you off.

You narrowed your eyes at her. "Not only you ground me in the tower but now you're also telling me what to do."

"You know.. This is my choice if I want to sing or not. You can't tell me what to do." That was sometimes the issue with you. Instead of listening to why she said that. You put up walls and tried to deflect any attack on you.

She sighed as she placed her hand over your mouth, the other sat firmly on your hip. You loved when Natasha was dominant with you, it made her look a lot more sexier but not when you were angry.

"Not because I am trying to control you... But because you don't know what you are singing.." She approached it another way. She had to embarrass you for you to understand what she meant.

You swallowed thick at her words, eyes widen in fear at what your girlfriend was saying. So, she continued. "Have you even tried to look up the translation of the lyrics?"

You shook your head after Natasha took her hand away, this was on the Russian. She should've told you what it meant whilst yous were training. But she was so distracted by you and your body that songs just slipped her mind.

Her eyes darted towards the team, who somehow had popcorn appear in their hands. She narrowed her eyes at Wanda, who simply shrugged as she shoved more popcorn in her mouth.

That's when you got the hint that everyone heard you. Fear set when you looked over. You looked back at the redhead who had a cold expression across her face.

"Let me go. I need to go." You were slightly panicking, you never had anyone listen to you singing, you kept it quite quiet from literally everyone you knew.

Natasha's face softened up as she saw your panic. "Y/n it's okay-"

But you interrupted her. "Let. Me. Go." Your eyes flashes red and she moved away, causing you to storm out. Making the redhead sigh as she leaned back on the counter.

Moving to look at the team who now was looking anywhere but at Natasha. She rolled her eyes at them as she followed you out. It was easy to tell where you had wondered off. I mean she was your girlfriend after all.

As you sat on the balcony edge, looking down at the city. Natasha slowly made her way over to you. "Y/n.." She spoke softly, trying to get your attention so you don't get startled.

You sighed as you heard her, you knew she would follow you out here. "You know the whole point of walking out is not to be followed." You were bitter with right reasons.

It wasn't just the singing, it was the unresolved feelings that you both held. She knew that, she wanted to say something about it all the time but it never left her mouth.

She hummed softly, acknowledging your words. "I followed you out because I care Y/n."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her words. "I wonder where those words were, when I was punished for being the victim."

She knew you were right, how was she suppose to explain her feelings to you? It was all difficult but she had to. She took a deep breath. Looking at your side profile as she moved her hand over to yours. Gently taking it and intertwining it together.

"детка, I know you are mad. I would be too but I didn't do it if I didn't feel like it was necessary." Maybe it was the way she worded it, but that only made you more angry.

Your head snapped towards her, almost making her take a step back. "You're making decisions for me? Wasn't you the one who promised me that we would both take decisions as you never wanted me to feel the way you felt in the red room?"

That stung, but you were right. Natasha promised exactly that and she broke that when she decided your own fate. She sighed, feeling how you snatched your hand away.

Jumped off the edge and tried to make your way back inside the building, but Natasha had different plans for you. "I did what I did because I was scared."

Her words made you stop, you were still facing away from her but kept quiet so she could continue. "When I received the information that you were no where to be found. That your weapons along with most of your clothes were left at the scene. I thought I was going to die from how much fear I felt."

You never heard Natasha's voice that unsure. Her tone was always gentle and quiet when she opened up to you. Now you were facing the door as she spoke with an upset tone.

"It felt like the world stopped for a moment. The first thing I wanted to do was to rush over there but Nick stopped me. They knew that if I went everything could go even worse." She explained as her voice broke several times.

"I can't imagine my life without Y/n, how was I suppose to think straight when you were kidnapped. I knew you were scared I couldn't even be there." Tears were streaming down her face.

"I knew the second we found you, in that state of barely any conconse, I knew I needed you safely here. Where I could keep my eye on you."

"I know that I should've spoke to you about all of this, but I couldn't.." Her tone was just above a whisper. Yet you could hear her.

You turned your body around to face her. Tears sitting tightly on the edge of your eyelids as you stared at her. Maybe you didn't think this through.

Maybe you should've spoke to her after everything. You were so busy with trying to get over the traumatic experience that you didn't think how that impacted her.

The woman that you love with your whole heart. You were busy being angry at her for not comforting you when you needed it, when in reality it was both of you that needed each other.

A light sob came out of your mouth as you walked over to Nat. Hugging her tightly and melting almost instantly in the embrace. You missed her and you knew she missed you too.

No words were needed at this moment whilst she held you tightly against her. Like she haven't seen you for a long time.

You both were crying but you pulled yourself together. Pulling away as you looked at her. Sandwiching her face between your hands. "I'm sorry."

Her soft expression melted your heart and to be fair, if the Russian was honest. You were the only one who made her this open about her feelings.

She shook her head slightly with a small smile across her lips. "No, I am sorry."

You sniffled as her hands sat on your hips, holding you against her quite close. You could tell that she was telling the truth. You never had to doubt her from the way her eyes only looked for yours.

"I want to kiss you." Natasha choked out, letting a set of tears slowly roll down her cheek.

You smiled as you pressed your forehead against hers. Closing your eyes as you felt her breath hit your lips ever so gently. "What are you waiting for?"

She didn't need to say anything else, because thats all she wanted to do for the past months of you being angry. She wanted you close and just to feel your warmth against her lips.

She leaned in slowly as her lips brushed against yours. Feeling how soft your lips felt was really testing her. She missed you so much. Everything about you.

Zero thoughts were in both of your minds as all that you were really focused on, was feeling Natasha. Her hands tightly holding you, her lips against yours as you tried to keep your breath steady.

She pulled away just a little bit as she muttered out. "I love you" Before her lips collided with yours before you had the chance to say it back.

A slightly protest moan escape your mouth, you wanted to say it back but Natasha didn't let you. Her hands sliding around your body. Not letting you out of her arms.

The emotions changed quite quickly but could you blame yourself? You missed each other very much and being in her arms was the only place that felt like safety you needed right now.

Your fingers tangled in her hair and thats the only thing that was on your mind. The warmth-ish air breezing past the two of you as your embrace became more intimate.

That's what you loved about being with her. The power that you two can over come anything that stood in your way....

And make out whilst you are at it.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

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Tag list:

@eilarch, @simp-erformarvelwomen, @madamevirgo @diaryoflife @theprassebox @marvelwomen-simp @razorscooteer @bentleywolf29 @romaaa28 @romanoff-maximoff-lover @fayhar @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ellietorres123 @1uthina @zealousbarbariandonut @alwaysgoodnight @bisexualmess8 @suckerfornatstits @marvel-mcu-3000 @alianovnam @beenicejoy @wandanatvoid @d14n4ol @acertainredhead @xxromanoffxx @sinfulair @jjstar9898 @thewidowsghost @smallestavenger @hot4milfs @androgynouscloudenemy @marie45019 @simpforolderwomen @sammi1642 @gae4redheads @froufrousnowman @princessprudy @lovelyy-moonlight @wizardofstories @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @natashasilverfox @lorsstar1st @teamkiddosp @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @summergeezburr @inluvwithfictionalwomen @aeroae @wackymcstupid @immadowhateva

#black widow #natalia romanova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x you #black widow x reader #natasha fluff #the avengers #marvel

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foggyparadisecandy · 1 year

Text

COLLAR STORY

[CONTENT WARNING: Hypnokink, Mind Control, Corruption, Non-Con, Sexual Situations, Submission, Degradation]

Looking over the photo he had shown her, she felt her mind running through a range of emotions and feelings. She knew he had his kinky side but suggesting she wear this get up? It was like he didn't really know her. "I'm not saying it isn't hot but, you know ... I could never do that!" "What do you mean, babe? You can do anything you put your mind to doing." She laughed at the obvious flattery but didn't take the bait. Looking at the photo again, she let her eyes linger over the beautiful woman and the sexy clothes, feeling a touch uncomfortable and shy.

"Sweetie," she said with a half-smile on her lips, "You know I meant that I could not wear something like that. Yes, it's sexy as hell. But I'm too shy and modest for that." She giggled nervously at the thought of walking around dressed like that woman. And the collar and leash? Even in private for her boyfriend, it would be too much. "Babe, you know I don't like to hear that kind of talk. I don't like it when you put yourself down and define limits like that. I'm serious. You can do anything you put your mind to doing."

It was nice to have such a supportive man in her life after all the creeps she had dated but she found him so damn infuriating when he wanted something.

"Sweetie, look ... it's just not me, ok? I really appreciate you sharing your desires with me and I love how you believe in me but I would just feel too embarrassed. And the collar? I mean ... I just would feel like ... I don't know ... like I was just a pet or something and not a person."

"Look, babe, when you say stuff like that, it tells me you are already imagining wearing it, right? If you are thinking about being a pet in that outfit, that means you are thinking about it, right?"

Ugh. He was so ... insistent ... when they disagreed. Yes, *he was right* that she had momentarily thought of wearing the outfit, and the collar, and even have his hand on that dumb leash, but it was just a moment.

"No, I wasn't thinking about it. I was just saying that was what I felt."

"Ok, babe, I understand. But haven't we had similar conversations in the past? Where you said you couldn't imagine doing something. But then after talking with me, you found I was right? You can do anything you put your mind to doing."

She had to admit that *he was right* about that. Like the conversation to start wearing lower cut tops to show off her boobs better. It was hard to even remember why she was resistant to that idea. She had a great rack and it kind of aroused her just thinking about showing it off these days. She used to be so modest but lately it made her so hot to show off her boobs.

And giving up on wearing panties was a big concern for her initially. Now though? She couldn't even imagine wearing them. She enjoyed the feeling of knowing she was "being naughty". And even at the gym, she loved the looks she got from the other ladies in the locker room when she dressed and undressed without panties. Let them stare. It turned her on thinking they probably thought she was kind of a slut.

*He was right* on both of those.

He had helped her get over those blocks and give in to her desires to do those things. And it felt so good to do anything she put her mind to doing.

But a collar and a leash was just too much. It seemed too much like giving up her own identity and becoming ... less. The low cut tops and giving up on panties were her idea and made her feel sexy because she really wanted them. Not because of his fantasies.

And wearing a collar and a leash would only be done to make him happy and not something she really wanted. It was completely different.

"Sweetie, look, I'm being serious. Yes, you are right," her mind caught a second on that phrase, feeling a quick rush of something, "that I have had some weird preconceived ideas in the past about some things. Yes, I said I didn't want them at first, and, yes, I do love that I got past them. But that was my decision. This is different. This is just something you want. And also ... it would be kind of demeaning to me ... like we aren't equals. Is that what you want? For me to just do whatever I'm told? So you can make me do whatever you want by putting a collar and leash on me?"

"How can you say that to me? That's so unfair. You know I'm your biggest supporter. I'm always telling you that you can do anything you put your mind to doing. I thought you wanted me to share my thoughts with you about stuff that makes me hot? You told me that you wanted that."

Things were escalating quickly. And if she was honest with herself, *he was right*.

More and more often lately, she had been encouraging him to share his fantasies. And she really did love hearing about them and considering them. She usually found she wanted those things more than he did.

Like with her nipple rings. She used to think they were trashy and kind of slutty. And when he shared his love for them, she had told him that opinion and she wouldn't want to look like that.

But ... *he was right*.

She could do anything she put her mind to doing and once she had thought about it, she decided they would be super hot. And now she loved them and loved the feel of them. Yes, she did feel a bit slutty with them on, but that just made her feel good deep inside, and give her a sexual thrill. What's the harm in looking and feeling slutty? It was exciting and hot.

It felt even better once she gave up on wearing bras. She remembered when he first shared the suggestion and, it was so funny to think about, she told him he was a total pervert. Looking back, it was such a silly thing to argue about. She was so worried about people thinking she was a cheap slut.

But *he was right*.

And once she considered it and decided it turned her on, she choose to start doing it, and she found she could do anything she put her mind to doing. Now she felt really fucking hot when she would catch guys and girls staring at her boobs. The cute little nipple rings poking through her tight low-cut tops, now that there wasn't a bra getting in the way.

God. She was getting hot just thinking of how cheap she probably looks to some of those perverts, drooling over her.

She kind of wished she had an audience right now, staring at her, making her feel cheap and dirty. She could barely remember how she was so stuck-up and reserved just a year ago before meeting her guy. He supported her through all her tiny perversions.

And once she decided she wanted to be cheaper and sluttier, *he was right*, she could do anything she put her mind to doing.

She noticed she was staring, longingly, at the photo of the woman in a collar. Feeling her arousal growing. Thinking how submissive and obedient a woman would feel in a collar, controlled by a leash. Feeling how submissive and obedient she would feel in a collar and leash, his collar and his leash. Fantasizing about what that would mean. Feeling naughty and horny as she focused on it, fixated on it, fantasized about it.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be difficult. You are right." Wow. That felt good saying that out loud. A quick burst of arousal. Pleasure. Desire for approval. "You are right." Again. A strong rush of pleasure. Desire. "But you have to understand how I feel, ok? I feel like I've already become so cheap and slutty since we met. I know I really was desperate for all these changes and you probably think I'm so perverted already. But I feel like, maybe, if I give in to this one, you will lose respect for me. Like I'll just be a completely submissive pet, only doing what you want me to do."

"Not possible babe. I support you completely. I love who you have become. You know that I'm right. If you want to wear the collar and leash, I will support you. I don't mind if you become a completely submissive pet for me. You can do anything you put your mind to doing."

*He was right*.

She could do anything she put her mind to doing.

And if she wanted to wear a collar and a leash and feel like a completely submissive pet, he would support her.

She was so lucky to have found him. To have a guy who supported her desire to be a cheap, slutty, submissive pet. She felt the arousal and desire for him growing deeper and deeper the more she thought about his support and how *he was right*.

She felt her pussy dripping with desire and her legs shaking with arousal and desire. Her words barely slipping out of her mouth, she was so hungry for it.

"Sweetie, you are right." OMG the pleasure. "And I love how supportive you are of me and my kinks. I want to wear a collar for you. I want to be a submissive, obedient pet for you. I hope you accept this and don't think I'm weird or anything."

She was so desperate for his approval. Desperate to hear his words of acceptance of her desire. Her perversions. Her filthy slutty perversions that consumed her.

She could do anything she put her mind to doing, as long as she had his permission. His support. His acceptance.

She hungered for his acceptance. She yearned for his acceptance. She would do anything for him to hear his acceptance of her slutty desires.

Hungering. Thirsting. Desiring his acceptance.

Her pussy now soaking wet, feeling her juices starting to trickle down her inner thighs, making her feel like a cheap dirty slut. Feeling so good and so right. So natural in this state for him.

Longing for his words of approval. Shaking with the desire and arousal. Anticipating the pleasure of his acceptance.

"Baby, I will always support your desires. I accept your desire to wear a collar and leash and be my submissive, obedient pet. Ever since we starting dating, I have learned that you always get your way. You can do anything you put your mind to doing."

Hearing his acceptance of her deep desires, she exploded into an orgasm right then and there, writhing and quivering, falling to the floor, overtaken by the immense waves of pleasure crashing over her, making her feel so dirty, so cheap, so slutty, so submissive, so weak, she realized that

*He was right*.

[For Part 2, click here]

CLICK HERE FOR MORE STORIES

[Photos from @darkly-gleaming blog although I don't think they are his]

#hypnosis #hypnokink #brainwashing #mind control #hypnotized #trancing #consensual #safe play #trance

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worldofkuro · 1 month

Note

While im resting after doing my project, i wanna make PT 3 of my hcs !

9. Funny one!! child! Alastor didn't know how to comfort Reader. Like... his mom was really strong and they were just hugging and mostly SHE was the one who comforts him. And now there's a girl who is free with her emotions and she is damn crying. He needs to comfort hwr so Eamon was always with her and sometimes he was trying TOO hard. Like Reader was already calm but he continued to hug her and trying to make her feel better. Idk he finds her favourite food, he talked to her. Everything she was doing with him he tried to do with her. he was almost panicking.

10. Alastor often read her some sweet stories which she asked him to read. And she usually fall asleep on his shoulder, while he was still reading. He even likes that because she was cute. But these stories was too sweet for him, he didn't understand why there's always a prince who can safe princess. why doesn't his mama have her own prince? but if Reader likes it, he will read it for her until she fall asleep and he could ask his mom to have a sleepover.

11. sad one. TW.

I was thinking about teen!Reader who came to Alastor's home and ran into his father. im ashamed to write it, but what if his father was already drank and hit her or do some more terrible stuff, because she is young and he has no boundaries. she would definitely ran into Alastor's room and lock the door just to be safe. Alastor was so angry that he couldn't protect her.

I REALLY HOPE IT'LL NEVER COME TRUE BECAUSE I WANT HER TO BE SAFE.

12. if Alastor fall asleep and she didn't, she would always climd in his arms to sleep on him or hug him while he sleeps. Reader remembers all those bruises and she really wants to be the one who comforts him, because she wants him to feel safe with her. and if it's the day when she has to go home from him, she will put Eamon in his arms so there's at least would be Eamon, who can protect her favourite boy from any danger.

I hope your project is going well ! Good to see you back dear!

9. Indeed, Alastor never had to comfort someone, his Mother would just smile at him and hug him no matter how bad the bruises were. So when you came to him, crying and holding on to him; he was stunned. What was he supposed to do? He would push Eamon on your face the first time, but as he felt more comfortable, he would hug you keeping the fawn close by if needed. When you were feeling fine, he would keep you in his arms , having the power to make you feel safe was too good to pass. You clearly didn’t mind.

10. The first time you asked him to read a story, he was happy. Did you really like his voice so much that you wanted him to read the whole story? But he felt almost disgusted as he read the boring love story. Life wasn’t like this, his Mother never seemed happy with his Father, why did this book tell so many lies? Did you believe it ? But when you said you liked the Prince because he was killing bad people to protect his loved one, he felt a little relieved.That meant you would like him even with his darker thoughts?

11. TW: Sad and brutal one. If you happened to be with his father when the bastard had drunk and he had badly hurted you, physically or mentally teen!Alastor would snap. There are a lot of scenarios, but depending if you were awake or not he would grab the rifle and shoot his father on sight. If the bastard managed to run toward the woods, Alastor would hunt him down with the biggest smile he ever had. If you were conscient, he would want you to come with him so you both would have your revenge. If you did not want to come, he’ll just ask you to close your eyes so he could finish the job. He trusted you so much, for him, you would never break his trust, you would never turn your back on him. If you did want to come, he would kiss you so feverishly before giving you a weapon and running toward the woods. Killing his father with you by his side was… exhilarating. If you begged him not to do anything, he would ignore his father and take care of you. He would wait for you to leave before getting the job down.

12. For Alastor, falling asleep is a real test. He is always hyper vigilant, every time you move he wakes up. But let's say he was so tired that he fell asleep before you. You would try not to move, not wanting to wake him up. It was so rare for you to see Alastor’s asleep face, you would stare at his face for a long time without being aware until you realized that you had to go. Of course, you would put Eamon against him so he wasn’t alone when he woke up. Alastor would wake up confused, he could still smell your scent but you weren’t here…? He would squeeze Eamon once he noticed it, for him Eamon was a part of him and you, a material proof of your bonds which always reassured him.

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