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#believe it or not this is the short version lol
thedevillionaire · 1 year
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Thanks for your ask!! I'll get to it! Let me ask you for 2, 7, 10 and 15 if I may? For Cerb? 😗
Also thank you for your kind words about the list. 💕
Just read your (excellent) answer to my ask, your list is fab and you're more than welcome, and I'm finally back home and able to answer stuff properly now! 😄
2) What do they look like when they don't feel well? Do they dress up to cover up? Do they tend to look sick when they are?
Cerberus is practically unable to not be stylish, and when sick he will maintain his usual appearance/outfits as best he can - which is pretty damn well, actually - if he's leaving the house at all. Casual observers probably won't notice much different, if anything, since his general presentation hardly varies. Those who know him well, though, will absolutely pick up his tells - there's a loss of intensity and acuity that anyone familiar won't miss, and his famously piercing emerald gaze is softened, almost...tamed, for want of a better word there. If he's sick and not leaving the house, he's probably sartorial housebound elegance in dressing robe and silk pyjamas. Rumpling may increase with severity of illness, time and, um, cognac or merlot, probably, lol.
7) How do they trust people? Will they give themselfs up for someone else?
Going under the cut at this point...
It takes a lot for Cerberus to truly trust somebody - he doesn't trust quickly or flippantly, and he usually needs to know someone for a while before genuine trust is fully given. This isn't borne from expectation of betrayal so much as expectation of incompetence, though. But mostly, he's just not interested in sharing personal details with more others than he does - he neither sees a need for it or a point to it. However. The small set of people that he does trust, he trusts deeply. He's immensely trustworthy himself - it's one of his greatest qualities, IMO, actually - and tends to expect the same from other people; if he considers you a friend, he won't tend to question it until/unless proven wrong about this. And although he'll absolutely help his inner circle of friends as best he can for the most part, the only person he would truly give himself up for is Kia, and he would do it without question.
10) Are they easily flustered?
Not at all. It's not like it never happens, but...well, it almost never happens, lol. He's just not that way inclined.
15) How do they deal with loneliness?
An interesting one, this! Cerberus is a fairly naturally solitary person, and he doesn't tend towards loneliness much at all. He enjoys his own company, and can be quite comfortable for long periods solo, actually. Where loneliness does affect him is in moments of remembering past loss, or longing for someone's company who's gone from his life, for whatever reason. But he does tend to snap himself out of it fairly quickly. Any other moments of wishing for company probably just equals "missing Kia right now", lol, and that's usually sorted soon enough!
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fiepige · 7 months
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Hobie Brown variant OC:
I finally decided to make Symbiote!Hobie (nicknamed SH by Hobie, which over time turned into Sage) his own thing, cause I've made so many changes to him that I've decided he's just gonna be another version of Hobie from another dimension.
I basically came up with him when thinking about what it would take for Hobie to truly bond with a symbiote and this is what I came up with.
While he's technically Hobie too I'm gonna refer to him as Sage in this post to avoid confusion <3
Gonna start with his appearance and then move on to his origins and how he got involved with the Spider-Society:
Disclaimer: I cannot draw so I haven't even attempted at drawing his face cause I know I'd never be able to draw him in a way I'd like- So I did the next best thing:
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(He has a normal face I just tried to find a way for me to draw him without drawing his face lol)
Pictured above is Sage and his symbiote K.A.T (and their symbiote form- yeah it's the same as Venom!Hobie cause I like the design lol)
He looks like Hobie but younger- he's around 11 when he's bitten by the spider and fused with K.A.T - he's around 12 when he gets introduced to the Spider-Society
He's got short hair as it was completely shaved off when he got caught by Oscorp - more about this under his origins - he wants to let it grow out after meeting Hobie and being inspired by his approach to his looks (he really looks up to Hobie but don't tell anyone I said that!)
His left iris is white as a result of the symbiote DNA being fused to him. He can make it match his right eye if he concentrates but only really bothers to do so if he feels it draws too much attention
After meeting Hobie he helps Sage get a few piercings of his own
He usually wears a hoodie and/or a mask to hide his face - he's super paranoid and does his best to hide himself from others
Never goes anywhere without his noice cancelling earmuffs - he's got enhanced senses due to his spider powers but they can be a bit of a nuisance since he's also sensitive to loud noises due to his symbiote...
He also usually wears sunglasses to shield himself from sensory overload as he was subjected to it a lot as part of the experiments he was put through at Oscorp - and thus getting his senses overstimulated can result in panic attacks, so he does what he can to avoid it + it hides his eyes as well
K.A.T (Killing Authority-opposing Targets) is Sage's symbiote
It usually stays hidden unless they're alone or around people they trust/already knows about its presence.
If it does show itself it'll usually stay on Sage's shoulder or sit in his lap, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways
The reason K.A.T takes this form is that Sage is a cat person and it used it as a method to make him like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Sage calm down and still does
K.A.T is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Sage doesn't mind but most other people get suprised when they first touch it
If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises - if it dislikes someone it'll hiss and arch its back at them
K.A.T is a more animalistic symbiote and mainly communicates with Sage by letting him feel its emotions instead of speaking to him
To avoid making the post even longer than it's already gonna be I'll link to this post where I go into more detail about the design of thier Symbiote form instead of describing it here too ^^'.
This was originally supposed to be a short summary but I've realised I'm incapable of making short posts when it comes to stuff like this:
Origin:
Sage is a younger version of Hobie Brown. (11 years old when bitten by the spider and fused with his symbiote)
Sage and K.A.T "met" at one of Oscorp's labs
He was living as a homeless kid (having escaped an abusive household a few months prior)
He was bitten by a radioactive spider while looking for a place to spend the night.
He got very sick from the bite and was easily captured by Oscorp goons looking for new test subjects in the streets
Despite his young age Sage is a more ruthless Hobie variant, in part due to his upbringing and due to his symbiote (and the trauma they both go through at the hands of Oscorp)
K.A.T was a new kind of experimental symbiote that was set to be terminated due to it killing all its previous hosts - Sage was their last attempt at fusing it with someone
They decide to fuse it with Sage as he was deemed indisposable due to him seeming more dead than alive - suffering from the venom of spider bite at the time - and thus it wouldn't be a problem if the symbiote killed him too
Since the spider bite was still changing his DNA as he got fused with K.A.T some of its DNA got fused with him as well as a "side effect" during the process
Due to this it's incredibly hard (if not impossible) to seperate the symbiote from Sage without severely hurting them both
His body develops organic web shooters when it fuses with K.A.T - the webs are black and can be shot from either of his 4 arms when in his symbiote form (they can also be shot regularly while in his human form)
Sage develops enhanced senses and a taste for human flesh after being fused with K.A.T - he also has enhanced senses from the spider bite - making it easy to overstimulate his senses and overwhelm him before he learns to get it more under control
Since Sage's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Sage's new powers)
The main scientist behind the experiments is this dimension's version of Peter Parker!
Sage eventually manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on his way out as possible - and eating some of them as well
As a result of their treatment at the lab + his past with his abusive foster family, both Sage and K.A.T have developed a deep distrust to other people - at this point they both consider the other their only friend
Sage goes back to living as a homeless kid, avoiding people as best as he can, but he's also got an insatiable taste for human flesh as well!
He will usually target anyone associated with Oscorp when he's hungry (if none are available cops are the next best thing- his dimension is just as corrupt as -138 Hobie's dimension)
He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)
Due to his senses being extra sensitive + his paranoia from his experiences at the lab and his foster homes, he tries to avoid crowded and noisy places - This all leads to him being more active at night while he usually tries to lay low and hide during the day.
He lived like this for months until a certain event changed that:
First encounter with the Spider-Society
Sage's dimension is blacklisted meaning people from the Spider-Society aren't allowed to go there (cause a spider-person who's embracing their symbiote instead of resisting it is deemed unsafe by Miguel and thus best to be avoided)
Sage does still get introduced to the spider-society albeit through a rather unconventional way:
- One day a portal opens up and pulls Sage through it, sending him to another dimension as an anomaly
Having no idea about what's going on, and being scared and confused about the whole situation, he does his best to lay low and avoid other people.
Because of this he spends a lot of time in the other dimension before the society discovers signs of an anormaly - glitched objects like seen when Kingpen uses the collider in itsv, or the museum that the Vulture appears in in atsv
Sage eventually has his first run in with other spider people when his hunger gets the best of him and he becomes more careless as he turns into his symbiote form to go look for prey
Here he encounters Gwen and Peter B as they're looking for the anomaly causing things to glitch out in the dimension
Not knowing he's a spider person and an actual child, Peter and Gwen attack him as they always do with anomalies - it also doesn't help that Sage doesn't exactly look friendly when in his symbiote form.
He fights back cause these masked people attacked him for no reason so they must be bad guys and of course he's gonna defend himself - it also doesn't help that he's starving and thus not thinking clearly at this point.
Unfortunately for him, these guys have high frequency equipment to deal with symbiotes and thus they manage to subdue him, but not before he manages to fight back, revealing his organic webbing which tips Gwen and Peter off to him having spider powers as well
He's subdued and forced into an electric cage (which brings back a lot of unpleasant memories from his time at Oscorp) and sent to the Spider-Society afterwards
When he arrives at the Society he quickly gets overstimulated and has a panic attack and lashes out in a desperate attempt at escaping his electric cage - also seeing the face of the scientist who tortured him for months everywhere certainly didn't help
Gwen then uses a high-frequency device made to combat symbiotes to force him to revert back to his human form
She immediately recognises him as a young version of -138 Hobie
Her and Peter both panic cause 1. They realise they basically beat up a kid and locked him up. 2. That kid has a symbiote! 3. That kid is a younger version of another spider-person they both know (and who they both know has a very long and strained history with symbiotes!)
Miguel gets involved and a discussion begins about whether they should try and seperate Hobie (Sage) and his symbiote
- The other spiders mean well by this but Sage and K.A.T both panic at the thought of being separated - at this point they really view the other as their only friend as it's been them against the world ever since they fused
Sage, still panicking, tries to protest but they won't listen as they view him as a kid who doesn't know what's best for him
Sage is taken to the room with all the villains while they discuss what to do with him
Here Margo sees Sage and K.A.T comforting each other, K.A.T manifesting physically in Sage's lap, being hugged tightly by Sage as he promises it he'll never let anyone separate them
Seeing this, Margo takes pity on them and 'accidentally' sends them home before the other spiders get a chance to try and remove K.A.T from Sage.
Relationships with other spider-people
Some time later Sage has an encounter with Hobie who found out about the whole mess - despite Miguel ordering Gwen and Peter not to tell him
While Hobie isn't exactly a fan of symbiotes he first and foremost sees Sage as a traumatised homeless kid in need of safety and stability
Hobie offers Sage to stay at his boat whenever he wants (as long as he promises not to eat anyone while he's there), he also gives him one of his bootleg watches so he can come and go as he pleases (and explains that he can also use it to get home to his own dimension if he's ever unwillingly sent to another dimension again)
Sage declines at first but over time he slowly opens up to Hobie and begins to trust him
(He also secretly looks up to Hobie once he trusts him, cause who doesn't? He's an older version of himself who's got a place to call his home, one that he opens up to strangers in need such as himself, he uses his powers for good and not just to survive. He's not afraid to be who he is and draw attention to himself - something Sage has been too afraid to do ever since his time at Oscorp. He's got friends and people he trusts. - all things that Sage wants too but doesn't believe he'll ever have) Also he'll never admit that he looks up to Hobie but he can tell anyways
Hobie's the one that gives Sage his nickname, it started as SH but over time it turned into Sage instead, though he doen't mind being called Hobie as well, it's just easier to go by Sage when both he and Hobie are present.
He still doesn't trust people, especially not the Spider-Society after their first meeting, which made it very awkward when Gwen showed up to visit Hobie while Sage was there - luckily Hobie managed to interfere before they beat each other up too much...
(He trusts Margo a bit as well since she 'saved' him from the Spider-Society - also it's nice to be around someone who doesn't smell like food since she's an avatar and not made of flesh and blood)
He currently lives at Hobie's boat, switching between it and his own dimension as he pleases
Hobie did his best to hide it but he was rather freaked out by K.A.T's presence in the beginning, he did his best to supress it cause he genuinely wants to help Sage
Hobie mentors him in how to use his Spider Powers and tries to give him a moral compass to at least prevent him from eating civilians when he gets too hungry - He usually targets cops or people working for Oscorp but the hungrier he gets the less picky he is
Another reason Hobie took him in is because he knows ostracising someone won't make them a better person and while Hobie doesn't believe in deciding what's best for others he still knows life will be a bit easier for Sage if he doesn't just kill whoever he wants whenever he wants - impulse control is important when you have a cannibalistic symbiote in your body.
- Hobie still dislikes symbiotes but he respects Sage's choice to keep his and does his best to help him control some of the more violent urges that come with a symbiote.
Hobie introduces Sage to his punk ideologies and slowly introduces him to the punk community
Hobie also introduces him to some of his friends but it's a slow process due to Sage having a hard time trusting people - especially spider-people after his Spider-Society encounter
Some of the spider-people also have a hard time opening up to him because of his symbiote
But Hobie's good at making a safe space for Sage to feel like he can slowly start to open up to others
For the first time in years Sage feels like he has someone (besides K.A.T) he can trust and over time he starts to view Hobie as his older brother
And that's that folks! (at least for now)
To the one person who actually bothered to read all of this - know that I'm infinitely grateful that you took your time to read about my boy <3
- I initially tried to keep this short but I gave up cause Sage has been living rent free in my head for weeks and it feels so nice to finally flesh him out and write about him!
You know I couldn't resist making my first oc angsty - but at least he ends up doing better than where he started.
Hopefully you guys like him too! If you have any questions please let me know, I could talk about him forever <3
#help I think I have a condition where I need to make all my new posts longer than the previous one!#can't believe I initially tried to make this post short and then it ends up being 2759 words long...#wasn't sure about his name but I wanted it to be something else than Hobie#so Sage it is!#Also I really wanted the symbiote to be called cat or kat - due to the form of its physical manifestation#so I had to come up with an abbreviation to make it fit lol#also evey time I've tagged a post Symbiote!Hobie this is who I've been thinking of!#I just didn't have a name for him back then#just to reiterate - Symbiote!Hobie and Venom!Hobie are two different people#their symbiote form looks the same but that's it#Venom!Hobie is -138 hobie with a symbiote but everything else about him is still hobie#Symbiote!Hobie is Sage who's another version of hobie from his own dimension#hope there aren't too many spelling errors but it's 1 am here and I've read through it once already so sorry if I missed something!#gonna post this and then go to bed lol#I'm addicted to that angst but I tried to give him a somewhat happy “ending”#though there's still a lot of room for improvement lol#also this is my fist oc which is very exciting!!!#idk if you can call it an oc when he's based on an existing character#but I've made so many changes to him that I feel like I can allow myself to call him an oc <3#Symbiote!Hobie#Sage#hobie brown#spider punk#symbiote oc#symbiote hobie#gwen stacy#peter b parker#miguel o'hara#margo kess#across the spider verse
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speaking of, i’ve seen some like reblog addition once or twice in these past 7 years and been annoyed enough about disagreeing analytically that here i am to just vaguely refer to it and repudiate it
basically someone saying like oh there’s that idea in fury road that instead of chasing after a utopia you should fix what’s already there / what you’ve actually got to work with
like they do in fact get to improve on what they already have to work with but there’s not so much a concept of a Utopia here but rather someone, for one thing, going “yeah this cool, better place exists that i want to go to, because i lived there already”....even these other girls for whomst it is in fact entirely abstract are a) aware that it is an actual place that exists, thusly, and b) aren’t exactly necessarily totally Idealistic about the entire matter, e.g. aren’t assuming they won’t be killed, don’t think they’ll be able to find it, & such
which goes into how it’s not that everyone’s assuming they’re pursuing something perfect out here, it’s that they’re all coming from their nightmare society where they’re not even regarded as people in their own right, and chasing Something Else, which is theoretically going to be better rather than necessarily ideal, and that, again, it doesn’t even Have to be better necessarily, it’s [inciting incident is all these people choosing to take these actions] happening b/c again it’s Something Else, it’s literally Not This, it’s Possibility that [this] isn’t the only thing for them or for anyone. which is an attitude that can be like oh how naively utopian lol of course this is the way it Is so yes, going “what about: not this” is so useless. but naturally i would happen to disagree w/that.
even for things to take a turn into the climax you’ve got like. furiosa has her emotional low point b/c her remembered The Green Place has gone to shit / doesn’t have those qualities it used to have. which is different from like oh disillusionment about a place you Thought was perfect but actually it wasn’t, rather, it’s just outright Changed in the last twentysome years. (and also isn’t completely changed, like, it’s still something of this figurative oasis, it’s still sustaining life in this desert, even if it’s not Plant life nor the people who planted it & rather, the crows & those bogwalking people & whatever else is going on out in a bog).....it’s like, okay Now they’re heading off somewhere that they Don’t know exists at all & nobody knows what it’s like b/c they don’t know if traveling east for months will bring them to Anything Else or not. but it’s just a less concrete version of what they were already after, Something Else, and Possibility. it’s sure Possible there’s something out there actually, though there may not be, versus furiosa knowing there’s definitely something else a few day’s out from the citadel, b/c there is/was, b/c she was there....but that idea there Could Be Something Else is again not like oh there’s utopia out there, nor is it even necessarily despairing, though going back & taking over the citadel Is more concrete, and it Is considered more hopeful by everyone else (who also agreed to the salt flats approach, naturally) which is fun since max Just said that the salt journey was too hopeful lol but is now the one coming through w/the more hopeful and frankly longer shot of an idea.
but also that the reason they change plans isn’t b/c they were ignoring or rejecting the idea of Fixing what was already there, it’s that it’s like, to turn around and go back would just be to die lol, the entire time they were outrunning those parties b/c they’ve got one truck vs [literally everyone else]. it’s certainly not all about convincing furiosa and co of the practical plausibility of that, there sure is like thematic [operating together / with others towards your aligned/shared goals] and hope being repeated specifically mentioned before & now, but it sure Is also the practical plausibility lol, when once it’s like oh you can’t go home again when you were abducted a couple of decades ago, their options are Go Back, where they’ll be killed, or stay living in this part of the desert which is i guess an option, but really the Most Active thing to do from their perspective is in fact to take a long shot, take advantage of the supplies they’ve brought with them, & all pursue the Possibility of Something Else. to consider going back at all certainly involves max having to pitch the idea that it doesn’t actually just mean being killed along the way, or once they’re there. like, they all of course have known it exists, or at least half of them do, having just come from there / lived there a good while, furiosa knows it has resources, but the resources They have are themselves as people & their own relationships, where they see each other as people, rather than being in that citadel with all these increased resources that definitely exist, but where everyone’s an object / tool / property & even furiosa having some power through being an imperator was/is certainly not enough where she had any feasible means to just avoid being killed if she tried much of anything. and where here their opportunity is that the main guy & his whole army can at least be held off long enough to maybe get a foothold in the citadel, making sure to kill the main guy isn’t even necessarily a step in the plan. however it’s fantastic that furiosa gets to do this personally with an epic line that also punches you (or at least me) because it’s also like of course this is such an implicitly fraught history for her behind getting to rip a guy’s jaw off. good for her with that specific revenge that semi spontaneously unfolded but was also imbued with Everything In Her Life. and the girls getting to help her along to that point including again toast as the most similar to her having a direct hand in the last seconds letting furiosa kill him, then being there to take over driving and spit on his corpse. anyways, the thing is that also they know even Maybe turning around would lead to everyone dying anyways, and many people do die, and they also can’t have been sure there Wouldn’t be anything across the salt (or they wouldn’t have done it) and Obviously turning back and taking the citadel from joe with its definitely extant water & plants (and even the people of course, given that of course crucially they don’t (and can’t anyway) just like storm and conquer the place and have to be Let Up / everything that unfolds in how people react to furiosa’s return and joe being dead) is the right (and/or rewarded) choice in this story and it is certainly the choice they end up making, but it’s certainly Not accurate or all that relevant to what’s more accurate to be like well well well looks like someone didn’t want to put in the work and is instead looking for utopia
reminds me very pertinently of like oh how about this postapocalyptic YA scifi novel where one teen girl is now the only person alive in this small town / enclave although she can’t know if there’s any other enclaves or people alive out there, until some adult guy shows up from somewhere and maybe has to recover from some injury idk and they’re like housemates or whatever for a while until he suddenly tries to rape her b/c oh postapocalypse, as a girl you Have to have earth repopulating babies, and then she has to like flee and try to survive in that enclave while he’s trying to sabotage her to force her to have to “cooperate” with him. and the ending is that she takes the like radiation armor or whatever hazmat type suit the guy showed up in and leaves him and that enclave behind entirely and walks off into what may be a totally inhospitable unpopulated world but where a) that guy managed to show up from the outside world and b) she’s like specifically walking towards an area where she’s seen some distant birds so there May be life, but there’s no further implication about whether she’s necessarily right or or whether she’s going to die b/c there’s no one else or no other hospitable area nearby....and if we’re going “fury road is about working with what you’ve got and they have to learn that chasing utopia isn’t going to get them anywhere” then we’re going “wow, a story about this protagonist’s naivete, huh??” about that ending. sounds like Someone’s a little too idealistic
also that naturally it’s completely relevant that authoritarianism as like a structure/ guiding principle needn’t only be found on a scale of [a whole country or something]. quotes about water sure but also the “that’s my child; my property” line, where’s that being shared, it’s not like oh that’s just [the villain] things lol, that’s like, a common perspective even if it’s not voiced that way. you can apply the material to w/e you want irl but in universe it’s like, this one place they’re from is known to not be the only place in the world, it doesn’t Need to represent All Human Society and isn’t That in universe, when i went offroad from [zooms off from parents’ house] i was like wow fury road moments huh. and certainly people have the stance of like umm sounds like everyone should try and Make It Work with their existing family units....and i have the stance of i wish i could fight with a metal arm. like, you wanna make it work that way lol, that’s a possibility. don’t have to presume everything out there is Perfect, or that you won’t even maybe die by getting outta here, but it’s Possibility of Something Else and is already something else, can you argue people necessarily need to be guided by anything else or that that’s somehow the Naive or overly Idealistic perspective rather than “how about you stay & deal with more of the same / your known limited paths for the future as you have for however long? try just keeping at it? see if the regime will feel like seeing you as a person when it’s never done that and to actually change and do it it needs to have Already changed and done it, so kind of an impossible position to be in” and the like. how is one gonna imply like well the mistake that these characters needed to unlearn was leaving in the first place, oh you think there’s something perfect out there, get real?? 
anyways the tl;dr is you know when someone’s wrong and you’re right. i’m really right though lmfao this wasn’t a story about anyone being motivated by the idea of this utopia, it’s about the motivation of needing something else / acting on possibility. and saying the conclusion is like “fix it” lol like again, not utterly irrelevant when these matters are discussed, but it’s like, they’ve Been fixing things, How are they able to fix things, why do further possibilities like “i can fix [the citadel]” become possible....survival happening / becoming more successful with others, individuals becoming more successful with others....people are isolated & stripped of power as their Problems, not that they’re a bit too idealistic about hey time to get the fuck out of here lol
#some rando in some post i probably last glimpsed a few yrs ago ''fury road is good b/c for one thing: [x] :)''#here i am to say NO it's NOT [x] it's good b/c for one thing: that's actually [y]#tagging this one just categorically lol#fury road#the plains of silence? more like the black box of [anyone checking w/e particular tags i'm using] lol#godspeed i mean i'd believe it. i'm out here having seen fury road the month it came out & never stopping thinking abt it since#in fact clearly i am Continuing to think abt it afresh even in addition to all the immediate [thinking about sooo much]#that is i don't feel like ah yes. i have reached Every Conclusion about this material lol. im obv going ''oh hey. new ideas'' this very week#and you know me....short essays to Hope i've made some point about something that would probably be someone else's sentence or paragraph#oh right and once more with canon typicality:#cw rape mention#at this point i'm so like. make windows movie maker absorb this File; make a clip comp that's even limited to like.#here's the dozen shots / ten second moments that i specifically remember making me go Oh. Oh Okay It's Like This [life changes] when just#even seeing it for that very first time in the theater like o_o and i mean naturally the truest version of that is [the whole thing]#but i really remember like a good number of those particular like hWAOH things like Ah. I See [increase of 98589 hz]#anyways tfw glancing over sm random slightly off base point like ugh no. smash cut yrs later arbitrarily walk up to the dash like yknow what#No...#ig also#long post //#not always a hard distinction out here. i need one billion words thanks
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katsu28 · 17 days
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home is wherever you are
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)
warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol
a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH
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“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 
Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 
“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 
“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 
You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 
There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 
But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 
Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 
He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 
It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 
Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 
But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 
You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 
The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.
“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 
Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 
But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 
He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 
“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 
“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 
“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 
“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 
“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 
Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 
Oh, if only he knew. 
You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 
Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.
“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”
“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 
Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 
Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 
He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 
“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 
“You’re really going to be gone.”
“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 
“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 
That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 
 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 
“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 
“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 
You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 
“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 
“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 
“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 
“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 
A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 
“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 
Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 
“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 
“Is that a promise?” 
“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 
It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 
You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 
It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 
You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 
He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  
The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 
Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 
The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 
It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 
But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 
You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 
Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 
Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 
You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 
It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 
Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 
“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 
“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 
“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 
Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 
“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 
This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 
You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 
There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 
It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 
Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 
Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 
“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 
You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 
“Any requests from the audience?” 
“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 
“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”
“Anything you play is perfect.”
“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  
He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 
It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 
Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 
Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 
Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 
God, why were you even thinking of those things? 
It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 
Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 
Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 
Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 
-------
Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 
“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.
Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 
The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 
You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 
It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 
“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 
Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 
“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 
“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 
You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 
“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”
“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 
“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 
“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.
Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 
That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 
His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 
You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 
“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 
But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 
You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 
His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 
That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”
“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 
“Did I—did I do something wrong?”
You almost faltered. Almost.
“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 
“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 
“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 
“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 
“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 
“Then why did you?” 
“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 
“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 
“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 
You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 
Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 
“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”
There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 
Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 
“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 
“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 
A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 
“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.
Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 
You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.
He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 
Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.
A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.
“Do you believe me now?” 
“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).
“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 
“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 
This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.
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honeyshiddendesire · 2 months
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Pet Name Headcannons Masterlist
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Sexy and Everyday 
A lot are redundant but like oh well lol 😂 I only have so much brain power lol 😂 🙄🙄
WARNINGS: 18+
*This is from my old account so it's the un-updated version since I first wrote it on Google Docs then like a dumbass kept updating on Tumblr lol *
This will be a MASTERLIST of snippets/one shots of them using the pet names!!!
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Luffy - mami, mamas, mama, Y/N (I can not stress enough how much he would repeat your name!!) 
Zoro- woman, brat, whore, little girl, princess (in a taunting way-polar opposite to Sanji)
Sanji- my love, princess, daddy’s girl, good girl, pretty girl, mommy
Usopp- mami, babe, baby girl, baby, honey
Franky- darlin, sweetheart, honey, sweetie, baby, pretty lady
Law- baby girl, princess, my love, babe, Y/N (with how hot his voice is he would love saying your name!) 
Eustass- baby girl, kitten, pipsqueak, cock slut, bug, little mamas, cumdump, cry baby 
Killer- darlin, princess, baby girl, little one, baby
Doflamingo- dove, whore, messy girl , love (very rarely would he use ‘love’ but it would mean a lot) 
Sir Crocodile - baby girl, princess, my little slut
Smoker- darlin, sweetheart, love, honey, baby doll
Marco- birdie, mate, baby bird, songbird, little bird (birds birds BIRDS!) 
Thatch- honey, pumpkin, puddin, Angel cakes, sweet pea (food names cause he gives dad vibes 🤤)
Izou- my little cherry blossom, love, dear
Whitebeard-  love, dear, sweetheart, tiny thing, little thing, little one (anything pointing out his size and you can’t tell me no on this 🤣) 
Ace- darling, baby girl, princess, hot stuff, babe (firmly believe he will babe the shit outta you)
Sabo- my love, my dear, cock whore, dumb slut, bitch (just feel like he would love the harsh degradation 🤷‍♀️sorry not sorry 😬) 
Monkey D Dragon- love, dear, sweetheart (him groaning out sweetheart 😮‍💨)
Garp- little one, sweetheart, princess, bratty girl, dirty/messy girl, sweetie, darlin
Akainu- brat, princess, little girl, whore, cumslut, crybaby
Kizaru- lightning bug, my shining star, mamas, baby girl, sunshine (names involving light) 
Aokiji- ice princess, mama, babe, baby, snowflake 
Fujitora- wisteria, darling, my flower, rose, little peony, tiger lily (FLOWERS ALL DAY EVERYDAY!!! Whatever flower you can think of he’s calling you 😍🫶🏼)
Shanks- darlin, baby, baby girl, doll, baby doll, princess 
Benn- doll, baby doll, darling, love, princess
Mihawk- my dear, my love, naughty girl, princess, bloody princess (idk why I picture him speaking Spanish/ Italian saying princessa 😮‍💨😭🤤 idk if he speaks it but shit lol 😂 ) 
Buggy- superstar, rockstar, beauty queen, my diva, doll, clown whore, sugar/sugar bear (what you call him)
X Drake- mate, babe, baby girl, little one
Kaku- lil lady, sweetheart, darling, Raffe (short for giraffe 🦒)
Rob Lucci- Pretty Kitty, kitten, brat, whore, slutty kitty (no way he doesn't have a pet play fetish! ya can’t change my mind on this!)
Paulie- sweetie, pretty girl, darling, baby doll, princess, pretty mamas, my little whore, slut, naughty/dirty/messy girl (secret freak idc! I think he shamed Nami cause he’s a hidden pervert and she was making him feel some kind of way lol 😂 !)
King- my queen, my love, dear, little one, naughty thing
Kaido- little one, whore, brat, bad girl
Vinsmoke Bros- cock whore/slut, brat, woman, slutty puppy/kitty, good girl, pathetic slut, my little whore, mommy (hidden mommy kink!!!)
Red Leg Zeff- princess, sweetheart, kid, honey, doll, darling (old school lol )
*banner*
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l3monlem0n · 2 months
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Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>
SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering
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Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun
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She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband
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As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)
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Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already
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Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke
OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier
"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months
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Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode
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Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol
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Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper
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You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...
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...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)
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Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever
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friggin bug (very pos)
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You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):
NOT judge her
Forced prom date (?)
Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery
The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast
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This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof
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We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot
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There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?
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We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk
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Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded
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Just N being a good boy :3
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The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image
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Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)
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I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is
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Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)
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I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage
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Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun
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This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...
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...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)
(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)
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Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole
Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight
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brehaaorgana · 5 months
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ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.
You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.
DISCLAIMERS:
Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.
Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)
This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.
My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.
I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.
DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???
Okay? OKAY.
Ahem.
You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.
It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.
If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.
They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!
So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.
If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.
Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:
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They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.
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1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.
THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.
You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:
A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.
So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.
The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.
Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.
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goingbuggy · 9 months
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Miscellaneous Notes About OPLA Buggy Because I Adored Episode 2:
The "knows-nose" homophone joke?? So good (not really important i just loved it ok)
I love how OPLA played into Buggy's crew being more circus than crew; the manga has them just.... hanging out on a rooftop LOL. The new theming added so much immersion!!!
Jeff Ward has the standout performance of this season imo. It feels different than Buggy from the source material, but in very good ways; Buggy usually gets upstaged in a very goofy manner, but here, it's clear that Buggy's failure stems from insecurity leading to incorrect assumptions.
Buggy never believed Zoro and Nami would come back to help Luffy because of his own trust/abandonment issues. (His logic reads borderline delusional: "Shanks abandoned me, and he was my friend.. so why would they come back for you?")
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Buggy offering Luffy a place on his crew?? YES. Yet again, Jeff Ward really sells this version of the character -- he is so incredibly frustrated by rejection. Why would a "freak" like him choose to be hurt by others who let them down? (As viewers, we know Nami and Zoro are fighting to get back, but Buggy truly believes they'll leave Luffy behind.)
"You can't make people love you." AAHHHHH!!! Luffy's emotional intelligence strikes again!!!!!!!! It hits the nail on the head. Buggy so desperately craves acceptance/love that it makes him illogical and causes him to have a short fuse.
AND LOOK. OH MY GOD HIS SUBTLE REACTION...... my heart breaks for him
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tldr; Buggy's big mistake in Orange Town is his overwhelming greed, which causes him to underestimate and undervalue others. In OPLA, it is his paranoia and insecurity getting in the way of logic. Both are major aspects of his character, but I love that the live action went a different route, while still staying true to his nature!
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redtsundere-writes · 5 months
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 1. The King Of The Ring.
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Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count:3016 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!
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“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He showed us once again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight.
His body glossed in sweat, his proud smile and the blood of his opponent sliding down his tattooed skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I used to believe that, until I witnessed it myself.
“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read “Team Black MMA Gym” in bright white and red letters.
It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with the most potential of the country. My trainer used to tell me to at least try out to be surrounded by professionals. As a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only other woman there is the physiotherapist.
I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I already had eyes on me. I was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants.
The gym was divided into training areas for different martial arts. In the corner, there was a ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combat. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment.
The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner.
“Welcome, miss.” A tall blonde man called me.
“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He led the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring.
Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me formally. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. The King of the Ring was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, showing off his defined abs and powerful legs, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available.
It was a different experience watching a fighter like him live in action live. The details like the sound of his punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent on the floor, I couldn’t help but gulp hard. He was a killing machine.
“Great job!” Nanami applauded along with some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place.
Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face when his eyes landed on me, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and threw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t pick his expensive gloves up.
“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna said disdainfully.
“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete.
“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned.
“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself.
“Hello? Am I talking with Y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called my gym, desperate.
“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a sponsor or someone in the UFC.
“My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.”
A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight weight class. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring.
“I’ll be straight forward. I don't know if you saw his last fight…”
Sukuna’s last fight was against Suguru Geto in Las Vegas, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, while Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?
In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in trouble. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Geto caged him like an anaconda, ready to choke him to surrender him. Sukuna tried to set himself free by force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight.
“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity.
Sukuna, somehow, freed himself from Geto’s strong grip to reach for his head. With great momentum, he punched him precisely in his jaw, completely knocking Suguru out. I knocked my bowl of chips when I jumped from the couch to watch the repetition closely. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply "free” themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that killer punch was.
“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.
“There are many more renowned coaches who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym.
“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I have called today,” Nanami answered honestly. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”
“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a famous woman for a specific quality, there must be a reason.
“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline, it’s you,” he declared.
An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like I was a slack to deal with. Now I understand why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it.
“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day.
“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers.
“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around to make my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said loud enough with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym.
“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted.
“Didn’t you want me to leave?” I asked, trying to keep my act together.
“What did you just call me?” He dared me to repeat myself.
“Gotcha!” I thought, proud of myself. I know how the male brain works. They can’t let anyone challenge them just like that. I hid my smirk and faced him again.
“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, ‘You are an asshole!’” I shouted from my place.
Nanami quickly got to me, so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me.
“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.
“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper.
“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume.
I put the mouth guard I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom while preparing myself for the fight. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match.
When I finished wrapping my hands, I took my hoodie off, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistled and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, on the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He could be an asshole, but he respected his opponent at least.
“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looked at me from head to toe without shame.
“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, not believing what I just said to his face.
“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.
“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo shrugged before stepping inside the ring. He told us the basic rules for the match, asked us if he was clear, and we just nodded. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side.
A small audience gathered around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to warm up. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His prying eyes were on me all the time. I smiled at him. He could look at me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss.
“Fight!” Gojo shouted.
There is a golden rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have anything other than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just sweep him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.
Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times and was celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way.
I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience howl in surprise.
I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turn on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could choke hold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place in his gym. Sukuna started to breathe with difficulty while his hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas.
“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering.
Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stood tall, leaving him space so he could breathe.
“Y/n “Medusa’s snake” Y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished.
“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I shook it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym, but I didn’t give a shit.
“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice.
“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes,” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted in my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress.
“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on.
I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weakly, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task.
The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone.
“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna, looking tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth.
“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned.
“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk.
“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected.
“Fine, on one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible at floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”
“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he said angrily.
“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his condescending tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfill my condition, I can’t train you.”
“Wait!” Sukuna grabbed me by the arm to stop me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face.
“See? That wasn’t that hard.”
“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.
“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man.
“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.
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Next Part→
Masterlist.
Order your own fanfic!
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
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gaybae1021 · 1 month
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Took a shot at drawing the Stardew Valley bachelorettes!
Maybe I’ll do the bachelors, I’m not as confident with drawing guys though. I definitely have ideas for some of them…
Edit: I did it
Individual pics and thought process under the cut:
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Made penny’s outfit a bit more teacher-like and gave her a big comfy cardigan because the girl needs something nice. Tried to make her a bit chunky to match what I imagine Pam’s body type would be, but she’s honestly so swallowed by the sweater her chub doesn’t really show through lol.
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Probably wins for biggest change from canon, but she was my first spouse so she deserved something special, and the idea of hot pink bell bottom jeans was too good to pass up. Also added a bag for her camera, she may be a fashionista but she’s still practical.
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Short queen.
Overall I just tried to make her look more like an inventor. So things like the motor oil stains and capped boots for safety, plus ample pockets for bolts and wires. Oh and I gave her more textured hair, though I tried to keep the overall square shape language it had originally.
Also her and Sebby both have dimples from Robin.
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Probably the design Im least satisfied with. I knew I wanted Leah to be more butch from the start, but I do thing it strayed a bit far from her characterization, especially with her loved gifts suggesting she has a more lavish taste.
Gave her some gray streaks, implying that she got a bit worn down from city life. I also gave her a tattoo, I thought it fit her living in the city. I imagine a heart event would have her cover it up with something more naturey and personal.
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My second wife! This one is pretty consistent with other designs I’ve seen, though I think I still added my own spin to it.
I personally don’t believe the wizard theory, so I made her natural hair match Pierre’s.
Also the scar isn’t from anything cool, I like to think she just tripped as a baby. But she’ll tell a different crazy story anytime someone asks.
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I love how different the depictions of Emily are, I’ve seen them range from graceful crystal goddess to full on manic pixie dream girl. Obviously my version is closer to the latter, though I tried to balance that out with a sense of maturity, given her job as a bartender. I love her being a giant string bean, like she’s bent over in the pose so she doesn’t look too much taller than the others, but I imagine she’s like 6’ 1”. Also she has a gem bracelet, to symbolize all the rocks I gifted her.
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sweetadonisbutbetter · 2 months
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Could you maybe do a child reader x Ozzie and fizzy? The details are up to you, I just want them to be my dads! Thanks❤️
AWE OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ MY FIRST OZZIE AND FIZZ ASK BLOWS UP (i love them a normal amount) YES!!! This will be more in a headcanon bc I have so many thoughts and if this was a fic i think i would spend a year on it LMFAOO- Reader will be around 11-13! Slightly older kid but still a kid at the end of the day!! Also because my tiktok feed is filled with lamb girl reader will also be a lambkin!! A good portion of the beginning is me explaining the lamb demon premise lol
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To be love is to be changed | Fizzmodeus x Child! GN! Reader
Relationship: Familial Warnings: None!! Pretty fluffy!!
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You weren’t the typical demon, looking more like the sheep in the overworld than any demon in hell. 
Soft fluffy wool covered your body, save for your face. Your rounded snout and big eyes with semi-long lashes differed from the other hellborn children. Black hooved for feet and hands, making it slightly inconvenient to do day-to-day tasks, however, your kin adapted. Visibly the image or purity in a place of debauchery. Seemingly the only speck of light in a place that was consumed with darkness.
Fizz was the one who found you in the greed ring, taking you in after seeing you steal from a Shark Demon. He liked the balls you had to do that (and was insanely worried that something would happen to you if you got caught.)
Since Fizz welcomed you with open arms, and you weren’t that much of a threat (you are literally a child lol), Asmodeus opened you with even wider arms.
Ozze is the mom while Fizz is the dad. Nothing you can say will change my mind on that.
While Fizz does fret over you, it is nothing compared to Ozzie. If Ozzie is at work and gets pulled aside to be told that you hurt yourself or are sick, he will cancel his show and head home immediately.
While Ozzie is a worryrat, he isn’t a helicopter parent. He actually believes that you need your independence, especially since you aren’t that young. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the hell version of Life 360. He tracks your ass so much that if he gets the low battery notif, he is calling you to tell you to charge your phone. 
Fizz on the other hand is more of the chaotic parent. As in you both are banned from the kitchen, both separately and alone. To make a long story short, it started with the fork on fire and escalated to the hallway mat being singed. If you look under the replacement mat, you can still see the scorched marks of soot that were just too hard to get out. But that doesn’t mean Fizz can’t be stern with you. If anything, you prefer it when Ozzie is stern, since it is a little eerie to you when his smile isn’t there. 
Do not be fooled, while they will give you some of the things you want. you will not be spoiled insanely. You still have to pick up around your room (they told the staff not to clean your room), and in turn, you get an allowance so you can buy the things you want. 
If you try to hustle them and tell them that the other hasn’t paid you to get double the amount, literally do not get caught. They won’t pay you for your next allowance LMFAO.
In the beginning, you only called them Fizz and Ozzie, which they respected. It made sense in their heads since they weren’t really your dads, and they kinda just picked you off the streets. However when you got comfortable enough to refer to them as your dads? They were over the moon and cried to each other. 
How you approached the topic with them was by having them sit down in the living room with you.
Ozzie and Fizz were sitting down on the couch as you paced the floor. You had invited them to the living room stating that you needed to talk and asked them to sit. Albeit they were very confused as to what you needed to talk about, and seeing the worry on your face, didn’t really help with the nerves. They were holding one another’s hand as a comfort. There was a brief moment where you stopped and looked at them, before turning and beginning to pace again. Fizz and Ozzie looked at one another, asking if the other knew what was going on and denying it.
“Uhh…Kid?” Fizz starts after a bit, looking back at Ozzie for a moment before he looks back at your pacing figure. “Is everything alright?”
Instead of answering, you stopped and looked at the two of them. You left the room, furthering their confusion. It didn’t take long for you to come back with a laptop, the same one they had gifted you after a month of your stay. You connected it to the TV and put on display a PowerPoint.
“REASONS AS TO WHY YOU SHOULD ADOPT ME AND LET ME CALL YOU MY DADS.”
You had made a PowerPoint to talk to them and ask them if it was okay if you could call them dad
In said PowerPoint, you gave all the reasons (most of which said that you were awesome) and benefits of adopting you (benefits were that they get a cool kid in turn). You also went over the possible dad name variations for them and the reasons behind them. You even gave the origins of the names which amused Fizz to no end.
To make a long teary heartfelt story short, they adopted you. 
However, they had to do so in a way that didn’t get the media’s attention. Just because they were celebrities and figureheads, doesn’t mean they want you in the spotlight. Rather they agreed to wait until you were either close to being or were an adult to even announce that you were their kid (if you wanted to).
This also means that if you wanted to go out, you couldn’t go out with either of them, since the media knows that they were together, it wasn’t too far out of the picture for them to have a kid. This also extends to you not going to hospitals, rather they get a physician to come to their place and check on your health. It is this whole thing where they have a security check the doctor for any decisions or any stuff that could record your existence. (Said physician is threatened that if anything about you was leaked, they would hunt him down personally.) So sadly not a lot of days out together, however, they make up for it with at-home movie nights, game nights, and even sleepovers.
Very keen on your privacy, both in the public and at home. They always knock and make sure to not do anything to cross any of your boundaries. 
Ozzie has to be careful not to talk about too much of his work around you. You may not be a little kid, but you are still a kid and he believes that no kid should be exposed to his field so early in their life. Fizz is also careful not to talk about Ozzie’s work and doesn’t go too in-depth about Mammon’s treatment around you. 
If you are prone to nightmares, they will both personally comfort you. Even if you feel silly about it, since in your tween mind, you are too old to have your dads wait for you to fall asleep because you were too scared, they don’t mind. They will drop whatever they are holding if it means making you comfortable. 
Overall very lovely parents, and they love you dearly. With you in their lives, they feel that they have changed for the better and they cannot imagine their lives without you. Seeing you as their shining light, as they continue to raise you, they hope that your bright light never diminishes.
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omg dude i rewrote this so mant times because the first attempts were kinda depressing bawling NAYWAYS IM SO HAPPY WITH HOW THIS CAME OUT AND HOPE U GUYS ENJOYED HEHE
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zutaranation · 4 months
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Wishing for the Netflix Live Action Avatar series to be bad and jumping to conclusions based on one-off interview comments isn't it. This show is reclaiming its culture inspiration and being led by a majority POC cast and crew, so the hope for its downfall is icky to me.
I've discussed this on Twitter a lot, but not on here. I find it incredibly frustrating that people seem to be wishing for the live action Netflix version of Avatar to fail. This fandom is so dead set on commiserating and hating that they're damning the show before it even comes out and they see a single second of it based on a few lines from interviews taken out of context.
The watering down of sexism from Sokka could be done in just such a way that translates better to a live action format. It makes sense for Sokka to be sexist in a way that believes in rigid gender roles, but still appreciates the roles women perform. In the cartoon, he was more disparaging of women's roles in general. I think this would be a suitable change that still addresses sexism.
The change of Katara's role in regards to sexism I welcome as a breath of fresh air if it's done how I expect. Katara was portrayed as motherly, and I hope that stays, but her motherliness was seen as nagging, annoying, and a bad thing. She can keep these traits, but be appreciated and not depreciated every second and seen as a bore. She is also a child and deserves to be viewed with the same depth and appreciation as the others.
The Game of Thrones comment also makes sense. This is a show primarily for older audiences who grew up watching Avatar. GOT is a popular, beloved fantasy drama series. Many people who watched ATLA as adults compare the appeal of Avatar to GOT. The comment does not mean that the show is going to have sex scenes and SA scenes. It means it's going to appeal to that sort of audience, which makes complete sense for a fantasy live action series. The head runner of the live action show also stressed that the integrity of the show and its characters remaining intact was pivotal to their depiction. So, striking a balance between making this something fresh and interesting in its new medium, but staying faithful to the original should actually be seen as a promising aspect for the series, not something detrimental. I'm so hackneyed by this fandom's obsession with dragging everything down.
Azula having a bow and arrow is badass. Zuko had the dual swords. I have no idea why anyone is mad about this. It's cool. Her coming in early in an 8-episode series makes sense. She's the best villain in the show, she SHOULD get more screentime. It's not like Toph where her Book 2 introduction is concurrent with the pacing of the plot. I also hope Zuko is on the gaang's side for the entirety of Book 3. I always thought that would have made more sense, gave us better friendship building moments, and improved pacing. This criticism confuses me.
And, the thing about Aang not going off on side quests is simply logical. Of course Aang can't be mentioning side quests and frivolous detours like riding on the sea eel (sorry I forget its proper term rn lol) because the way the show is being adapted does not have any time to show these kinds of filler episode scenes. It's being reimagined as a mini series drama with 8 episodes. It makes no sense to subdivide these episodes to include filler moments, so of course Aang needs to be more plot driven becasue there's less breakdown in the episodes because there are less of them. It doesn't negate his childlike eagerness and faithfullness to his original portrayal. It could also serve as an enhancement where this 20-year-old series fell short, despite its successes.
This is a reimagining, otherwise there's no point. A carbon copy would be absurd and terrible for anyone to watch. Wishing a show to fail that was created by an almost entirely POC cast reclaiming the show's culture is so icky to me and I think it's a disservice to this fandom. I'm hoping for the best and being cautiously optimistic. Of course, things could go sour, but why expect it? Why not hype the show up instead of aspire for its failure? Especially in the Zutara fandom, we should be better than this. There is so much opportunity for this series to correct the problems our fandom at large has been complaining about for years and years.
For the bulk of the fandom, including casual and nostalgic fans, they don't know the horrors of the behind the scenes nonsense Bryke, the two white guys who created ATLA caused. So they're crapping on this version left and right because Bryke left. Bryke didn't even create these characters' depth. They didn't write the intricacies of the beloved episodes or develop the characters the way people are so found of. That was the other writers. Bryke wanted Toph to be a boy and have a love triangle with Aang and Katara. They also wanted Azula to be a boy. They wanted Iroh to betray Zuko and be pro-Ozai at the end of the show and Zuko have to choose between Iroh and the fate of the world. The other writers changed this. Look at the mess they made of LoK without the input of the other writers when they were writing entirely on their own in Legend of Korra book one. Their removal is a chance of further improvement.
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sleepingdayaway · 5 months
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GAGGGRGRGRG IMMEDIATELY RUSHED TO THE ASK BOX WHEN I SAW UR REQUEST WERE OPEN I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, WOULD IT BE ALRIGHT TO ASK FOR A PART 3 TO THE PLAYER HAS YHE FIERE DEITY MASK??? IF NOT JUST IGNORE THIS REQUEST!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY
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HSDFBAEJRBFUHVFDB HOLY CRAP??? I DIDN'T EXPECT FOR YOU GUYS TO HONESTLY LIKE THE FIERCE DEITY STORY.
Once again! It's short so my bad. When I first wrote this it was supposed to be just 1 part lol didn't expect y'all to genuinely like it. :)
Characters: Time, Fierce Deity, and Reader
Warnings: None
The silence was so loud after those words were spoke.
The group of blondes all looked at the eldest in fear that the man would just pounce on the poor individual who, quite obviously, has no idea on what is going on. Who has just simply grown attached to the first thing that showed them kindness after being woken up in a place that wasn't their home.
"What in the actual fuck?"
Time is regretting even trying to bargain with the individual as they hold one the most dangerous mask, in their hands.
Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to simply lunge for it, but Time's rational part of himself is refusing to submit. It would be unfair to them. Really, the person looked exhausted, their body tensed as if they were fighting moments before they arrived. There was also a slight hint of fear and caution in their eyes as they scanned him and his friends. Subtle signs that they might've used the mask before they arrived, which surpised him that the young adult is still standing.
Said person flinched back at his words. Unconsciously fidgeting with Fierce Deity in their hands. "He says your name is, Link," they continued with a look of hopefulness as they made eye contact with Time's eyes.
"That you could help me? That you were taken by this freaky shadow thing-" [Name] ranted on as their posture slowly relaxed. In return, Time's shoulders slumped slightly as he stares at them.
Eventually [Name] drifted off and stared hesitantly at Time. Searching for any more signs of hostility since he did look like he was going to fucking tackle them into the ground earlier. If they were to even move an inch.
A familiar chuckle echoed in their head. "You aren't wrong there, little one" Fierce Deity teased. "The young hero used to always dive head first into situations without a plan." The Deity merely found this entire thing amusing, and was he going to enjoy it as much as he can.
[Name] tenses up. Okay, they may not know what the fuck is going on, and it's really unfair that the Fierce Deity mask? Person? Has a really hot voice.
"I swear to god, if you say shit like that unannounced I'm going to throw you-"
"Excuse me?"
A noise of fear escaped from [Name's] lips at the acknowledgement. Their hands loosened for a moment before squeezing as if they were warning the entity in the mask. A hesitant smile appears on their mouth as they look up at the older man.
'Holy fuck- if I'm holding the Fierce Deity mask then that means I'm speaking to Link-'
[Name] does a double take at the blonde. He's quite tall, no longer the small hero that ran around helping the land of Termina and Hyrule. The young boy is nonexistent but they believe he hasn't been that youthful optimistic child he once was for a long time.
When did their precious boy get freaking tall??? Wasn't most versions of Link smaller than the average Hylian?
"I wasn't talking to you! The mask said something stupid so I-"
"He can speak to you?? What- you can hear him??"
"My brother in christ if you interrupt me again, I'm walking the other direction."
A smooth deep laugh echoed in their head at the short responses. Fierce Deity relished in this moment; the familiar bickering between the older hero and the young guide.
It brought him back to the moment during the Hero of Time's journey. During the final fight with Majora, the Fierce Deity was conscious during the entire battle. Giving his strength to the young hero and his guide. A moment where the both of you were panicking. Which then caused a stressed conversation between the two of you.
"Link- Link I swear to god if you take off this mask because you think it'll be funny. I will make sure Majora punches you so hard you blackout for the rest of this fight"
"Oh come on! It'll only be off just for a moment."
"NO-"
Oh yes. The God could only wait and enjoy on how everything will go. He will refuse to speak up and explain on what is going on. In his eyes, why not let the children piece everything together?
Besides it fine to let himself be a bit selfish in knowing who you are. It has been a long time since he's seen you. You can't blame him, can you?
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flowerandblood · 2 months
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (25)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.
You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.
You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.
He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.
How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.
He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.
This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.
He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.
They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.
No, he thought.
He was no longer a small child.
He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.
He could not allow himself to be weak now.
He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.
The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.
What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?
What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?
Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.
How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?
To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?
He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.
As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.
"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.
His heart pounded harder.
You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.
"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.
"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.
"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.
"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.
Fuck.
He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.
What had that whore said to her?
"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.
His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.
"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.
That we should not return to Harrenhal.
That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.
She warned her.
Why?
He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.
The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.
That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.
He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.
She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.
"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.
That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.
He thought she would loathe him forever.
He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.
"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.
"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.
His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.
"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"
She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.
You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.
She was right.
She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.
It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.
It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.
He was the one who made her try to take her own life.
He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.
And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.
For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.
Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.
To his Rheanys.
He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.
He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.
"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.
He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.
"One more time."
He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.
You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me.
But he wanted her.
He wanted his childhood friend.
His lover, his companion, his joy.
She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.
"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."
He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.
"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.
He was completely helpless against her.
"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.
"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.
"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.
He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.
This, however, did not happen.
The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.
His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.
He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.
He said nothing.
As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.
"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.
"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.
He decided that he would trust her.
His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.
"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.
He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.
Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.
"Mother?"
"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.
He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.
Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.
"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.
"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.
"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.
"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.
What?
"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.
Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.
"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"
He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.
She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.
"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."
He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.
How could he ever doubt her?
Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.
"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.
"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.
He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.
That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.
"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.
However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."
An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.
His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.
"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.
Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."
He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.
I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.
She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.
He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.
No, he thought.
She was no longer her daughter.
She was no longer a bastard.
She was his wife.
When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.
Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.
The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.
He nodded his head.
His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.
She had agreed.
Gods, she agreed.
"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.
"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.
No.
None of them could stay here.
He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.
"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."
His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.
"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.
"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."
Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.
His wife was right.
He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.
He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.
"Well…I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.
He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.
He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.
His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.
He hadn't betrayed her.
He would never betray her.
So why did he feel so guilty?
"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.
"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.
He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.
She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.
He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.
He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.
So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.
He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.
He felt shame filling him.
As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.
"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.
"Me too." He heard her whisper.
After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.
He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.
He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.
Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.
Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.
Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.
None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.
They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.
She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.
His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.
He accepted her words with relief.
As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.
He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.
"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.
A sign of how long she had not been here.
His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.
"− yes −"
He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.
He thought he was touched.
"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.
She couldn't believe she was home again.
He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.
He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.
"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"
He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.
"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.
"Let's go to bed."
He wasn't going to fight her.
He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.
His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.
He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.
He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
When the moon rises
over the dark sky
When you hear from afar
my bitter cry
Know that I long
Know that I long
Know that I long
When the sun rises
over the bright sky
When you hear from afar
my joyful cry
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
And then sleep fell over him.
His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.
"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.
It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.
"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.
Green irises, luscious as grass.
"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.
He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
What had he done?
"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.
Disgust.
"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.
He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.
When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.
"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.
"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.
"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.
"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.
He was the reason for this.
He had done this to her.
"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.
As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.
He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.
His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.
"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"
He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.
"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.
"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.
For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.
It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.
That all was not yet lost.
He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.
"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"
216 notes · View notes
luvtak · 9 months
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you can hear it in the silence, njm
✧ pairing na jaemin x reader
✧ genre/tw est. relationship, crying, reader is drunk weeping lol, fluff fluff fluff!! suggestive at the end, reader is described to be smaller than jaemin, basically you love jaemin so much you can't stop crying about it and he loves you too!!
✧w/c 1216
✧ a/n cooked this one up after weeks of writing nothing lmao, i love jaemin and thats what started this. i hope you love reading it as much as i liked writing it <3
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You wonder how silly you look, eyes flooded and nose pouring out snot.
It’s not the crying that’s silly, it’s the reason for the tears—your boyfriend’s smile spread miles across his face laughing at his friends. He just looks so beautiful, every bit of the boy you fell in love with those months ago shifting and changing himself into the version he is now. Always so gorgeous and so kind that you can’t help being moved to tears by this joyful vision of him.
Maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through your system pushing past playful debauchery and welcoming melodrama, or maybe it’s just that you love him.
You love him so much you find it hard to talk about, only letting out the words in the quiet cathedral of your home together. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, carrying enough confidence in his affections for the both of you—he’s fluent in love, knows how to carry a conversation in his heart and his body, knows all the slang terms and cultural practices; he’s an expert at love, even more so at loving you.
Somehow, he always knows exactly what you need, handing you a cup before you can say you’re thirsty, calling you at the precise time you leave to walk in the dark, kissing you right before you say his three favorite words. So, it’s not surprising when he looks up to see you with tears spiraling down your face.
Although, he can’t tell if their happy tears or not. He thinks in some part of himself that they must be, that if you were so heartbroken you would’ve parted the crowd of people to get to him—or worse fled outside or to a bathroom, somewhere to cry by yourself. But you look so sad. A picture of pain, standing all alone in a corner—bliss and mischief touching everything but your tragic little bubble.
Without warning, Jaemin finds himself rushing to you, offering only a short see you later! Before separating himself from the boys surrounding him. You’ve caved into yourself, crying and sniffling about something he couldn’t understand, what happened in the forty minutes he’d been away from you to make you like this?
“Hey…hey, look at me. What’s wrong? What’s on your mind pretty thing?” his voice so quiet in such a loud room, the deep timbre of it reverberating through your shaking frame. It cuts through the electronica coming from the speakers and finally your eyes meet. And there he is, your disgustingly pretty boy. So handsome and darling even with worry in his eyes, boyish beauty covering every inch of him. How you love him, and this love only makes you cry more: barely getting your words out,
 “Oh, it’s nothing Jaemin, I just love you.” Your speech is slurred and spluttered out, almost indistinguishable from the whimpers and sobs from before, but he hears you. He thinks his ears must be fine-tuned to your voice because there is no other way he should’ve been able to decipher your upset dawdling’s.
 “You silly creature, why would you cry over me?” “Jus- just love you that’s all. Can’t believe you love me too.” Your words end in a huff, blanketed by the sound of his arms pulling you in. He’s so tall, bigger than you in every way and yet you fit together like a puzzle. His arms caging you in, pressing so close to put your ear to his heart. It’s beating so fast, pulsing beneath your head in an uneven rhythm, he must’ve been so worried. It makes your head hurt a little thinking about your sweet summer boy looking up to see you like this, rushing over for nothing but the drunk ramblings of someone who should probably be in bed.
“So, these are happy tears?” a nod given hesitantly from you in response, you aren’t quite sure they are happy—more of a mix, a bittersweet concoction of future happiness and past regret that you can’t seem to name. “Promise?”
“Yes, Jaem, I promise.” it’s only then does he let up, pulling you away from his chest for just a moment to look at your tear-stricken face. He loves every version of you, but he wished he didn’t have to see this one; Sleepy and sad and crying over silly things.
“I love you so much, and I’m glad you know… even if it makes you cry all alone at parties.” Your smile is a shot of spring, giving new life to the previous tragic picture of it. He wishes you were alone, free to love you in all the ways he needs to. He knows these party patrons won’t mind, but you would, and he’d hate to make you uncomfortable in any way even if it is just a kiss in a crowded room—you’d care, so he cares.
He knows you need to leave, knows this loud pulsing of music is doing nothing to calm the storm in your head, he knows he needs to be sensible. With one last embrace, whispering his true feelings, he offers you his hand and says, “Let’s go home, huh?”
The walk is fast, but the night chill bites. Sobering you from the inside out and forcing the two of you to stand together like you’re in a three-legged race—laughing and stumbling into the dark. He jokes and teases and wishes for your smiles, not daring to kiss you until your eyes light with happiness instead of this strange melancholy you found yourself in. When you finally grin up at him, he thanks God you’re alone.
 Finally, there is no one around but your boy and the stars, smiling down at you and waiting for your next move. He presses his hands to your face to trace the path your stray tears took. He’s such a pretty boy, alive and electric and in love, and all you can do is kiss him. A slow press of your lips before he takes control, searching for the love on your lips, whittling you down to the bone so the only thing on your mind is him, him, him.
He tells you he loves you too in between kisses, it’s so messy, smiles meeting in the middle and clacking teeth. Kisses so harsh you wonder where your sweet boy went, just for him to shift back—tender hands on fragile skin.
 You think this is what it means to have found your person, trusting your heart and your body in someone else’s hands and walking into the night.
Jaemin’s body is warm, so yours is too; his smile is the crescent moon above you, reflecting off your own until you’re both smiley fools rushing towards your front door. You know what will happen next, you know he’ll show you how fluent in love he really is—show you with his hands and his heart and his tongue, how he’ll tuck you in and tell you his three favorite words. You know you’ll wake up to his love again, surrounding you like the early morning sun and making you cry tears of pleasure instead of bittersweet pain.
You know you’ll be happy and in love,
and when your pretty boy tells you, I love you sweetheart, you’ll say it back.
You are in love.
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© luvtak
406 notes · View notes
fagidarity · 9 months
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y’know generally i try to limit colour palettes to as few colours as possible to make things more cohesive but despite my best efforts only jay ended up being able to stick to that </3
ANYWAYS here’s the as-of-right-now fully updated designs for these dickheads. these will no doubt undergo even more tweaking as i draw them more but this is a start i guess. also pls open the pictures to look at them properly i worked so hard LOL
some random notes under the cut yaaaay
chip —
he jingles when he walks. somehow he’s still stealthy. i do not know how
kept the platinum ring that bonded him to gillion in the block! because hey he doesn’t really have a reason to take it off (and it’s a nice reminder of how much gill cares about him, and how far their friendship has come since that ice arena)
his tattoos shift and flicker like actual flames, and sometimes (harmless, purely aesthetic) sparks fly off them when he’s excited
i just think smoke coming out of his mouth when he’s angry would be cool :]
chipped teeth from biting rocks and coins all the time :/
he has scars from the red lightning, they’re just mostly contained to his back and shoulders. they’re a similar red to his coat even once they’ve healed
gillion —
the tail sleeve thing is so he can rest it on the ground without damaging his scales, he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s just on the ship because the wood is soft enough that it’s usually fine + it can hinder swimming a bit. it’s mostly meant for places where there’s cobblestone or gravel streets and such. i think his armour would probably have a version that looks similar but covers the whole tail minus the fins, maybe with some armour plating of its own. i didn’t draw it because there wasn’t any room lol
his scars from the lightning are pink mostly because red stood out too much tbh. they softly glow in the dark the same as his coral and the pink parts of his fins
also kept his ring! his hands aren’t really made for jewellery, though, because the webbing means it won’t sit very secure on his finger. so he keeps it on the same chain as the necklace he got from aslana to keep it safe
tried to make him look a bit bulkier and more his age than in my original design? i feel like i was leaning too much into the naivety and. shortness. originally lol. he also has thicker eyebrows now and i’m still trying to decide how i feel about them but i think? i like it? i don’t tend to give many character thin eyebrows so it could’ve been a unique thing for him but alas
i think i made the sword too small but like ignore that
also forgor to include pretzel </3 that’s okay though she can get her own design sheet later. she’s special like that
jay —
i believe in tall jay supremacy
blue magic! i was considering gold but that’d look a bit more like a canary than i wanted for her wings so. blue jay :]
her hair is supposed to look kinda like fire to mimic her dad ! kinda showing that even if she runs from her family and the navy they’ll always be a part of her. and also i just like drawing messy hair
i gave her sturdier gloves just because i feel like it fits her better. also changed up the shirt to more of a button up solely because i don’t like tank tops very much LOL
i did WANT to make her outfit a bit flashier to match the boys better but i couldn’t quite figure out where to Put the flash. maybe that’ll come later, the way the story’s going i might get to design some cool prosthetics for her or something
overall —
because there’s just so many fucking colours i triiied to add at least one or two colours from each of them into the others designs. jay has her necklace with each of their main colours on it, her wings are the same blue as gillions eyes, her jacket and right eye are the same dark blue as destiny’s blade, her hair is the same orange as the lighter part of chips tattoos. chip has a dark green sash under all the belts, the same as the hilt of destiny’s blade. they all use the same shades of black, gold, and brown
the only real exception is gillion doesn’t have anything from the other two because he has Such a specific colour palette and he already had so much going on as-is orz jay was obviously the easiest to do this with because she has both warm and cool colours in her palette by default lol (and i did her design last, so that helps)
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