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#does he play into being having Pit Madness?
bluerosefox · 13 days
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One in the Same
Hmmmm
Hmmmmm
So we know during the time Tim lost in spleen (his Red Robin run) and wakes ups next to the pit he almost believed he had been tossed in the Lazarus Pits.
What if
Now hear me out.
What if he actually was.
But what if instead of gaining Pit Madness, he unlocked his past life memories.
His memories of being Daniel 'Danny' Fenton and Danny Phantom.
And once the memories returned so did his ghost form and powers.
And as Tim sits at the bottom of the pits, crossing his legs and letting all his memories slide back into place he questioned what to do now. He pondered for a moment and hummed tapping a finger to his chin.
Maybe he'll play the Pit Madness card? After all Ra's chucked him in here to either turn him into a mindless rage machine he could manipulate or see what the Pits would do to a mind like Tim's. Or Tim could pretend to be a silent rage, a calm before the storm.
Well, Tim grinned his eyes glowing green as he stared at the surface of the Lazarus waters above him, he was very good at lying this life time around. After all he was Tim 'I can even lie to Batman and get away with it' Drake-Wayne and he did used to be Danny 'Commit to the bit' Fenton/Phantom.
He was going to have fun playing that fruitloop named Ra's like the cheap kazoo he was.
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waywardsalt · 1 year
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i have planned to write a pseudo-essay or some kind of detailed look at linebeck in phantom hourglass and how he can be interpreted as autistic but thats not going very well right now so here are some autistic linebeck headcanons
He has low empathy and as such has a hard time responding very well to emotional situations, but he can take advantage of his lower empathy in situations where empathy could make things harder, like tending to wounds or rationally handling emotionally-charged situations
His coat is a comfort object and he made it specifically to act as a very slight accommodation; it’s heavy and barely lets any light through it, and he can keep all kinds of little things in pockets sewn into the inner lining, but larger objects do make it more uncomfortable to wear at times. It’s mostly good to carry around things to fidget or stim with and can be helpful in trying to recover from overwhelming sensory experiences
He doesn’t usually stim in public, but taps his fingers on tables quickly and tends to rhythmically snap his fingers when excited, and on his ship is more vocal and more willing to stim, even if around others. One of his main stims that he’ll do for no particular reason is that he’ll hold his arm or back of his wrist/hand up to his nose and mouth for the smell.
He masks frequently to please people. His default mask is that arrogant and brave front he puts up for islanders and other he may come across. Usually, if that mask doesn’t work, he tends to double-down because it usually works and, in his experience, dropping the mask has usually gone badly (non masking he’s rude and blunt but more outwardly excited about adventure and his ship and all of that, i consider it where overseas in the game is when he usually isn’t masking. this shifts his arc to be about him learning to stop masking and feel comfortable being himself)
His special interests could include stuff related to treasure hunting but it could really range from stuff about adventuring or the ocean or engineering (relating to his ship) to stuff not at all touched in the game like music. He really enjoys music, listening to it, playing it, and writing it. He also enjoys and is fascinated by shellfish.
When busy or otherwise occupied, he doesn't usually notice when he's hungry. He doesn't have as much of a problem noticing thirst or exhaustion, but feeling hunger is a problem for him, and often leads to him going a long time without eating. On the other hand, he doesn't mind eating the same thing repeatedly and is perfectly fine with blander foods, so handling food supplies for when he'll be overseas for a long time is easy for him.
He knows he's autistic, he's known for a pretty long time, and he has books on it; he also knows that Link is autistic, but doesn't say anything about it and instead waits until someone else tells him. Until (and after, I suppose) Link actually learns that he's autistic Linebeck just makes sure to keep note of what accommodations he might need and if there are any textures or tastes or smells he can't stand. He doesn't have much of a problem helping out during sensory overloads, even soon after meeting him. It's more out of understanding how it feels to not have your needs met and a sort of solidarity rather than actual friendship.
#loz#legend of zelda#phantom hourglass#linebeck#OBVIOUSLY he experiences some nasty rsd and he's a bitch about it that's like. basically canon so i didnt mention it#a lot of linebeck’s autism is based and referenced off of my own with some extra additions#which is why i have an easier time writing him as autistic than link#kindness is a choice and having low or no empathy does not in any way make someone heartless but linebeck does abuse his own low empathy#to be a mean bitch with minimal emotional consequences#i think linebeck would call link a dipshit to his face and then not feel bad about it for like a few weeks until he starts caring abt him#linebeck stimming by smelling his arm is actually my main stim. its probably why i sit all fucked up bc i sometimes do it w/ my legs lol#the masking bit does kinda fuck some stuff up but i personally enjoy that take on him#one of his comfort objects is an old orange cat plushie named copernicus and if you know what that is specifically from thank you im sorry#linebeck being way into music has no canon backup i just like the idea of him playing piano and composing some form of his own theme#piano is a mad sensory experience btw i dont yet know how to really play it but when i did keyboard in pit it was a fantastic feeling#bangin' out the tunes. it was a really good sort of stim if i was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the new tech and music too#salty talks#not entirely an autism headcanon but he thinks gender is a sham and less identifies as a man and more specifically considers#his gender identity to be 'real man of the sea' which is initially kinda silly but kind of a fucking gender move tbh#i dont think he's explicitly trans or nb he's just having fun fucking with his own gender and doing whatever he feels like doing#he isnt a man but he is a man. kind of like how im a dude but also not. yeah.#these were initally going to be call 'quick' headcanons but you can see why i uh. didn't end up going with that
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tojipie · 6 months
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adah imagine prisoner!toji getting eaten up by his own thoughts one night in his cell. because how can this be satisfying for you? having quick sex once every two months? a girl like you deserves so much better. so he brings it up one time during the visits, and you see how hard it is for him, but still, through gritted teeth he reassures you he wouldn’t blame you for indulging in someone else every once in a while. JUST THE ANGST!! and reader of course being like … what the fuck are you talking ab i jerk off to your pictures?
prison bf toji series linked here <3
content: hurt/comfort, angst
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“and then turns out there actually was a fucking rat in his cell,” your boyfriend wheezes, his booming laughs marking the end of the story he’d been telling you for the past half hour.
the visiting hall is bustling today, packed to the brim with the wives, partners, and kids of the state’s incarcerated, all making the drive up right before new years.
you notice the sudden silence as your shared laughs die down, bemused at the inmate’s choice to not keep the conversation going.
“you okay?” you ask, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers.
except toji doesn’t squeeze your hand like he always does, letting the appendage lay limp in yours.the older man opens his mouth to say something, looking around the busy room with a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.
“do you miss.. how we used to be?” he asks, voice sounding detached.
something sour stirs in the pit of your stomach at the way he’s acting. if the sudden change in ambiance didn’t give you whiplash, his vague question definitely did the job.
“i mean, of course i do,” you laugh nervously, rubbing a thumb softly over his knuckles. the inmate squeezes back this time, quelling the storm of anxiety bubbling in your chest.
“the sex i mean,” he explains, looking up from the floor to speak to you head on. “do you feel.. deprived? are your needs getting met?”
your thumb stills for just a moment as you think it over, though you doubt he even notices. the truth was yes, going from getting fucked every day to getting fucked every 6 or 7 weeks wasn’t exactly ideal. but what else were you two supposed to do? the man was serving a 7 year sentence for christ’s sake.
toji takes your momentary silence as an answer, sitting up straighter before speaking once more.
“i’m just saying if you ever found a man to fill in the gaps then i’d be open to it,” he explains. you notice a hint of unsureness behind his stone facade, catching onto the way his hand begins to fiddle with yours. what was he playing at?
“you’re saying you want me to cheat on you?” you ask, exasperated. where was this even coming from?
“god, fuck,” he sighs frustratedly, running both hands over his face slowly.
“i can’t give you what you need, can’t— not like how we used to,” his voice tapers off at the end like he’s scared to upset you. “shiu’s had a crush on you for years, i’d know he’d take good care of you.”
you step back from the table to gather yourself, pacing in front of the inmate like a woman gone mad. you’re grateful the constant circulation of inmates and visitors in the room is drawing attention away from you, otherwise an officer probably would have come over by now.
you couldn’t even believe what toji was offering to you. seeking out other men— his business partners—to “fill in the gaps”? when the love of your life was only a car drive away? fat fucking chance.
you stalk over to his side of the table, pointing an accusatory finger to his face.
“if you ever..” you pause, blinking away tears, “think that i’d give up on you just because we don’t have sex as often as we did then you’d be fucking crazy.”
you see him audibly flinch when your voice cracks, the weight of your emotions bringing him literal pain. toji’s eyes have gone wide, realizing the implications of his offer.
“i’m sorry baby, fuck, i’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling your face into the curve of his neck despite the harsh restrictions on touch set during visits. you silently thank the bustling crowd again for shielding the two of you, clutching at each other so deeply you think you might just meld into him.
“don’t want anybody but you,” you say with finality, pressing soft kisses to his pulse.
“i know sweetheart, i hear ya.”
you stay like that for the rest of your visit, breathing in each other’s warmth as calloused hands rubs circles into your back. neither of you say anything, not needing to when both do you knew you’d always find a way to make it work.
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taglist 🏷️ <3
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petrapalerno · 2 months
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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #5
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Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.
MASTER POST
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PREVIOUS
“Your mate?” You stutter as you pull yourself out of the water and sit down, dripping wet, on the furs near the fire. “What do you mean that I’m your mate? Isn’t the whole point of volkroth spawning season is that there are no mates. I was under the impression it was a kind of ‘free use’ scenario around here.”
He’s got to be joking, right?
Drohako sets his jaw, but his eyes soften from the blind rage of earlier. His purple irises bore into your soul as he speaks.
“I can see that you weren’t aware of every possibility here,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“No shit, sherlock,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. “What exactly did I get myself into?” Despite trying to play it cool, you’re nervous as hell about what he might say.
“It is common for my people to breed only in the spawning pits. As I’m sure the representative informed you, the volkroth only produce male offspring. We’ve needed females from other species for longer than I’ve existed. The volkroth have adapted to this way of life—but it’s not how it’s always been.” He seems to have calmed down a little as he sits down next to me. His meaty thighs folding under him as he does.
“I knew you, this unassuming, aggravating little thing, were my mate the second you took the thick knot of my cocks. That isn’t something that happens every time we rut a female, human.” His voice deepens as he talks about being buried inside you.
“Mate... The aliens on the station have those. Are you telling me we’re like...married now?” Your throat gets sticky and the word marriage feels thick, like peanut butter.
“I do not know what this marriage word means—If it means that you are mine, and then I will pump you full of my seed until your belly is swollen with my children, then yes. You may call it a marriage.” His filthy words are spoken as plain as day.
“What if I say no?” You interject, “What if I want to fuck some other big dumb alien?” The words sound whiny even to your own ears.
Drohako narrows his eyes. “You are mine, and I will kill any other male for looking at you...do not test me human or there will be consequences.” Though he whispers, it’s almost scarier than when he was yelling.
Consequences.
Is it fucked up that the word has you clenching your pussy?
“What if I can’t behave myself?” You toy with him.
Maybe if he didn’t feed into every brutal fantasy you’ve ever had, this whole mate thing would be a much harder pill to swallow. But your freshly healed pussy throbs at the thought of him taking what he wants from you, of killing another male for just looking at you.
“You will learn discipline, you will obey me, or I’ll restrain you.” A jolt of pleasure thrums up your spine, and you sit up at attention.
“Then what?” you ask, your hand finding its way down to your already slick lips. The big brute of an alien cocks his head as he watches you slide your fingers over your clit.
“I never gave you permission to come,” he says with a glint in his eye.
“Whoops, guess you should tell me how to earn that privilege, shouldn’t you?” You dip a finger into yourself.
“Stop,” he says through gritted teeth. His fists ball up at his sides as he glares at me.
“Does it make you want to punish me? Does your little human mate make you angry, Drohako?” You buck you hips, finding a rhythm.
Drohako, a male of action, doesn’t bother with his words any longer. With two of his massive strides, he bridges the distance between us in the blink of an eye.
With a single fluid motion, he tears the loincloth off his waist. Standing over you, the vee of his groin muscles lead into the swell of his cocks, already thick and drooling. He can act mad all he wants, but you know that his body is screaming for yours. Grabbing his cocks at the root, he pushes them against your mouth.
“Open up, human, prove to me you're worthy of a release.” Drohako wants you to suck his cocks? You were under the assumption that most aliens might not understand what a blow job is...but it seems the volkroth have no misunderstanding on the art of sucking dick.
He grabs your hair, wrapping it around the back of his hand, and pulls your head forward. Your lips are barely opened as the head of one of his prehensile cocks pushes past your lips. Just one of them is enough to fill your entire mouth, but as he shoves the second pulsing member in, you can’t help but gag. Slavia drips from your mouth as he fucks it. Guttural slurping noises fill the cave.
“Touch yourself,” he commands. When you do, you’re even slicker than before, clit throbbing with a pleasure that hovers near pain. Both his hands are woven in your hair, and he’s pushing himself as far into your mouth as he can go, only a little more than halfway down his girthy length.
“Do you want me to fuck you, human?” He gets out between thrusts.
“Yeshfnugpmh,” you gargle as he hits the back of your throat again.
“Do you want my seed dripping out of that swollen cunt of yours?” his breathing is getting uneven, and you feel his balls tighten against his body.
You can’t even make out the words to say yes, but god yes you want him to use you. Your mouth is stuffed too full. You can taste his sweet pre-cum on the back of your tongue, leaking like he’s about to bust. He withdraws and pushes you on you back.
“Are you wet enough for me?” he asks before sliding down your body and hovering his square stubbled jaw over your weeping mound.
“So wet for you,” you croak, your throat not recovered from the fucking he just administered to it.
You expect him to crawl back up your body, to notch his cocks into you and to fuck you until you explode. But you’re grabbing the furs you lay on as he drags his wide, rough tongue up your slit.
“What are you?” he asks, the heat of his breath that fans over your pussy is driving you insane.
“Human,” you breathe, squirming under him.
“Be still,” he commands, putting a hand on the small of your belly. “No, what are you to me?” He asks again, looking up at you with serious eyes.
“...Mate?” You say unsure. He rewards your answer with a slow and firm lick of your clit.
“Say it again,” he says as he bites your inner thigh.
You can’t help but arch up, needing more of his touch.
“Mate, I’m your mate!” you yelp as his lips close over your clit and he begins a relentless rhythm of suction and thrumming of the sensitive nub with his tongue.
“Fuck, Drohako, I’m going to cum,” you mewl under his ministrations. He pushes two of his thick fingers into you, never stopping his aggressive stimulation of your clit. The muscles of your sex clasp around his hand, begging to be fucked harder. You can feel the delicious burn of a building orgasm as it coils in your belly.
“A little further, keep going, don’t stop,” you beg him as he sucks your clit.
“Wait, you’re not allowed to come until my cocks are inside you, human,” he says as he lifts his head from your mound.
Wait? You can’t wait! You’re almost crossing the precipice, at the point of no return.
“Too close, can’t wait,” you pant bucking up against his mouth.
When he growls against your pussy in response, it’s just what you need to cross over. His mouth leaves you at the very second you do, and you can feel his cocks pushing into you as your pussy flutters and you spiral into pleasure.
Every inch of his cocks that pushes past your trembling core only heightens your pleasure into pure ecstasy. Your vision tunnels as he grabs your hips and lifts them off the ground.
Drohako grunts when you go limp in his hands. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that you’re seeing literal stars. Your senses narrow.
The only thing you can see is his sweat covered brow, his black hair sticking to his forehead, and the only sound you can process is the beat of his sac as it slaps into your ass with every vicious stroke.
His cocks coil inside of you, and you feel them knotting themselves together, pushing against your cervix.
"My mate, you're my mate, you're my ma—" Drohako jolts, and his cock shoots his hot seed into your belly. His thick shafts push deeper still, as if he wants to push his cum as far into you as he can. He is so fucking desperate for it to take root.
The locking of his knotted dicks swells, and you can feel it lock inside of you. Even though his thrusting has slowed, they still pump. Drohako collapses onto of you, his colossal body pinning you to the ground.
“Drohako,” you wince as he crushes you underneath him. “I can’t breathe!”
He groans, eyes closed, and flips you both, still locked together until you’re straddling him flat on his back. Your pussy still throbs around him as you let yourself be the one to collapse this time. The sweat of our bodies, the mixture of his cum and your slick, leaves us sticky and panting.
“I like not listening,” you mutter into his big blue chest. An enormous hand slaps your ass, and you clench at the sting. The barbarian's eyes roll back and he moans in response to the motion of your reaction.
Your clenching milks his knot and you feel his release push out of your pussy. He brings another hand down with a crack on the other cheek and you tense and tug at the tie between you again, an unavoidable response to the pain.
“I thought you didn’t want me to move when we’re knotted together?” You pant, reaching a hand back to rub your stinging ass.
“Not in the spawning pits...but here in the home cave, I want your cunt to milk me as long as it can,” he moans, as his cocks pump even harder.
“As long as I can?” you ask with an arched brow as you lean back against his knees, reclining to present him with your knotted pussy. He tucks his chin down, still glistening with your juices, to watch the show. You take his hand and put it over your swollen clit.
“Hit me here,” you command him with a devious smile.
His eyes narrow, but you get no warning before he cracks his hand against your slit.
“Fuck!” you yelp. The reaction of his hand against your already oversensitive clit sends sparks to your core. You squirm and clench so hard that he grunts and holds you tightly against his cocks, both of his hands on your hips.
Even though he’s not thrusting, it almost feels like he is as his knot expands and contracts.
“Again,” you tell him, and he obeys. Each thwack of his big palm bringing you closer to a second finish.
“You’re my mate,” you moan on the smack that pushes you over the edge. His knot spasms, and you swear you can see it bulge in your belly. It pushes against your g-spot and when you orgasm this second time, you can feel the rush of wetness as he makes your pussy squirt for him.
As the aftershocks roll through you, you’re completely boneless. You slump against his warm chest and finally rest. It might not be so bad to be someone’s mate after all.
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14thgalerie · 7 months
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tell me why
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: dangerous by madison beer
• word count: 3.3k
• genre: angst, fluff (barely)
— based on this request, i hope you like this one even though i'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind huhu. i tried to find a way to go about this prompt that isn't all cliche and was written before.
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Projects given over the holiday: written and set aside in a matter of six hours.
Every crevice and corner of his room is now spotless.
A game of quidditch with Lorenzo with his siblings.
And that’s the entire list. He has finally run out of things to do, yet the sun remains shining brightly outside. What was supposed to be an uneventful day had turned out to be quite a hectic one. An accidental glance at the desk that sits below the tall windows ruined the extraneous effort he had gone to in order to forget about a certain envelope or rather someone.
An entire day has already passed since his owl dropped by to hand him a single envelope. After taking a glance at the sender, he couldn’t bring himself to open it right at that instance.
In all honesty, he has absolutely no idea as to why he is avoiding opening it; well maybe he does know, and maybe it’s the reason for the dread that kept stirring at the pit of his stomach. The last time he heard from you was at the Hogwarts Express before you completely cut off contact with him.
It’s been an entire week now since the holiday break started, the same amount of time since he received a word from you, something that has never occurred. Your fights had never lasted for longer than necessary— a day would be the worst of it because he despises it whenever people make matters worse for themselves by ignoring one another. But despite his great hatred for it, he doesn’t feel a single thing except for the urgency and desperation that you answer him.
So, he doesn’t understand why you suddenly shut away from him when everything has been going great. One moment you were all snuggled up to him in the compartment you shared with your friends and then not a single word from you from the hundreds of letters he must’ve sent by now.
The sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts.
“Hey Theo, I left some food for you here if you’re awake. Mom also set aside some medicine if you’re not feeling well, she’s worried for you.” He hears Lorenzo at the door trying to talk to him, unsure if he is even being heard by Theo.
Silence fills the room as Lorenzo leaves, thinking that he’s still asleep. Looking at the yellow ribbon that wraps around the envelope, he reaches out and takes hold of it for the first time since he last dropped it.
Pulling the band with a sense of uneasiness, he sees that it doesn’t have anything special on it, just your name at the front and numbers at the upper left corner. Pulling out the paper— wondering if the little doodles that always accompanied your letter for him would be there, but he is left frowning at the blank edges. Flipping it open, he laughs out loud at the naivety of believing it will be any good before he is choked by the lump that formed in his throat.
Let’s break up, Theo.
I’m a coward to do this over a letter, I know. I won’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I have been constantly depressed at the thought of doing this. In the weeks leading up to when I am writing this, I have been incessantly living vicariously through the memory of us. 
I know it’s too much to ask after doing this to you, but please never talk to me again. Don’t ask. I won't be able to explain to you, not when I still don’t understand it and how I’m feeling.
Goodbye.
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You wonder if he’ll ask. You wonder if you will ever tell him. How you will explain, how you might run away instead. It’ll be an answer enough to satiate the questions that barrage through the doors of your mind without warning.
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Theo was lying in his bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to move when your body is deprived of sustenance; nor food or sleep is enough. So he lays there in the forced darkness from his drawn bed curtains, body more still and cold than a dead body 6 feet underground.
He couldn’t handle another day of hiding behind the old facade of indifference. At first, it was easy. He heeded your wish of keeping his distance even if every atom in his body begged to be near you. Saving the most painful, physical sobbing in his solitude. He was fine just seeing you be there; alive and breathing.
As the days lingered on, however, it wasn’t enough. Not when you have deprived him even of that one simple thing. Disappearing from every class you’re sharing only to find out you have requested to attend another class.
He didn’t have the energy to keep up with that charade anymore. Letting himself wither until he’s only a nutshell of the man you’ve built in the ruins of his past.
He had, in every sense but physical, become a ghost, drifting between the phases of the day without a sense of time. He relies on his day-to-day life by moving on autopilot.
He doesn’t know what he did, he begs to know because he cannot go on another day like this. 
“Theodore Nott!”
His attention is called away when he hears a booming voice beside him followed by the bright light that showers over him as the curtain of his canopy is pulled open. Not a care if the man wasting away hours behind it will be mad at her. 
Pansy only knew one thing: she would not have her best friend lose every prospect in his life because of both of your lack of communication. She couldn’t give a damn if you will ever manage to resolve your issues. For now, Theo is her priority and he needs to stand up and study.
She had already managed to fix you up enough to have you up and functioning, although a mere ghost on legs. But that will do, now for this man who is at the grunt of your problems.
“Stand up and go to the library.” She pulls the blanket which barely covers him, and throws it someplace. “You are going to fail your NEWTS at this rate.”
“Who cares?” He drawls out. Turning to his side to cower beneath his pillows.
“Your future does.” Knowing that he will never stand at his own will, she gathers every bit of strength in her to pull him by his arms.
“Gods, Pans. Can you just bugger off and leave me alone?”
He tries to wave her off and turns to slide beneath the welcoming arms of his bed. But before his face plants onto the soft, strewn fabric, he is pushed and pushed until they are greeted by the long, grimy corridor outside their common room. His bag full of books was thrown out the door after him. With his lack of energy, all he can do is follow her demand.
Hoping that this will distract him.
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Theo trudged towards the library, dragging his feet behind him. Maybe the tranquil ambiance could be a soothing balm for his aching heart. Make him finally focus on other things in his life, knowing that whatever reason you may have, you would never wish that he put his studies on hold.
Theo chose a table tucked away in a quiet corner, where he could fully immerse himself in his books and thoughts. The flickering candle lights atop the wooden tables, weathered by the countless students that passed through Hogwarts, had added a comforting touch to his isolation. Casting dancing shadows on the polished surfaces.
This worked for about an hour and a half until he realised he had forgotten his advanced Potions book in his other bag.
Surrounded by towering bookshelves, Theo began searching for a copy of the book he’s missing and some other texts that might be helpful for his NEWTS classes. As he reached a particular shelf that contained the very books he was looking for, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of a conversation, the hushed tones barely above a whisper. 
“-Theodore?”
He decided to walk away, thinking the conversation private, when his attention was caught by the mention of his name. He wasn’t able to catch the question but he was intrigued.
With a furrowed brow, he furtively strained over the tiny slot in the shelf he pulled a book from to see two familiar faces opposite him, unaware of the person with wide eyes that locked in on one person. 
As if on instinct, he dwindles at the sight of you, like a cord being pulled out of its socket, his body going back on autopilot.
He almost slapped himself in the forehead for not recognizing your voice sooner, but he wonders. Why had you appeared so sullen and gaunt? Would it have to do with him since you mentioned him? He leans back on the shelves awaiting to hear more, wondering why you were supposedly that way when you have been acting like nothing had happened between the two of you. 
“We’re not together anymore, Luna.” You say in a dejected voice. Seeing it written on paper hurt, but nothing could compare to the anguish that invaded him at hearing it from you, feeling hopeless to the constant sharp pain on his chest that wrenched deeper into the wound.
“Is that why he’s been staying by the Ford Bog recently?” Luna unassumingly asks, curious. 
“What?”
“When I come by to feed the Thestrals, he is always there talking to them.” He hears Luna explain. He hadn’t known that Luna had been coming over to see them also. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers that, like him, she had also witnessed her mother’s death.
“Oh.” You must be thinking about what he confessed to you when you found him in a similar situation back in the fourth year.
“You miss him.” From the manner that Luna says it, it was less of a speculation and more of a fact. “I do.” You confess.
This makes him confused. His brows knit together as he tries his best to piece together the words that slipped from you in a way he understands. You had been the one to break off your relationship suddenly, without a word of explanation. But now you sit there, admitting you miss him after you ask him to keep his distance. He is tempted to turn the corner and ask you.
“But you constantly run away from him?” Luna asks for him instead. She follows it up with another question. “You broke up with him, right?”
There was a pregnant pause before he heard your voice again.
“Yes, I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I was scared that he would do it sooner or later and I didn’t want to experience the pain of hearing it from him first-hand. So then, I decided that I would do the job for him.” You explain. 
He is left stumbling back at the accusation, knowing within himself that it would be the last thing he would do in a million years. Ever, actually. What spurred this idea from you? He finds it incredibly insulting that you would think he would.
Luna asks why you think he’ll do that. 
You say after a moment’s pause, “He’s been hanging out with this new friend of his before the holidays, and at first I didn’t care because I trusted him. But she just-” Your breath hitches, “She began to be more flirty and provocative with him and he didn’t even blink an eye.” 
You take in a sharp breath. “I know he would never do it, and he probably didn’t even notice but I don’t know…” 
His subconscious blocked out any of what followed after that horrid confession. Memories came in sudden assaults on his brain and senses. He doesn’t like how uncertain you sounded: he doesn’t know why you would think twice of his actions. 
Truth be told, he did indeed notice the weird affectionate manner in Scarlet’s approach to him. Frankly, he didn’t care and settled to ignore her in order to avoid conflict as she was a friend of Mattheo. Putting her in the back of his mind and that would be the end of it.
He always knew that you had this fear that he would leave you for another, this is provoked more by his terrible past with women before you. But he never thought it would be a problem for your relationship as he constantly did his best to remind you that it was either you or nothing at all. 
Though he couldn’t exactly blame you, even now as he sinks into the cold stone ground, he was stupid to think that ignoring Scarlet would suffice.
Sitting on the cold, hard floors with his head in between his hands, digits tightly clutching his hair. He doesn’t hear Luna excusing herself from your session, leaving you to clean up to prepare to leave. Stuck in the confusing labyrinth that his mind wandered off to, he didn’t notice the gentle footsteps near him, trying to avoid the librarian’s wrath.
“Theo?”
Nothing.
“Hello?”
Still not a thing from him. You become concerned.
“Theodore? Are you alright?”
You find yourself forgetting the very promise that you had even asked Theo to uphold— to never approach you. But despite your stern resolve, the sight of Theo sitting in the library corner, his distress palpable, throws it all out. Instead, the nagging fear that if you're the source of his evident turmoil.
“Theo.” You crouch down in front of him, keeping your hands nestled to your lap.
He didn’t even lift his head— you weren’t sure if he was not acknowledging you or that he simply didn’t notice you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it. Your feet are itching to run.
“I’m sorry.” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he was not in good condition. You’re confused as to why he’s being like this. 
But somewhat you knew. Your heart pounds relentlessly against your chest. You knew what he was going to say.
“What do you mean?” 
He shakes his head. Eyes plastered intently on the creaking floorboards. “Scarlet.”
When he speaks it into existence, you dislike the way you flinch, the familiar bitterness spreading throughout your body. Your heart drops into the pits of your stomach.
“I- I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes were becoming blurred by the veil of his tears, bearing a weight that seemed almost unbearable. “Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N.”
The lump in your throat threatened to suffocate you, leaving you on the brink of despair unable to respond properly. 
“It’s my fault. I never know when something upsets you. I hardly know you better than how I’m supposed to.” He says it like he means it. Theo says it to himself more than he says it to you. 
The world slows down to an adagio, and you’re caught up in the emotion that washes over you at his condition. Theo is rarely dishevelled; he’s hardly all over the place. If anything, he has always been quite proper, the opposite of the man in front of you.
You say his name softly, your gut tightening at the heart-breaking sight in front of you. Hesitating to reach out and hold him close to you. So you reach out to wipe away the lone tear that slides down his face.
“Merlin…I should be the one saying sorry.” 
“What?” He finally pulls him together enough to reply to you coherently.
“It’s not you. You’re not the problem.” Your subconscious running at a millimetre per second to come up with the right words to amend his words. Finding this a bit harder than you expected. “I am so broken that my body is just encased in this eternal itch to run.”
“When I saw how you were so unconcerned about Scarlet’s obvious attempts, I panicked. I let that fear get the best of me, letting it poison my mind. I was afraid that one day you’d begin to reciprocate her attraction. Maybe you would have been happier with her. I was terrified of losing you, and when the holidays came, I grabbed the chance to cower back and let it consume me. I didn’t wanna hear you confirm that hellish thought.”
“What changed?” He croaks out. “Why are you telling me all this now?”
“A big part of it comes from my conversations with Mum. I kind of forgot that she never really sides with me when it comes to my irrational decisions and she’s always been the one to make me realise it.” You feel the urge to laugh at the thought, but you restrain yourself. 
“And by heaven’s will, I want you to be happy but the need to be your happiness far outweighs that.”
But he does nothing but remain seated silently, nothing in him revealing that he plans to move. And you are terrified, for once you had no idea what was going on inside his head but you know that you had to let him think on his own. To stop assuming and making decisions off of it.
“You, you are a great deal of a headache to me. I have spent days questioning myself; was I so horrible that I couldn't even be granted the decency to be broken up to my face." cried Theo. 
“No you weren’t, Theo. I promise you.”
“I know I’m not. Yet, you still made me feel like it. I was happy with you, you were my lone happiness. I think it’ll be awhile before I forget this, despite what you confess.” He says, his voice choking up now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady.
“Is that true, Theo?”
“But as upset and tired I am, I still love you.” He acquiesced. “It’s laughingly pathetic how I am still entirely yours.”
He stopped short, his hands that rested on his lap emerging to take yours in its grasp. Their grip is a perfect balance of a strong hold and a gentleness.
“And I love you too, I don’t think I ever stopped. I promise you that I’ll work on myself, make things right between us again, because I don’t think I can go on for another day like this.” You said, sworn with a conviction so strong.
He shook his head and to that you feel the disgusting worm that whispers to you appear, “No. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” But it’s crushed under his pretty foot.
“I promised you then that I wouldn’t leave you to face whatever problems you have on your own. When I confessed to you ’I love you’, it meant that I would continuously be by your side to help you with your troubles. Our troubles.” He reminds you. “We’ll fix this together from now on…nobody is doing things solo.”
He tugs on your arms, telling you wordlessly to sit beside him. When you do, by habit and longing, your head moves to rest on the juncture of his neck inhaling the scent you missed most.
Nothing felt better than to have the urge to have your head resting on him be satisfied, he wanted nothing more than to feel something as mundane as this.
As he leaned his head on her temple, you felt giddy, feeling yourself turn tomato red at the action. It was a happy time, in spite of the things that remained to be talked about, so happy that you couldn’t dare to disturb it with anything.
“Y/N…” He breaks the silence.
You hum. 
“Did you ever dream about me?” 
“I thought about you.”
Only a soft squeeze to your hand serves as a reply.
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masterlist
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
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Monster Trio Having “Flashbacks” (NSFW)
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@roronoaswifey taught me something 😁
Black Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Mentions of Sex the night before
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Luffy (While Eating)
“Thanks for the food!”
“Yeah. Yeah. This is like the 4th plate.”
Sanji waved off to his bottomless pit he calls a captain to eat. Luffy indulges himself once again to a meal of delicious juicy meat.
The sweet and savory mix of the marinade Sanji cooked to the tender beef coated his tongue with each bite, Luffy hums at the table eating to himself.
However, he takes one big bite and some of the meat squirted out on the table and onto his fingers.
Without thought he sucked on his thumb,
and that’s when it happened.
“Lu—!” Your breathless moan echoing in his mind, your thighs trembling over his sweaty broad shoulders now lowering to the sides of his hips as Luffy sits up on his knees to get a good look at you.
“You came a lot.” Luffy spoke seeing your sloppy, wet slit, covered in his spit and remnants of his cum, “But m’not done eating you up, Y/n.”
He gigglies lowly, his right hand rubbing up and down your shaky hip and thighs. He wasn’t wrong, already being fucked dumb by his cock and without letting you breathe he goes back down on you to “clean you up” which was always Luffy’s favorite part of having sex with you.
“Lu…more…”
“Hm?” He plays dumb, leaning into your face, the tip of his cold fingers tapping on your sensitive clit from below making you hiss, “Whatcha say?”
“More..please, papi…please..”
Dammit you knew the magic word (or name in this case) and it fucked your captain up a little. Whenever he hears the purrs of his nickname only you give him it gets his mind so fuzzy.
Right before he goes back down to finish the job he sticks his thumb inside your slit, wiggling it a little, cock twitching at how slimmy and wet you were, squirting just a little more on his wrist.
“Damn..” He looks at his hand, right before he takes a long lick from his wrist to his thumb, popping noises is the last thing you hear paired with a satisfied chuckle before he—
“Lu!” You snapped at his big doe eyes, He finally blinks and chokes a little at the remnant of food he has in his cheeks, you laugh a little. “You okay? You just was in some other planet just now mid bite.”
Not knowing what to say, he stares at you. Face unreadable to you which makes you stare at him back.
Your beautiful innocent smile that was once quivering lips of his name last night. He wasn’t sure why he had such a random memory of something you both do so often, but now wasn’t time to think, because once he took his last bite he took YOU back to recreate the mess he made of you yesterday.
Sanji
You are such a special woman to him. So special that he even wanted to keep you beside him as he cooked.
“Whatcha makin’ today, pretty boy.”
Sanji smiles, stirring the boiling pot of soup as you sat on the counter beside him, pink dusted his cheeks hearing your nickname for him.
“Just lunch, sweetheart. Wanna try some? See how you like it.”
“I always love your cooking, Ji….but yes I do.”
You share a giggle as he places the wooden spoon to your lips, his other hand cupping below it you slurp the delicious meal he made, slightly rolling your eyes back at how amazing it all melted in your mouth.
However, some of the soup dripped down your lip and to your clevage causing Sanji to quickly grab a paper towel and wipe it for you, leaving you a little warm in the face for when he wiped your breast so cautiously, moving up and down your chest seeing it wiggle with each movement he did.
And he noticed to, “Oh…sorry…”
“Don’t be. You can do whatever you want I won’t get mad.”
You peck his cheek before leaving the kitchen to use the bathroom and left him with his thoughts.
his eyes going back to the pot but his mind now to earlier this morning.
“F-fuck!”
This was such a sight for sore eyes, your pretty supple tits wrapped around his cock, tongue laid flat out to swirl around his blushing tip each time he thrusted upwards.
“Y/n…Y/n!”
His voice is a broken record to your name, repeating it, being so needy for more of your touch, his hair was a wavy sweaty mess, hip thrust, head falling back. He couldn’t believe he never asked to be waken up like this sooner.
“Cu—cumming again ah fuck im cumming again! Fuck fuck fuck!”
“Cum for me, Ji.” Your words are just broken moans somehow getting just as much pleasure as your pervy cook just from watching him glide his cock between your tits.
He does so, leaving your neck down coated in his sticky cum, you couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of it dripping down your skin before Sanji grabbed your throat to kiss you. He moans so slutty, it vibrates on your tongue, he nearly swallows it whole once he shoves his inside your mouth.
“S-sorry…lemme…repay you really quick…” His lips tremble against yours with a slight grin.
“Do whatever you want to me, Prince…I’m all yours.”
You in an instant felt Sanji pull you up to lay you back on the bed, his head leaving open mouthed kisses all over before he reaches the special spot right between your legs,
“Oh!…Sanji!…San…Ji!”
“SANJI!” You snapped at him. He blinks repeatedly and almost notice his soup burning he panics to move the pot. “You okay baby?”
He turns to you, eyes immediately looking at your chest again, how supple they look, and how even prettier they were when—
“Y/n, my love….can we go to your room really quick?”
Zoro
“1,579…1,580…”
Zoro spent his afternoon like he usually does training. You however wanted to ask him if he wanted to have lunch so when doing so you interrupted him.
“In a minute, woman….I’m almost done.”
“You always do 2,000 pushups cant you cut it today?”
“No! I have to get stronger.”
“Ugh. Fine. You’re so mean when you ignore me.”
“I’m not—-whatever.”
You stick your tongue out at him before leaving to eat. Zoro grunts a little more and finishes his set when he gets reminded of yesterday’s training with you.
“Z-zoro! T-too too much!”
If there was one thing Zoro loves more than Sake and his swords, was your face when under him.
“C’mon…gimme 2 more.”
Your ankles on his shoulders, back on the cold wooden floor of the Crows Nest you try your best to contain your breast but no longer were you able to do that when Zoro presses himself further into you.
“TOO MUCH!”
Your cries were on deaf ears, he was already fucking you into over stimulation. Just cumming twice and he didn’t even give you a moment to ride out the high just for you to get closer to a newer and harder orgasm than before as Zoro forced you to take all he had to give you.
Your mind couldn’t even begin to figure out whether to ask him to stop or keep going, but your body was starting to speak for you.
“Got damn girl—fuck! Locking me in huh—ah fuck!”
You wrapped your ankles around him, your arms above your head, now given up to the erratic hip snaps that Zoro was giving you.
“Ganna cum? hm? “
His fucking heavy breathing and his slurred voice in your ear made you clench down harder, hand right on his undercut about to claw it, if he kept talking to you. He knew exactly how to get you riled up by his voice.
“You’re so…mean fuckkkkk…” You whined leaning against his sweaty face as he was buried in your neck he down a low chuckle and picks up to pace. He doesn’t need you talking right now he needed you to be too dumb fucked to do so.
“C’mon. Cum for me. Do it c’mon baby..cum on this cock for me please.”
His palm moves to your lower belly pressing down of the vague bulge of your belly, and your eyes nearly pop put of your socket body shaking against his as you just couldn’t stop convulsing, crying his name in his ear up until—
“AH FUCK!”
Zoro falls face first on the floor, not realizing he space out holding a plank for way too long. He looks up from the floor and huffs.
“That damn woman…shit.”
At lunch you couldn’t figure out why Zoro’s hand kept caressing your thigh as you all ate. He wasn’t really into PDA like that so it startled you a bit.
Eventually though.
He fessed up and it led to another training session.
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therandomartmaker · 2 months
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DPxDC, of dead hearts and brothers.
danny is damian’s older brother au; reincarnation type. danyal is the soft-hearted but still exemplary heir, but convinces ra’s that it is better to have him be the right-hand to damian, losing his heirship. ra’s, having danny as his favourite (cough danny and his inability to not be involved with old creeps lmao) allows him this; thinking that it’d allow danyal to be protected and also give him another option for youth (taking over damian’s body, afo-shigaraki style /hj)
this is all fine and dandy until ra’s decides damian has reached an equal skill to danyal’s stagnant training, and sets up a fight to the death. the lazarus pits are always there for the al ghul family, after all. he expects danyal to win. he expects damian to learn that all of his children are disposable. precious, but tools for ra’s’ use (all except precious danyal, the heart that kept giving).
danyal dies, damian’s sword stabbed into his heart, his last advice to “drive it in harder.” and his last words, “congratulations, brother.”
they bring him to lazarus pit, but it takes him. he sinks into the pool of acrid green and they wait; hours. a day. a week. he doesn’t resurface. they continue waiting because what else are they to do? they are al ghuls, not danal. not precious danyal who could mourn.
this proceeds, a sigil at the pit’s edge once a month, waiting for the lost son to return; but eventually damian is brought before the bat (far less dramatic, ra’s was tired of damian’s growing frustration without danyal to soothe him but no assassin’s had the same emotional state as danyal to provide a pseudo-sibling to play the same role; thus the bats’ family was the next option)
the bats only find out abt danyal when damian sets up for a day of fasting, facing the direction of the pit.
it’s dick who asks why he is fasting, and damian explains calmly. They learn of the boy who knew kindness, of the al ghul’s heart, of the prodigal heir turned advisor to damian. they learn of damian’s brother. when they find out why he’s dead, horror drips down their spines, at damian being forced to kill someone who’d only done good for him.
damian has one thing to say; “Danyal’s advice was not ‘how to kill’. i killed far better than he, after all. i was efficient, but danyal worked cleaner. Danyal’s advice… was ‘to kill your heart.’”
time moves on; damian is adjusted to ‘outside life’ far easier, danyal taught him how to interact with others and understand that words are rarely literal. the lazarus pits are quiet, madness unlikely in those brought from it, and jason affected far less in the long term. until one day there is a knock at the manor door.
alfred opens it, to see a dark haired young adult, assassins’ garb, injured. he does not seem conscious. alfred brings him in; calling the rest to reach a decision on how to treat him, and what his intentions are.
Damian wakes up to the sight of his brother in the moment that damian killed him.
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adventuringblind · 3 months
Text
Deserving
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort
Summary: while she falls into the pit of her mind, Charles is there to pull her out.
Warnings: mentioned self-harm, anxiety, toxic media, mentions of addiction
Notes: A Nonny request, I hope you like it!! This one is definitely an insight into how my brain works.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Everyone says rookie years are the hardest. Which, she won't say everyone is wrong, just that she also had consistently bad years. They blend into each other now. A never-ending cycle of the same lame excuses as to why she's so downcast.
She's a rookie driver and having a pretty decent season. Logan and Oscar are two of her closest friends. She's dating Charles Leclerc of all people.
So why is that piece of her brain still nagging at her? Years of therapy and help hasn't done the trick. The stinging still pushes through to the front of her mind.
The habit started so young. It was a distraction from the pain of whatever she'd been going through at the time. A means to satisfy her the voices in her head. Now it's to remind her she's still alive. That the media hasn't shattered her already frail will to live quite yet.
Everything in her wants to just... stop. Everyday she's reminded that her place is somewhere else. Not in the car, not with Charles, not even on the planet.
It doesn't matter that she's having a good year, that the car is good, or that she has people who love her. The voices always come back in those dark hours when she's alone.
She staggered herself in the beginning. Enough that her physio wasn't catching on. She lived in Charles' hoodies, and he thought nothing of it. Just another source of comfort.
He'd seen the faded scars, asked her about it every occasionally. He never pushes her to talk about it.
She doesn't deserve Charles, or anyone for that matter. Mentors, family, friends, they are all to wonderful for her to drag them down into her misery. The constant pity party she throws herself has no guests, only her and her demons.
Redbull isn't the best environment for someone as fragile as her. Despite the boosts of confidence Christian gives her daily and the constant reassurance from Max, she doesn't feel like she deserves it. The media is eating her alive. The next teammate to be crucified to Redbull and Mad Max.
It's starting to become noticeable again. The lack of sleep and covering clothes. Charles is skeptical and keeps reassuring her she can talk to him.
If she does that, he'll leave. Her mind can't take being alone yet.
Max is the first to catch sight of the new lines adorning her wrist. He asks if she's alright, but again, nobody pushes for more. Maybe if they did, she would break. Her fragile walls would come tumbling down.
Oscar is the next to push. A good friend of hers and they've both had good seasons. He and Logan show up one night with comfort food and cards. It manages to make her smile like when they were younger.
But they have to leave eventually. The voices swallow her whole the second she's alone again.
Charles finally pushes for answers. He finds her alone, body slumped along the hotel bathroom wall. She's exhausted, but manages to give a crooked, tired smile.
He crouches down in front of her and looks at the fresh line on her thighs. Bandages are something she has readily available, and Charles knows exactly where to find them.
He works quietly, just humming softly as he patches her up. It's a classical song that he listens enough that she knows the tune but not the name.
Charles dresses her into comfy clothes and tucks her into bed. A hand plays with her hair and strokes her cheek.
She doesn't deserve him.
"Tell me what's eating away at you, chéri. Please, I hate that you won't talk to me."
She scoots her body closer to Charles so she doesn't have to see his face. "Just hard - I guess."
"It's okay to have hard days. It's okay that you feel the way you do. But this thing, hurting yourself, is not the way to make it better."
"I know that, Charlie!" Her voice cracks at saying his name. "I just can't help it."
Those fragile walls she has come tumbling down. The pit of despair finally swallows her, and she can't stop the tears.
It hurts. Her head, her heart, her bones, it all hurts. She falls and shatters, but Charles is here to put the pieces back together.
"I don't deserve you. You're everything people love, and I don't want to drag you down with me."
"Who put that idea in your head?"
"The voices," She sniffles. Her words muffled when Charles pulls her into his chest.
"Well, the voices are incorrect. I, of all people, know what it's like for the media to pick you a part. Whether it's appearances, my driving, my relationships, they will always find something." Charles pulls her back just a bit, enough for him to make eye contact. She hates how his eyes are as glassy as hers. "You don't have to suffer all alone, in silence. You have people around you that understand and want to help. None of us are asking for perfection. We - I - don't want to see you hurting so much."
"What if it's too much?"
"Then we figure it out together."
She falls asleep in Charles' arms. Tears soak into everything, but he doesn't tell her to move. He comforts, because Charles loves her.
She has people who want to be there for her. Yes, slips happen, healing is never straightforward, but she can try. She can lean on Charles, let him love her; let him be the steady rock she needs in her life.
"Progress chéri, not perfection."
"You sound like all team principles."
"And? It's a good saying!"
Charles pulls a laugh out of her. A genuine laugh at something that isn't even funny. She blames her love for him.
"Maybe I do deserve you."
"If this is an insult, I'm taking all the covers tonight."
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skelliko · 7 months
Text
★- Tokyo revengers
- reacting to you distancing yourself due to mental health without a warning
๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji
 ♡--- I didn't mean to make kazutora's longer than the others but oh well 🏃🏻‍♀️ doesn't help that he's a little 'toxic' too but it's okay we love kazutora
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°- kazutora hanemiya
• boy needs to hear from you all the time (not every minute or hour but just enough to know you still love him) so being distant for a small break from reality is hardly a good option
•though if he ignores your messages it's okay, but if it's the other way then it's a big no no for him
• however if you do manage to not respond to his messages the whole day he'd go through waves of emotions and overthink everything
• he doesn't want to admit it nor will he ever but kazutora is very emotional
• he wouldn't spam your messages since he doesn't want to be perceived as needy or too clingy but he does try to send a few messages and wait it out to see how long you'd respond, in which you didn't
• he saw you active on other social media platforms which hurt him even more
• he'd call you once before dropping it and start to play back recent encounters and conversations to see where either he or you went wrong but couldn't find anything that he'd find wrong about himself so he'd blame you even though he couldn't find any bad reason about you either
• he would do the same to you as karma, however instead of a day it'd be two days
• 'if you go low, I go lower'
• he'd ignore you in any possible way and despite his clinginess he's actually pretty good at the silent treatment,
• in public he'd walk past you without a glance and had your messages and calls on mute but he would still check his socials to see if you did message, he Just wouldn't open them
• once he finally stopped ignoring you he pressed on your contacts to see what you had to say and it took him a good minute for your reason to click in causing his heart to drop, it full on sank to the pits of earth
• reading your message about your mental health and how you needed time for yourself for a little while made him feel a little selfish for feeling better about why you were isolating yourself from him (you isolated yourself from everyone not just him tho)
• however he then soon grew a little mad for not giving him a heads up, he could have understood and even try to help you in any way he would let himself to
• he'd unintentionally make you feel guilty, if anything it'd almost seem like he was trying to make you feel guilty for it but his questions were honest
• "why didn't you tell me you were in a mad mood instead of ignoring me? I could have helped you, you made me think I did something bad" / "did you not trust me enough?"
• for all this to be sorted out of course you guys met up and talked it out, you gave him your reasonings and in the end all was forgiven (not entirely on kazutora's part but you didn't know)
• "don't do that again, tell me how you feel, tell me your thoughts and I'll listen, don't shut me out like that again"
• at the end of it all he finally accepted it and showed his clinginess and would cling to you till he left, holding you close to him by linking arms or him having an arm around your shoulders and he wouldn't let go at all
• he'd tell you things that he wanted to say for the past 3 days of you both being apart
• deep down he slowly took your situation into heart and felt bad for ignoring you for two days and pleaded for your forgiveness
°- chifuyu matsuno
• he'd notice immediately if something was off even if it's on text
• he knows you're ignoring him since he also sees you being active on other socials but he doesn't know why and that's what's annoying him,
• he may or may not have (definitely has) flicked through his romance manga to try and understand you even without a clear direction
• he'd give you space but would occasionally message and even try and call you but made sure not to spam you
• "hey are you okay?" "do you wanna talk?" "if you need some space I'll give you some but please let me know if your okay or if I did something bad"
• poor boy would be stressing and try to ignore the small situation by riding his motorbike or hanging out with his friends but you'd be out of his mind and then back in after just 5 minutes,
• he debated on going to your door and see you in person but wasn't sure if that was the way to go, he told his friends about the little situation and they were all suggesting different things and half of them weren't even good advice so he didn't do anything
• despite the ignoring and isolation on your part he still sent a 'good night <3' text in hopes of maybe then you'd reply
• it took longer for him to fall asleep than usual
• in the morning he woke up and the first thing he had on his mind was you, immediately checking his phone for your notification
• the second he checked his phone and saw your notifications he hesitated slightly in opening them, his heart was beating rapidly and he was nervous as to see what you'd say, hoping that you weren't mad at him
• though when he saw your reasoning and your apology for ignoring him he understood very well but he also mentally kicked himself for not going to you in person because maybe he could have helped
• he'd make sure and ask if you're okay and would even come to you in person even if he did wake up not that long ago
• he'd listen to your words carefully and keep you close to him, his warmth was definitely something you missed in your short isolation. even if it were for a day and even if you both wouldn't have met up, his warmth was certainly needed and appreciated in this moment.
• he'd ask you what you did in your time out of curiosity and if you're feeling better than before, and if not then he'd make sure to make you feel better by staying close to you and keeping you company
°- Baji Keisuke
• it would take half of the day to notice your quietness before he got concerned by it
• he'd send you a message and brush it off if you haven't seen it immediately or even after an hour thinking you're still asleep or busy but as the time went on by and more of his messages got unanswered he worried
• he'd be out with his gang and check his phone almost every minute for you, which certainly wouldn't go unnoticed by his friends
• he'd think that he did something wrong for you to ignore him and he'd be deep in thought whilst scrolling through your past messages and photos trying to remember any missing detail that he missed that could have caused this
• once his friends pointed that out to him Baji got up and left "I have to go"
• if he wouldn't have left then he might have punched a random person in the face to let loose a little from the nervous thoughts in his mind
• he would without a warning show up by your door and the first thing he'll say is "why are you ignoring me?"
• he wouldn't say it harshly but a bit more casually and curiously, though he was a bit hurt by it as well and tried to hide that
• you had your quietness for half of the day
• though after a longer look at your current state and expression you didn't even need to say anything for him to understand and he took you into a hug that you accepted very quickly
• "you shouldn't have to hide away like this"
• Baji would make you tell him what happened and how you feel while keeping you close to him and running his fingers through your hair
• he'd be understanding of it but would make sure that you could always go to him
• "promise me you won't ignore me like that again" he'd lowly and softly say
• he'd stay with you for the rest of the day in each others arms
☆ ----
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irisintheafterglow · 4 months
Text
smoke his ass! (pro racer!gojo x you)
cw/tags: a lot of swearing lol, established relationship, banter and dialogue driven
note: didn't think this would get too long, but i liked writing this a lot! hope you enjoy :)
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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"that fucker in the ford is going to get smited if he doesn't stop being the ass-est human to ever exist."
"is it smited or smote? smot?" your pit lead shoots you a smirk, absolutely certain of who the 'fucker in the ford' was that was making your driver so infuriated. "i'm not sure smited is a word," suguru whispers through your mic.
"you're gonna be next, suguru geto. burnt to a crisp that would make hell jealous."
"geez, satoru," you mutter, praying that a convenient line of static or the sound of the wheels revving distorted his threats on any live feeds of his pov. "what's got you so worked up?"
"he needs to take me to dinner first before he rides my ass!" the last three words of his declaration blare in your headphones and you wince, already aware of the hearing loss you must experience from being around deafening engines all the time. the engine temperature spikes as satoru flicks the lever up a gear and makes a narrow pass around the second-place porsche. with the ford and the porsche eating his dust, he was able to regain some momentum with such an unexpected maneuver. he's quick to rein in the flare in his temper, though, and he can already predict your protests to pushing the car at an unnecessary time. "i know, i know. that pass was untimely, but i'm mad as hell right now."
"you're about to be madder," you say with no ounce of remorse and automatically tune out the groan of frustration crackling through the line. "i'm pitting you for new wheels and i wanna check your windscreen. that mcclaren crash during lap four probably threw some bad debris your way." his silence speaks volumes, his irritation obvious. yes, the stop may force satoru to work harder on his way back to the podium, but it was necessary to keep him safe for the remainder of the race. his car swerves unceremoniously into the pit lane and suguru's crew make quick work of replacing the tires. you meet his eyes through the window and find them seething, his gloves holding the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. before you could blink, he was zooming away again, adamant on showing the ford driver what the honored one is truly capable of. "you with me, satoru?"
"loud and clear. can i get a 'who's who' on that ford?"
"magic word?"
"i'm in shambles for you," he replies without missing a beat.
"look, you're climbing back to second and he's in fourth, satoru. he doesn't matter-"
"he plays dirty, so he does matter if he keeps trying to flip me into fucking oblivion," he counters and you sigh, defeated. you double-check the roster and see a name you weren't familiar with, someone who must have flown under the radar from the lower circuits.
"fushiguro. fushiguro toji." you watch the ferrari icon next to satoru's name steadily climb the leaderboard as he returns to his spot in third, with the porsche in front of him and the ford on his tail.
"new?"
"to these races, yeah, but it seems that he's dealt with drivers like you before."
"what do you mean, 'drivers like me?'"
"i mean that we've found a more reckless driver than you." the ford cuts a hard left to come parallel with the driver's side, barely missing one of satoru's back wheel wells. "case in point."
"then i think it's time he learned his place," satoru snarls. within seconds, he throws the car into a higher gear and swings wide on the following right turn, accelerating at the peak of his centripetal force and slamming on the gas at the straightaway. "how's that for reckless driving, asshole?"
"take a breath, hotshot," you chuckle and hear him click his tongue in defiance. you're slightly in awe of his move, but you weren't going to tell him that over comms. "you've still got a few more laps to go and you can easily burn out if you're not careful," you remind him but feel in your bones that he's found his way back into his groove, his own little pocket of racing that was created when it was only you on the line, him on the track, and a podium finish in sight.
"stay on the line?"
"i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart." you can hear him smile at the rare slip of affection, something you're very cautious about when you were both in professional settings. while your relationship with satoru was no secret, you tried to keep public reminders to a minimum to avoid overshadowing his racing career. you knew which story the press would choose first between his love life and his titles. "just get back faster."
"i'm trying, but this mercedes is giving me a rough time." you fight the urge to laugh, having seen this sequence play out numerous times in the past. towards the end of races where something threw him off, he tended to lose morale during the last few laps. however, since you became his lead engineer, you've developed the uncanny skill of saying the three magic words to fire him up again.
"you're in a ferrari, gojo satoru," you say. "smoke his ass." like clockwork, the words register in his mind and he finds a new sense of determination, rocketing past the mercedes and over the checkered line for another first-place finish on his shelf. "there you go, there's my speed demon boyfriend," you murmur in his ear when he tugs off his helmet and gloves and holds you close.
"sorry for getting pissy about the ford," he says quietly so that only you can hear it. "i hope i didn't hurt your ears too badly."
"they're still ringing," you joke, "but i'll be fine as long as you aren't arrested for assault on fushiguro toji." a dangerous glint catches in satoru's bright blue eyes, one that makes the corner of your mouth turn down in a scolding frown.
"i'm not doing anything," he sings innocently while you make your way up the stairs to the winners' stage. "not yet, at least. and, for the record, i'm elated that he didn't make podium." before he leaves, he's quick to give you a peck on the cheek that makes your face heat. "and, i love you a lot. i'm gonna go get our trophy now, so wait here."
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merrybloomwrites · 4 months
Text
I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 1)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N attends her first Harry Styles concert and catches the unwanted attention of a knothead alpha. Luckily Harry and his team are able get to you in time, leading to some confusing thoughts about the popstar.
Previous Chapters: Prologue
CW: Attempted assault (nothing too graphic but it is there)
Word Count: 4.7k
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“What do you mean you can’t go?” You ask incredulously. Going to the concert wasn’t even your idea. It was your friend Rachel’s and now she’s ditching you.
There’s a pause on the other end of the call before Rachel says, “It’s my dog. Well, my family dog that we’ve had since I was in middle school. She’s not doing well, and they think she only has a couple days left so now I have to drive back to Delaware to see her and say goodbye.”
“Oh my god, Rach, I’m so sorry!” And now you feel like a jerk for being mad at her canceling.
“Thanks. We knew it was coming but I hoped we had a few more weeks. Uhm, anyway, I need to finish packing and get on the road.”
“Of course, yea, safe trip home,” you quickly reply.
“You better take some videos of the concert and send them to me. Especially if he does something different for night one at MSG!”  
“Rachel, I’m not gonna have any idea if he’s doing stuff different from his last shows, as I have no idea what his shows are like. But I promise to send you a couple videos, okay?”
“Still can’t believe you haven’t watched any videos from tour. What rock do you live under again?” You laugh at her teasing, mostly cause it’s true. The fact that you’ve made it this far without knowing much about Harry Styles surprises even you. “Have fun for both of us tonight,” Rachel says.
“I will, give your dog a belly rub from me. Love you!”
“Love you too, bye!”
The call ends and you sit for a moment. You don’t really want to go to a concert alone, but that’s what your night now has in store. Rachel had tried calling some other people in your friend group, but they were all busy. You’d also texted your two best friends, Amelia and Violet, but it was too last minute for them to change plans and go with you.
So, alone it is.
You look at the outfit you had planned but decide against it. The leather pants and crop top ensemble isn’t exactly in your comfort zone, but Rachel chose it and wanted the two of you to match. Now that you’re on your own you switch to a pair of jean shorts with tights underneath and a flowy top, something you’re much more comfortable with. Harry’s music plays in the background while you get ready. You’d been studying the setlist to make sure you would know at least some of the songs he’ll perform. You’re happy when you find yourself singing along, showing that listening on repeat had worked.
After getting dressed you do your hair and makeup, then drive to your local train station. Living in north Jersey has its perks, and the quick train ride directly to Madison Square Garden might just be the biggest.
You get off the train and follow the trail of feathers from the boas which leads you directly to the venue. You show your ticket and are led to the entrance for the pit.
Being in the pit had also been Rachel’s idea. You’d never done that before, and you would have preferred somewhere with a seat, and honestly a better view from a higher vantage point. But you’d agreed to pit and in the weeks leading to the show you’d actually become excited to experience something new.
But now that you’re alone, you’re a bit overwhelmed. You’re one of the last people to arrive, since it’s only half an hour before the opener is set to start, so you end up hanging in the back. But even then, the large amount of people around you has you on edge.
Being a single female is hard. Guys are always hitting on women, feeling entitled to your company, not taking no for an answer. But being a single female omega is even harder. The way you see it betas have it easy, especially since they’re the majority. And alphas? Well, what do they have to worry about? They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they have their alpha voices that can command you and take away your free will if they want. Plus, they have an unmatched sense of superiority, thinking they’re so special just because of their secondary gender.
But you’re an omega. Often considered to be the weakest gender. Which is stupid. You’re the gender that gives birth, which takes way more strength than alphas could ever possess. And yet you’re still looked down upon by plenty of people in society.
So, you choose to hide your secondary gender. Only your family members plus Ameila and Violet know the truth. You don’t need anyone judging you based on one little trait.
Going out in public, especially at places as crowded as MSG always gives you anxiety. You never know if a knothead alpha is going to be there and literally sniff you out as an omega. But you trust your suppressants and soothers and, most importantly, your scent blockers, to do their jobs and hide your omega status from the strangers around you.
The pills have never failed in you in the eight years since you started taking them. You have no reason to doubt them now.
And yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the attention a certain man in the crowd is giving you. He is undoubtedly an alpha, one that for sure does not use scent blockers. In fact, you’re almost convinced he’s doing something to broadcast his scent, somehow make it even stronger. It’s an unpleasant odor, one that practically burns your nose, but you pretend you can’t smell it. Afterall, a beta wouldn’t be able to notice the scent.
But as much as you try to ignore the scent, going so far as to move to the entire other side of the pit, it still lingers. Because you are most definitely being followed. Seemingly casual glances at the crowd around you shows that the man has moved with you.
Going closer to the stage is the last thing you want to do, but getting deeper in the crowd might be what you need to shake off the man. The girls around you gladly welcome you and make space for you to join. A moment later the opening act starts to play, and you no longer smell the alpha. You’re relieved and get into the music for a few minutes.
Then the girls around you start to move, and you hear them say something about the bathroom. You decide to go with them since you could use a bathroom break and there will be safety in numbers. You keep your head down and casually follow, in hopes that the man won’t see you leaving the crowd.
Only once in the bathroom do you lift your head up. There’s a small line since most people are out listening to the first band. A moment later it’s your turn and you enter the stall. After using the restroom, you notice a large rip in your tights. You look at them, hoping they can be considered fashionably torn, but then you see another hole and decide to give up on them altogether.
It takes you a couple minutes to get rid of them, needing basically to fully undress from the waist down to get them off. Finally, you’re put together again, and you exit the stall, throw out the destroyed tights, and wash your hands. You notice that the group you came with is gone. In fact, the entire bathroom is now empty.
You sigh, disappointed that you’re on your own again, but you suck it up and start making your way back to the pit.
The second you walk out the bathroom door you smell it. Him. That acrid, somehow fishy, definitely revolting scent that alerts you that the alpha is nearby.
Before you even see him you hear him say, “Be quiet, and follow me.”
Shit. That’s an alpha command. You’re aware of that fact, but unable to fight it. You want to run, go back to the crowd, but you have no choice but to follow this man deeper into the back hallways. You want to scream, but every time you open your mouth, no sound comes out.
He leads you to a deserted corner, pushing you so your back is against a wall, and says, “Now stay quiet, and don’t move.”
Again, you do as he says, not only because of the command that you have to follow, but also due to the fear paralyzing you to the spot and rendering you silent.
“What a good little omega,” he says as he walks closer. He leans towards your neck, breath ghosting over your mating spot, and a loud whimper escapes you.
Realizing that you don’t need words to call for help, you begin to let out whines and whimpers as well as release distressed pheromones. Sure, you have scent blockers, but they’re not perfect and fear this strong will surely overpower them. You hope it’s enough to alert any other alphas nearby that there is an omega in danger.
You see the anger cross the man’s face, note the furious pheromones he’s releasing, but before he even reacts, your world goes dark.
***
Harry’s stylist is putting the finishing touches on his hair when there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Harry says.
The door opens and he sees his band standing just outside the room.
“Blood Orange is about to start,” his drummer, Sarah, says. “You coming to watch with us?”
“Yea, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.”
As soon as he’s left alone, Harry takes some calming breaths. Night one of fifteen consecutive sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. He can’t believe how far he’s come in his career. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself that he’s worked hard for this, that he’s completely ready.
After spraying one more dose of scent blockers, he walks out of his room and goes through the hallways to find his band. They’re at the end of one hall, standing at the opening they’ll use later to walk to the stage. Harry joins them, making sure they’re all back far enough that they are still hidden from the fans.
Harry mingles with his band while they wait for the opener to start their set. But after a minute, Harry starts to get an uneasy feeling. He himself isn’t nervous or scared, so he really doesn’t understand where this sudden anxiety is coming from.
Harry looks around and sees a worried look on Sarah’s face. Aside from Harry himself, Sarah is the only other Alpha in the band. So the fact that they both have a sudden bad feeling while the betas around them seem unbothered has Harry on edge.
He begins to look for any type of potential threat. Right away he notices that the two Alpha security guards are scanning the area as well, hinting that they’ve picked up on the same thing. One of them walks away to start looking for anything that could be going wrong.
Blood Orange takes the stage, and that anxious feeling seems to go away. Harry checks with Sarah and she’s feeling better too, so they assume whatever was wrong has been taken care of.
Everyone enjoys the first few songs, and suddenly, the feeling comes back, way stronger than before. Harry’s alpha is immediately alert. He starts moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He hears footsteps and sees Sarah and a security guard following close behind.
None of them know exactly where the trouble is, they just follow their instincts through the backstage hallways. Suddenly, the feeling of overwhelming terror hits them, and they can faintly hear whimpers coming from a distressed omega.
They start to run in the direction the sounds are coming from. Rounding a corner, they come across a scene that has their blood boiling.
There’s a female omega, seemingly unconscious, being physically held up against a wall by a male alpha.
“Let her go,” Harry growls out using his alpha voice. It’s less effective on the man than it would be on an omega, but his grip on the girl involuntarily loosens. Harry and the security guard move in to pull the alpha off, and Sarah runs forward to catch the girl.
More security guards move in and drag the alpha away to be questioned.
Harry’s focus shifts to the omega now being held in Sarah’s lap on the floor. Adrenaline is still coursing through Harry’s body, but he feels himself relaxing faster than he thought possible. That’s when he realizes Sarah is releasing calming pheromones. He immediately works to do the same, rather than continue to broadcast the anger he’s feeling.
He knows his emotions can affect the vulnerable omega, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her most stress.
His most pressing worry is that she’s dropped. It wouldn’t be all that surprising. Omegas tend to drop during stressful situations. This can be dangerous for a number of reasons, especially if they don’t have a trusted alpha to keep them safe while they’re under.
Not only can they not protect their bodies, but a drop can also be a scary experience mentally. Omegas have described it as feeling untethered, like they’re stuck in darkness, unable to find a way out. There are good drops as well, ones you go into on purpose to give your mind rest. This is always done when there is an alpha there to hold and scent them and keep them safe and grounded throughout.
But if this is a drop, Harry knows it would be a bad one, and they’d need to gently bring her up immediately.
“Sarah?” Harry says to get the other alpha’s attention.
“Yes?” she replies, not taking her eyes off the girl.
“Do you think she’s dropped?”
“No. At least not fully. I can still catch a bit of her scent. If she went fully under it would have disappeared completely.”
There’s movement all around them, members of venue security and Harry’s team all coming and going to ensure everyone is safe. Music and loud cheers can be heard, meaning the opening act if still playing, that the show was not interrupted by what happened backstage.
Harry and Sarah are focused solely on the omega, until they hear a familiar male voice say, “There you guys are. Sarah, you scared the shit out of me running off like that.”
She looks up at her husband, Mitch, and smiles sheepishly before saying, “Sorry, I really didn’t think. We heard her distressed whines and just reacted.”
“Is she okay?” Mitch asks, crouching down to be level with the group on the floor.
“We think so,” Harry answers. “There was an alpha who had her cornered. Not sure what exactly he was planning but it was obviously nothing good. She was unconscious when we got to her. Just wish she’d wake up so we can check that she’s really unharmed.”
“Is she in a drop?” Mitch asks. Being a beta he’s not as knowledgeable about these things but he knows enough to be concerned about the girl.
“No, definitely not a full drop. But I’ve been flooding the area with calming pheromones and she’s still not waking up,” Sarah says worriedly.
“Maybe she just senses unknown alphas around her. Why don’t I try holding her and you guys move away a bit?” He senses how reluctant they are to move away from the omega, but eventually they listen to Mitch.
He settles on the ground and Sarah passes the omega to him before moving to give them space. After another minute the girl begins to stir, groggily at first before her eyes shoot open and she jumps up to move away from all the people around her. They watch cautiously, unsure what to do with the sudden change in the situation.
***
For awhile you’re stuck in the dark. This isn’t a drop, not really. You’ve only ever dropped twice but you can tell there’s a difference this time. You’re still aware of what’s going on around you, even if the details are fuzzy.
The alpha is gone. That you know for sure. The awful smell is gone, replaced by a much more pleasant one. It’s a mix of black tea and maybe the ocean? Whatever it is reminds you of early morning walks on the beach during family vacations. You relax more into this scent, and then notice that fresh laundry smell which always means someone is releasing calming pheromones.
You start to relax, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. You can still sense multiple alphas, which keeps you a bit on edge. You try to open your eyes, but you’re still in a deep fog, probably due to the mix of intense emotions and the multiple alpha commands you’d been subjected to.
You don’t realize that someone is holding you until they shift and place you in another person’s arms. The alpha scent fades and you know the person now holding you is for sure a beta.
Finally, you manage to open your eyes. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but when you do, you’re overwhelmed, and honestly a bit embarrassed. Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, the world-famous popstar you’re here to see, is sitting across the hall from you, studying you closely. Next to him is a woman you recognize as his drummer.
After these discoveries, you fully realize your current position; that you’re being held in someone’s lap. One glance at the man shows it’s Harry’s guitarist. You’re no longer embarrassed. No, now you’re completely mortified. You quickly extract yourself from his hold and stand up, looking at the group, totally speechless.
They slowly stand as well, all looking at you. And not just them, but the other dozen or so people that are still in the hallway. There are so many eyes on you, watching you, and you just want to disappear.
Picking up on your unease, Harry says, “Why don’t we go somewhere less exposed, hm? You can hang in my dressing room and maybe have a medic look you over if that’s alright?”
Without thinking you begin to nod your head, just wanting to get somewhere quiet with less people. He reaches out as though to place his hand on your back and lead you but seems to think again and pulls his arm back. Instead, he walks ahead, and you follow, Mitch and Sarah coming as well.
You arrive at the room, groaning when you see more people waiting there. One’s the medic Harry mentioned, another is obviously a police officer, and the third is a man you don’t recognize.
“Harry, need to you choose your outfit and get dressed. We’ll take care of, uhm, sorry I didn’t catch your name,” says the man.
“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say immediately, surprised at just how scratchy your voice comes out.
Sarah must pick up on it because she asks you, “Would you like a cup of tea love?”
You can’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that.
“What’s go funny?” she asks, smiling as well.
“It’s just, your scent, it definitely smells like tea. And the first thing you say to me is about tea. Sorry, I know it’s not polite to comment on someone else’s smell,” you finish, head lowering in a new wave of embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended,”
“Plus, you’re right,” Harry adds. “Swear I can’t make a cup of tea without thinking of her.”
“Aw, H, you think of me? How sweet,” she says with a joking tone.
“Real sweet,” Mitch says, then adds, “But stay away from my girl.”
You smile watching the easy interaction, happy to be distracted by their banter, sipping on the tea Sarah brings you.
That is until the man, whom you’ve learned is Harry’s manager, Jeff, reminds Harry that he’s supposed to be getting dressed, and the cop and medic walk over to you. There’s a table in one corner of the room and they lead you to it.
“Y/N, I’m Kate, I’m just going to get your vitals and check you over to make sure you’re okay, is that alright with you?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply.
“And I’m Officer Michaels, is it okay if I ask you some questions about the incident tonight?"
“Of course.”
And so, as Kate does a quick exam you tell the whole story to the officer, starting with the uneasy feeling when you first noticed the man, all the way to him using his alpha voice to corner you in a back hallway.
Harry had reentered the room by this point, dressed in his show outfit and looking completely ready to get on stage. But he’s making no moves to leave the room, even though Jeff is reminding him the show is supposed to start in five minutes. Mitch and Sarah leave to finish getting ready themselves.
“Are we all set here?” You ask Kate and Officer Michaels.
“I have everything I need,” he replies. Kate adds, “Everything checks out just fine,” and they both exit the room as well.
This leaves you with just Harry and Jeff.
“Great, so I guess I should go back to the pit then?” You knew you were holding everything up and didn’t want to be more in the way than you already have been.
“Actually, Y/N, it would probably be best if you stay here for the show. Jeff, can you go grab Jada for me?”
The man nods, leaving you alone in the room with Harry. He motions to the couch, inviting you to sit and you do so. He sits on the coffee table facing you.
“I know you want to see the concert, and I know the man is gone, but I have to admit, my alpha is a bit on edge right now. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I could go out there and perform if you’re not completely safe. I would really like it if you stayed in this room and watched the concert on the TV over there. I promise to get you and your friends tickets to another show, alright?”
You’re taken aback by this, surprised by how much he seems to care about you, a random fan he’s never met before. And knowing that his alpha was triggered by what happened to the point where it’s still uneasy is a pretty big deal. That normally doesn’t happen with strangers. Sarah was no longer worried, and the alpha security guards were completely fine the second they caught the man.
So why was Harry’s alpha still calling the shots? It would make sense if you were partners, or at the very least, friends. Maybe Harry does truly care that deeply about all of his fans. That must be it. Because it certainly can’t be you in particular. There’s nothing special about you, other than being a damsel in distress and nearly derailing his show.
He must see the confusion on your face and continues, “Jada will be here in a moment, and she’ll hang out with you. Anything you need, just ask her. I won’t see you after the show, I leave right from the stage, but talk to Jada and Jeff and they’ll make sure you get home safely.”
“Okay, thank you so much for everything,” you reply.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Y/N, I am so very sorry something like this happened to you here. I always want this to be a fun, safe place for everyone.”
“It’s not your fault. Please, don’t feel bad. It is completely that knothead’s fault. You guys are the ones that saved me.”
He reaches forward and places his hand on top of yours, just for a second. Your hand tingles as he pulls away, like a bolt of electricity had just gone through it. You meet his eyes, and see he felt it too. You stare at each other, frozen for a moment, until there’s another knock at the door.
Harry stands quickly and introduces you to Jada as she joins you on the couch.
“Okay, I have to go before Jeff kills me. Y/N please give Jada your contact info so we can get those new tickets to you. Get some safe,” he says.
“Thank you, break a leg,” you reply and a second later he’s gone.
You talk to Jada throughout the start of the show, smiling as she lets you in on some behind the scenes info about the tour. After a few songs she asks if there’s anything she can get you.
“I actually have kind of a weird favor. I was supposed to come with a friend, but she couldn’t come at the last minute. I promised to send her videos and she’s going to be suspicious if I don’t have any. Would you be able to take a couple videos from the pit? I just don’t want to have to explain what happened. At least, not yet.”
“Of course, girl, I’ve got you. I’ll go get a couple of the next songs. Are you okay in here? There’s security outside the door so no one will be able to get in.”
“Yea, I’ll be fine,” you reply with a smile.
She walks out and you sink into the couch, grateful for a few minutes alone. Everyone has been so lovely, but it’s been a lot, and you need a minute just to breathe. You close your eyes, relaxing your body, and when you’re fully calm, you smell it.
There’s another alpha scent, but not one of a person nearby. No, it’s in the fabric of the couch. And the blanket next to you. And the shirt draped over the back of the couch.
It’s Harry’s scent. And it’s amazing. So clean, and fresh, with hints of chocolate, and the forest, and something sweet. Maybe roses, you think. Definitely a hint of floral. And once you catch the scent, it’s all you can think about, like it’s wrapped you in a warm hug. You feel better than you have in hours, the stress of the day fully washing away.
Even when Jada comes back, Harry’s smell is what you focus on the most. She notices you’re quieter than before and must assume you’re just tired from everything that has happened. She goes back out towards the end of the show to grab another video and you can’t help yourself. You turn to the side, right where the shirt is, and purposely take a deep breath. It’s almost overwhelming, your omega telling you to steal the shirt so you’ll always have the delicious scent with you.
That snaps you back to reality. You need to get your omega under control. You’re just like every other fan, thirsting for the amazing Harry Styles. Get a grip, you tell your omega. He’ll never be ours, don’t get attached.
Jada comes back, the show ends, and she leads you to a car that will bring you home. She asks for your car keys and ensures someone else will grab it from the station and drop it off at your place. She rides with you back to your home, along with a security guard.
You exchange numbers during the drive and breathe a sigh of relief when your apartment building comes into view. It’s been an exhausting day, and you can’t wait for a hot shower and your comfy bed.
You thank Jada for everything and notice them waiting for you to get safely inside before driving away.
You scorch your skin in the shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and burrow under your covers.
You fall asleep that night not thinking of the horrible alpha, and the horrors of the day, but rather of green eyes, soft hands on yours, and the delicious scent that can only belong to Harry.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, (requests), please let me know!
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noisycroissant · 6 months
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"It's you..."
Astarion x Reader
She was one of those marks that broke his chipped heart. The trusting ones, the doe-eyed ones who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. It hurt every minute he spent with her knowing that he was simply leading her to a fate worse than death.
He remembered the look in her eyes when they took her away with the others at the party where they lured all their marks to once a month. He dreamed of that look for years only to wake up to find himself shaking, face wet with tears. He didn't want to keep doing this, but another year of being confined and tortured and starved with no hopes of escape, freedom or otherwise...no, he couldn't survive that. Not again.
But then, he saw her again. He was sure it was his fragile mind playing tricks on him. Constant torture can do that you, y'know. But then he saw her again. The same hair. Skin paler though. And then he heard her voice.
"Astarion?"
When he heard his name in that voice again, his heart dropped to the pits of his stomach. He'd do anything, beg at her feet, grovel for forgiveness, anything to not hear that tone in her voice.
"I am angry for what you did to me. To my life. But I also understand why... I've had to do it myself."
I've had to do it myself.
If he ever had thoughts of murdering Cazador in the darkest ways possible, those thoughts just became a million times darker.
"Where you here all these years? I never saw you. I thought I knew every turned spawn in the palace."
"I was locked up for "lack of respect" and "till I learnt what was good for me "."
He knew what that meant. Lashes, pliers, blood, pain, hunger, tears.
Desperate prayers falling on deaf ears.
"I'm.. I don't deserve to say sorry. You'd have been... anywhere but here..if it weren't for me."
"I know. But you did what you did to survive. I don't begrudge you for that. I had enough time in that cell to know that choice does not live in these walls."
*******
And that's how it began. That was how hope came back into two people's lives. How it grew and bloomed with each passing look, each time fingers brushed while walking across hallways, each time a secret letter was found under a pillow.
After 150 years, Astarion dared to dream.
He would always curse himself when he remembered that night. It had taken them almost a year to plan, another year to talk courage into themselves to go through with it.
He remembered how soft her hands were when he held them as they ran through shadows.
Freedom. It was so close. Just a breath away.
And in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
Of course. What had he been thinking? They'd never be free. Not as long as that monster had a leash on them.
"Don't let them see each other, Godey. But make sure they hear."
Astarion remembers the day his heart finally crumbled to ash.
*******
Decades later, when he was finally let out again, the very first night he goes to the highest roof he could find in Baldur's Gate. And he sat there. Waiting for the sun. The only way he could be free of this hellish life. The only way he could forget the sins.
His skin prickled and he cried as the sky turned pink.
The next thing he remembers is waking up on a beach with a unholy squirming in his eye. A crashed ship, fire and smoke bellowing. Intellect devourers running amok. But he was out in the sun and it didn't burn. It didn't hurt.
The confusion was enough to drive him mad. 200 years of rage and pain, and he finally had a chance to end it. But even that was taken from him.
He heard footsteps and chatter. Hand goes to his dagger naturally. But then he hears a voice.
Her voice.
This must be the tenth circle of hell, he tells himself. This is where depraved sinners like him go to. Where they're tortured for eternity with the things they'll never see again.
Like the sun.
Or her.
But hope survives in the darkest of hells.
And it had found him again.
"Astarion?"
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robiinurheart33 · 7 days
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I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2
Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.
Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.
So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.
Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.
Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.
He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?
Huh.
Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.
Hwlli
That’s not quite right.
Gellp
Nope.
Hellu
Oh my god.
Hello
There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.
U up?
He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.
Drunk?
Soap frowns.
Who
You.
Wanna try anf gues, Lt?
You are drunk.
He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.
Yiu think so?
I know so.
Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.
Ittle know iy all
You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?
Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-
His phone is vibrating.
Crawling back to you.
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You know how Lazarus water causes madness to people dunked in it?
And how some of us play around with the idea that Ectoplasm is super charged Lazarus water?
Well heres an idea, Ectoplasm can cause madness just from being around it. Ancients forbid you ever come into skin contact with the stuff or in Dannys parents case, eat it.
They've been doing both since long before Jazz and Danny were born, giving them a wierd pseudo resistance to the madness effects. With that being said, Danny is a Lazarus Pit monster and his loaded with the stuff and the stronger he gets the more dangerous his ectoplasm- his blood and body- becomes.
People start succumbing to madness around Danny, starting with Sam. He eventually finds out about this but not before his entire city is basically destroyed. He runs away to a different dimension, destroying the portals in the process and promptly goes full Elsa, ice castle and all.
This of course attracts attention from both heros and villains from this world who come snooping around to find out what the deal is with this heavily fortified castle. Where did it come from? Who does it belong to? Whats inside?
Danny is hiding inside answering none of thier questions and manages to evade the few people who managed to get inside and stay inside for a bit despite his numerous ice guards. Danny decided he wasn't going to tell anyone anything, not only in fear that that knowledge would be used and abused not only against him but the rest of the Infinite Realms as well.
Not to mention if anyone finds out he insights madness in people just by being around them...well. People have killed for far less.
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frayazicat · 2 months
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what if Triplets Dan, Danny, and Ellie?
like, people like to make at least Dan and Danny twins, but why not all three?? i never see that happen.
here's what i'm thinking. Reveal Gone Good, but Danny now has to tell his parents about the OTHER TWO biggest secrets he's kept from them; Dan and Ellie. he's a little hesitant cause this is not Phantom Planet compliant so they don't know about Vlad.
Dan's still in his thermos timeout thinking about what he's done and Ellie is...somewhere.
so, he tells them about his clone and his future self. this includes what Vlad has done to him. does it include who did this? maybe, i don't know. dealer's choice. anyways, the Fenton parents want to meet their new kids.
Team Phantom gets in touch with Ellie to get to FentonWorks as soon as possible while Danny introduces them to Dan.
it..might not go as planned, might end up fine, that's also dealer's choice. but! in the end, they somehow redeem Dan. Ellie arrives and the duo are welcomed into the family!
but, there are two problems now.
1) how do they explain away their new children?
and 2) Dan is full ghost (and adult-sized, i'm not sure the parents are old enough for a kid his age) and Ellie is an unstable clone - both half Vlad, and really not wanting to be half Vlad.
their solution to the second problem? make new bodies for them! they made two fully stable Halfa clone bodies from Danny, had Ellie and Dan fuse their cores inside these clones near the end of making them, and waited for them to pop out of the tubes at the same age as Danny! this might take some help from Clockwork and Danny to pull off without more melting clones..
anyways! now, they have three Halfa children. all they have to do at this point is find a way to explain the sudden appearance of TWO MORE KIDS!
their solution for THAT problem? hack into the database and change the medical files so it showed that THREE kids were birthed instead of one; Danail Jack, Daniel Jackson, and Dannielle Jacklyn Fenton. Dan, Danny, and Ellie.
but the parents take it SO MUCH FURTHER. they bribe the local schools and hospitals, they make fake receipts of things bought for them and fake records of government child support, and they even photoshop younger versions of Ellie and Dan into the family photos to make it legit. heck, they might have even gone back in time via Clockwork to add the birth certificates! they're THAT committed!
so, we got a new family of six gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing their way into legitimacy.
"What do you mean we only had two kids this entire time? Look at these records! Look at how similar they are to their triplet brother! The evidence says otherwise!"
"Listen, if you just play along and say nothing contrary to anybody who asks, we'll stop ghost hunting or driving for one month every time you do so. Sound good? We'll even put in some money to sweeten the deal."
"If we never had these children before, then why do we have memories of Dan viciously beating up Danny and Ellie's bullies at school?"
that sort of thing.
they're COMMITTED. it's INSANE. the town is going CRAZY.
where did these kids come from?? did we seriously forget about two teen kids for sixteen years??
(things go off the rails when Sam and Tucker get in on the action.)
now, i'm putting this under DCxDP, cause of just ONE little detail. Ellie's obsession involves moving, right?
well, what if the Fenton family becomes a wandering family of crime-fighters/mad scientists with an interest in the occult?
what if they get on the JL's radar because of one too many supernatural cases being solved by the Fentons in the JL's local cities?
they're at Gotham? suddenly, it feels as if the air is lighter and that it's not as drenched in evil and insanity as before. what did they do? fought the curses in the local Lazurus Pit like someone wrestling a pig in their mudpen.
they're in Metropolis? Lex woke up one day to find his entire stash of Kryptonite was missing with no trace. what did they do? the triplets broke in after sensing the gems and ate them like candy, their natural ghostliness shorting out the security feed as they do so.
they're in D.C.? all of the ghost relics in the local museums have been stolen with only a note saying, "Sorry for the disturbance! These were too dangerous for the living, so we put them somewhere safe! Don't worry! :)" left behind. what did they do? they took them and chucked them into the ghost portal where some allies on that side put them in safe places.
and that's all i got.
TL,DR; Fenton family goes full mad scientist in order to welcome Dan and Ellie into the family before packing up and wandering the states, effectively gaining the JL's attention with their suspicious and crazy appearances.
(i hope i didn't accidentally steal this idea from another. if i did, i'm sorry. feel free to smack me or something if that's the case.)
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hello everyone welcome to i talk about benrey for a minute here
as someone who’s watched the entirety of hlvrai at least 6 times, the full vods at least 3, and the cast commentary hovering somewhere around 10, i consider myself to be pretty well-versed in the series. i also kin benrey. this is probably important to my perception of him.
the series is about self-aware AI.   its in the title! so it seems obvious enough to me that Benrey was programmed to be the final boss. he was SUPPOSED to be a silly character that antagonizes the protag and throws off the group dynamic, and then it’s a big reveal and you get to beat up this guy that was mean to you!
but he doesnt wanna. hes self aware.
Of all the characters, i think Bubby and Tommy are the most “powerful” in that they were able to break their characters the most. Tommy is a bit of a wild card because he doesn’t usually act like an AI. I view him as the “character you’re supposed to protect” in the party, but somewhere along the way he, too, became self-aware and figured out how to handle his own. I think that’s where the age thing comes in. He was programmed to be a 5-year-old that you’re trying to get out of this dangerous facility! but he didn’t want to be a 5-year-old, he’s smarter than that, he’s capable! so he changed it. Him being the son of Gman also probably helped with him being able to just do that.
I take Bubby and Dr. Coomer as both being tutorial characters. Dr. Coomer is a bit broken, but he still does his best to teach you about things. I think he’s the tutorial NPC that goes “watch out for [x]” and “we can use ropes to cross big pits!” and “we should call them Peeper Puppies!” while Bubby was supposed to be the “here’s how you shoot a gun”
Like, Dr. Coomer does the knowledge about the world, and Bubby does the action. for the video game. And Bubby is supposed to be kinda cold to you, because the action-tutorial NPCs tend to be. Like “what you cant even hold your own? tch, guess ill have to teach you.” But Bubby doesn’t do that. He doesn’t WANT to play the game, he wants to go back home. He liked it before the game was switched on. So he doesn’t teach Gordon shit and just tries to speedrun so the player will leave and he can go back home.
one little scene that stood out to me so much was when the crew is sitting around in a circle with the pigeons. not outside, the other scene with them sitting in a circle and there’s pigeons. why are there 2 of those.
anyways, Benrey is just staring at this pigeon behind Gordon, and singing to it, calmly. And then there’s a loud beep that sounds like the vox, and definitely doesnt come from Benrey. and he suddenly gets up and shoots the pigeon. That reads SO HARD like he was being too soft with the game world, so it pushed him to do something evil randomly. Like a little villain reboot.
Almost everything he does to antagonize Gordon can be read as genuine confusion. He kills random NPCs because he knows theyre not important, and that they can’t feel anything, and that they’ll only slow the team’s progress. And what makes Gordon so mad at him is how often Benrey says Gordon shouldnt be allowed in here. I take that as a similar stance to Bubby. Benrey doesn’t want to be the villain. He doesn’t want the player to progress and make him. That gets more obvious the closer we get to the end, and most people tend to notice it in the last scenes before Xen, where he’s suggesting they go all the way back, and basically begging the player to stop here, at least for a little while.
its really sad, honestly. but i take the cast commentary bits as canon. Which makes it adorable when Benrey comes back into the movie theatre with Gordon and we get
“I wonder what will happen. I bet you know what happens!”
“I win!!!”
He did win. He got to get past being the final boss. He got to join the epilogue. I think, he probably wasn’t supposed to be able to. But these guys broke the game enough that he could. Isn’t that sweet? Isn’t that a nice ending for him? I think he deserves it.
Wayne says he acts like “he isn’t aware unless he’s being spoken to” and I think that fits really well. Like, sometimes his actions are coded into his behavior, so he does them without realizing. And then the player interacting with him (which is the premise of the self-awareness) forces him to actually look at what he did, and sometimes he has no idea how to explain it. Leading to his “huh?”
listen to me. are you listening. i need you to hear this. i need more people to understand benrey. and how much i love him. hes trapped in the narrative, doomed by it to be the villain. but he doesn’t want to be. he clearly cares about the crew in his own silly goofy way. he doesn’t want to fight them. i wrote down everything he said in the finale, and he only says 5 outright malicious lines, all of which are directly after an unnatural pause, like he’s being rebooted again. Some important lines: “I knew this was gonna happen,”
“Stop shooting at me, I have to shoot back, I don’t wanna do that,”
“I didn’t have a big plan, I was supposed to be nice, but you forced me to be BAD so I’m gonna be BAD… friend.” the small, quiet “friend” there gets me every time. even after everything, even after his nature is revealed, he wants to believe theyre still friends.
“Don’t go in there, please… I don’t like that room." The amount of times he sounds so genuinely sad when asking them to stop, or even just saying “bro..” like he’s mourning the friendship they could’ve had. The amount of times he sounds genuinely pained when he’s glitching out and stretching across the screen.
And his last words, said childishly of course, but,
“This isn’t fair.”
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