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#hard 2 see but he has two scars? I think. That he got them after he bailed bc you do not just bail that easily
charliemwrites · 2 months
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1fur1 Price part 2
(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)
The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.
Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…
Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.
He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.
You appreciate the help.
It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.
Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.
Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.
“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”
You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.
Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.
“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”
He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.
“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”
You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.
“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.
You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.
“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.
You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.
“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.
With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.
“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”
A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.
“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”
Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.
So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.
You’re being minded.
It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.
“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”
And work he does.
If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.
And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.
There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.
It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.
“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”
Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.
“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”
A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.
“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.
Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.
“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.
All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.
“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”
Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.
“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”
You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.
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slasherhaven · 3 months
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Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃
2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j
CW: NSFW
You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.
You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.
Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.
You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.
Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.
Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!
Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.
Michael Myers
Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.
When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.
But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.
As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.
The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.
Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.
Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.
Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!
Jason Voorhees
We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.
And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.
When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!
He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.
Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!
No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.
Brahms Heelshire
Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.
He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.
He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.
And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.
Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.
He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.
Bo Sinclair
Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.
Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
Needless to say, he agrees to do it.
And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.
Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.
He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.
Vincent Sinclair
It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!
He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.
He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.
But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.
He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.
On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.
He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.
Lester Sinclair
Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.
He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.
But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!
Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.
The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.
Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.
Bubba Sawyer
Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.
Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.
Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.
And your audience love to watch you do it!
In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .
Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?
Billy Lenz
Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!
He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.
So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.
Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.
And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!
Asa Emory (The Collector)
Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?
He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.
He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.
The mask stays on!
Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.
You two can make it big in BDSM communities.
Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.
Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.
There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)
Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.
Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.
He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.
He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.
Otis Driftwood
Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.
Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.
Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.
Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.
Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.
Baby Firefly
Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.
Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!
She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.
The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.
The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?
Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!
You end up apologising for her.
People are into it though.
Yautja (Predator)
Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.
Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.
He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.
Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.
Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.
You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.
All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.
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readychilledwine · 5 months
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hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍
I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️
No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙
Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold
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Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.
Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)
A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜
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Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.
Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."
Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.
"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.
He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.
"Were they even trying?"
Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."
The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."
The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"
The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."
Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"
Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."
You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.
Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.
"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"
"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.
Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."
You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."
"3," he whispered back.
6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.
"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."
You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"
"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"
Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."
You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.
Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.
"Az-"
"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."
You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.
Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.
The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.
It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.
Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.
"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"
"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."
The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.
Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.
Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."
Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."
Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."
You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.
"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"
"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.
*3 months later*
You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.
"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.
"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."
"You say that until they poop."
"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.
He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."
"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."
He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."
You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, y/n."
653 notes · View notes
backupblogforjg · 2 years
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We can love the person he has turned out to be without whitewashing the crappy things he has done
Guys, I know Darius is cool, but can we please stop victim-blaming Hunter and acting like the way even the good adults in his life treated him is NBD?
‘Cause I keep seeing a lot of “okay Darius was mean to Hunter at first, but Hunter was a brat who got the job because of nepotism, so...” comments.
And look, I really think people in general are hugely underestimating just how badly Hunter was screwed over not just by Belos but by *ALL* the adults around him.
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1) Let’s start by establishing something first: Hunter was never a brat to anybody in the castle.
Now, to be clear, even IF Hunter had been a brat, people 30 years older than him should still have not made his bad situation worse. If there are two people, and one of them is an adult while the other is a kid, the adult is supposed to keep their cool even if the kid acts out. You can punch up but you can’t punch down.
But that point is moot because all the evidence we have points at Hunter being a little nerd who adored the adults around him and was desperate to please them.
Exhibit #1: Dana’s official art, where Hunter freaks out over being slightly less overworked because it will make Lilith hate him. Even with the mask, you can tell he has a frantic expression.
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Exhibit #2: the Hunter’s Palisman Observation stream, when Hunter has a question and is looking for an answer, he reaches out to the Coven Heads to ask them. He sees them as wise and knowledgeable, and wants to learn from them. That makes it extra hurtful that “Darius ignored me, as per usual. Eberwolf hissed at me, also as per usual.”
Exhibit #3: in ASIAS, we learn that Hunter genuinely loves rules and authority. Does that sound like somebody who’d disrespect an adult in charge?
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Exhibit #4: pretty much the entirety of ASIAS. The whole reason Hunter went to Hexside is because an adult who technically ranks below him gave him an order.
There is a grand total of TWO examples in the series where Hunter talks back to an adult.
The first one is when he sees Kikimora again after she tried to murder him.
Note that he never tells Belos what she did, even though he didn’t realise that she had recognised him by his burnt hair, so he thought that she had actually bought his “travellers found me” story and wouldn’t be able to respond to his accusations with any of her own. He could have easily thrown her under the bus, and actively chose not to, even after she almost killed him.
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The second one is in ASIAS, where an angry Hunter confronts the Coven Heads after they rescheduled the meeting behind his back, right after they physically pushed him aside hard enough to almost make him fall and walked away smirking at his misery.
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Note that, immediately after, he looks like this. Arguing with the Coven Heads makes him miserable. He doesn’t want to fight them. He’d much rather ask “how high” when they say “jump.” But they still casually assault him.
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They all knew that Belos had given him the order to leads the meeting. And they knew that Belos is a control freak who is infamous for his lack of mercy. They knew that Belos would see their decision to reschedule as Hunter’s fault, even though they did it behind his back.
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If you think he was being arrogant or whatever here, I want you to look me straight in the eyes and tell me that if your coworkers screwed you over in front of your infamously vicious boss and walked away smirking while pretending they can’t see you and literally pushing you around, you would totally keep your cool.
2) The nepotism excuse also doesn’t work.
Nepotism is supposed to make your life easier.
Hunter is a child covered in scars with huge eyebags and absolutely no social life whatsoever who rolls over and shows his neck the second an authority figure expresses any displeasure with him.
It’s plain to see that getting Belos’ “special treatment” is harming him.
Hunter eventually does pull out the “Belos’ nephew” card, in an attempt to get Darius to back off.
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But by this point, he:
- knows he has disappointed Belos, something that he fears more than death (as per Eclipse Lake)
- has been assaulted by the other Coven Heads...
- ...who added insult to injury by pretending they couldn’t see him, really rubbing it in that they find him worthless
- and then Darius, a man twice his size and thrice his age, grabbed him, spun him around, and stole his clothes
Tl:dr: Hunter is not acting entitled here, he is acting *cornered*. He is lashing out because he is scared, and like any scared kid he is calling out to his “dad.”
And the moment Darius tells him that he has to earn his position as Golden Guard, Hunter immediately agrees to do anything. There is no entitlement there, only a desperate desire to be good enough.
3) On the Boiling Isles, a half-a-witch is at best a social outcast and at worst a target.
For starters, a half-a-witch can’t get an education. You have to be able to perform spells to be allowed to go to school.
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Granted this is for Amity’s advanced class, but the idea is that you have to get there eventually, even if it takes you much longer than the gifted students. In order to go to Hexside, you must at least have the potential to use magic.
Before Luz came into the scene, glyphs were a forbidden knowledge that had been lost for hundreds of years. Add in that palismen are close to extinction, and there is simply no way for a half-a-witch to do magic.
So, you can’t go to school. But can you at least get a job?
Ah. No.
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Eda gets robbed in public by an officer of the law, in plain view of a huge crowd, and their reaction boils down to “sucks to be powerless.”
A half-a-witch essentially has no rights. They are not treated as citizens. It’s completely legal to ban them from essential functions and to refuse them pay for their labor.
If Eda had not found the Selkiedomus’ treasure, she and her family would have starved.
The discrimination against magicless creatures is so bad that even Hooty, arguably the nicest character in the show, still expresses scorn for them.
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Hunter wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest here.
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Being magicless is basically the BI equivalent of being disabled in a society that actively favours eugenics.
 4) So, what did Darius do that was so bad?
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Now, before anybody takes this post as Darius bashing, I want to bring up why he did it.
- Darius was clearly traumatised by the death of his mentor...
- ...who not only died, but also died in circumstances that must have been highly suspicious at best, so that Darius never even got proper closure and has been living with that open wound for years...
- ...in addition to the fact that Darius is extremely protecting of his loved ones, so that he must have felt the urge to protect the memory and legacy of his mentor...
- ...and that’s made ten times more painful if the replacement, who acts like the antithesis of everything his beloved mentor stood for, looks almost exactly like his mentor.
Can you imagine the grief is somebody you love with all your heart dies, and then some time later they appear to come back as an insult to everything they were?
So, I’m not denying that Darius had his own reasons here, nor am I arguing that he is a terrible person.
In case you don’t know, I like Darius so much I wrote a meta titled “Why Darius is a much better person than Fandom gives him credit for.” I like the guy, okay?
Nevertheless, he almost caused irreparable damage.
One of the reasons Hunter is so desperately loyal to Belos, is that Belos is the only one who never looked down on him for his lack of magic.
Now of course the bitter irony here is that Belos is racist against witches.
But Hunter didn’t know that.
All Hunter knew was that every person he ever met thought he was worthless for the way he was born, *except* for Belos, who said he was special.
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And what does Darius do? He goes and reinforces Hunter’s belief that nobody but Belos will ever accept him.
Now, we know that Darius wasn’t really talking about magic there. We don’t know if all grimwalkers lack magic or just Hunter, but either way, later context clues indicate that he was talking about “strength of heart” or something like that.
Nevertheless, he most definitely came across like he was saying that Hunter has no place in the EC because he has no magic.
And Darius is not stupid. He had to know what he sounded like. And he didn’t bother correcting Hunter’s assumption, let him believe that the problem with him were the circumstances of his birth.
Why did Hunter befriend the Emerald Entrails? Because he accidentally stepped on a griffon’s tail. It was sheer dumb luck. If Hunter had put his foot a couple of inches aside, he never would have met Willow.
If not for a single stroke of extraordinarily unlikely good luck, Hunter would have gone back to the castle more convinced than ever that Belos was the only person in the world who could ever give a damn about him, the only one Hunter could ever love and trust.
Darius’ words would have driven him even further into the grasp of his abuser.
This is on top of the fact that Hunter canonically reaches out many times to Darius and Eberwolf over the years, and they always responded by giving him the silent treatment. Again, “Darius ignored me as per usual, Eberwolf hissed at me also as per usual.” How can they blame him for being an ignorant fanatic, if they have systematically rebuffed any and all of his attempts to talk to the only people in the castle who are not Belos’ stooges?
And on top of the fact that “you always do as you are told” is one hell of a line to give a kid *who gets blades thrown at his face* if he says a single word Belos doesn’t like. Hunter’s devotion to Belos is also his shield from violent beatings. If Hunter ever acted “rebellious” to Belos, Belos wouldn’t just send him to his room without dinner.
5) Has Darius changed?
Duh.
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6) So what’s the problem?
Remember when people were like “Amity is doing right by Willow now, but she still needs to apologise”?
And when people were like “Alador has finally started walking in the right direction towards eventually becoming a decent father for his kids, but the first step was admitting that he treated them horribly”?
As far as I know, nobody was like “Amity is cool now so there is no need for her to say sorry to Willow, and Willow kind of sucked anyway” or like “Alador is cool now so wtf does Amity have to bitch about and move his hand away, just hug it out and ignore the past”?
What this whole tl;dr essay boils down to, is that S3 needs to have a scene where the good adults in Hunter’s life acknowledge that they did him dirty, without excuses and without victim blaming.
That’s all.
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turtletaubwrites · 2 months
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Sweet Abduction ~ Part 2
I loved the request for Part 1, and thank you to everyone who voted on fluff or smut for the honeymoon. Smut won out, but oops! I fully intended on this being all smut, but I went too hard on the fluff. So we'll be getting a very smutty final part 3, I promise!
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Pairings: Katakuri x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2175
Ao3 Link
Summary: Your new husband takes you to his private home after the wedding, and lets you choose if you'd like to have a real relationship with him or not. But there's another promise you need to make first.
Rating/Warnings: SFW, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Light Angst, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Eventual Smut, Mildly Suggestive, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world
A/N: I swear the smut is on the way! I just love these two cuties so much, and had to give them some more fluffy buildup 😭🍩💜
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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“Where are we going?”
You hardly felt the ocean breeze from the crook of your new husband’s arm. You stretched your legs out over his forearm, fluffing the fabric of your wedding dress. Then you snuggled in against his chest, that giant fur scarf like the softest pillow you’d ever felt.
“We are go–”
“What kind of animal did this fur come from? They must be huge! Do they live on your island too?”
Katakuri tilted his head down, his warm, scarlet eyes shutting up your nervous chatter.
You gave an embarrassed smile, and felt more than heard a pleased hum from him. 
“We are going home, and we’re almost there.”
He stepped off the boat, setting you back on his shoulder, so you could get a better view. 
His home, his mansion, his castle? You couldn’t be sure since it was so massive.
“It’s beautiful! But you don’t live at the Whole Cake Chateau? I mean, I know this is your island. I guess I won’t be living at the doughnut shop anymore...”
He’d turned his head, looking at you from the side, and you saw his brows furrow when a sudden panic hit you.
“Am I still allowed to work at the shop,” you asked, your voice a bit high. You realized that you’d been digging your nails into his shoulder on either side of your hips. 
He offered his hand, and you reached out, letting him hold you in his palm. 
“You may do anything that makes you happy, Y/N,” Katakuri promised with that lovely voice of his, holding you at eye level. 
Releasing a deep breath along with your panic, you smiled at him. 
“Take me home, please.”
~
There were a few servants outside, but you didn’t notice any as he carried you through the echoing halls. 
“I have had a room prepared for you. Please let me know if there’s anything else you require.”
He set you gently down, leaving you to crane your neck.
“But… you’re not leaving, are you?”
Katakuri cleared his throat, going to one knee to close the distance a bit.
His gorgeous eyes poured over you, and you held your breath as he began to unravel his scarf. 
That wide, scarred mouth, and almost tusk like fangs had definitely been surprising. 
But he was still so pretty.
“Please don’t leave me here alone.”
His eyes seemed to soften, and you relaxed into his touch as he traced over your hair, then smoothed his hand over your back. 
“You want to stay with me?”
“I do, Katakuri,” you promised, touching his wrist to help him believe you.
He seems so sad.
His tells were subtle, that calm exterior so powerful.
But when he revealed himself to you, it was like he couldn’t quite hold up that wall. 
His eyes shifted away, and he nodded slowly. 
“It’s time for my merienda.”
“Your–”
“Y/N, I did not want you to be forced into this.”
You started to soothe his guilt. You’d already chosen him, but your words got caught in your throat as you watched him pull those white gloves off of his fingers. 
His hands were so big, but they were also strong, and you could see blood pulsing through his veins. 
“You are my wife now,” he sighed, breaking you out of your reverie. “If you truly want a real relationship with me, then I will have to trust you with…”
His lips were parted as he stared down at you. 
“If? Well… I’d like a real relationship if… if you’d like to be with me?”
Your breath hitched, anxiety racing as he closed his eyes, hanging his head.
“Oh,” you said, voice awkwardly high again. “It’s okay if you–”
“I’ll just show you.”
You yelped, jumping as the massive room around you was filled with a rolling, slightly sweet smelling substance. It rippled as it stretched to encompass the whole room, leaving you encased inside with your husband, and a very large table. 
“What’s happening?”
Katakuri pulled a large tray off the table, and sat cross legged in front of you. 
He set it down, and you frowned. 
“It’s my doughnuts?”
You decided to sit down as well, the squishy surface beneath you not helping with your dazed mind. 
“Please, Y/N,” he started, leaning down toward you, his voice soft. “What I’m about to share with you is something I trust no one with. I promise to be kind, and I promise to protect you. Whatever you need to be happy.”
Noticing that you had your hand on your chest, you took in a breath, the suspense making you almost jittery. 
“This secret is the most important thing in my life. It protects my family.”
You wanted to touch him, to comfort him with whatever this struggle was. But you waited.
“I know you already promised yourself to me, Y/N,” he said as quietly as his voice seemed able to go. “But if we are to truly be together, I need you to make another promise.”
He watched you nod, his scarlet eyes staring for so long, as if he could read your reaction before opening himself up. 
“When I was a child, my sister was hurt because of me.”
You leaned forward without realizing it, and tried to keep yourself still to fully hear him.
“I was attacked for the way that I look, but I was stronger. While I was relishing my victory, while I was relaxing, they hurt Brulee instead.”
You remembered his sister’s scar, ripping across her face, and your heart hurt for them both. 
“Since that day, I vowed to never drop my guard. I covered the face that had gotten my sister hurt. I became that best brother I could be, so that I could protect my family.”
You pushed yourself up from that squishy surface, making your way to him. His fingers were digging into his knee, so you reached out.
You were about a head taller than his knee while he was standing, and you gave a small smile at how close he was now as he sat like this. 
“That sounds very lonely,” you said softly, laying your hands on his strained fingers.
“It’s my duty,” he countered after a pause.
“Is that why,” you asked, leaving a soft kiss on his knuckles, “you never lie on your back?”
His fingers had relaxed as you touched his warm skin. The strange glow of the light filtering through this soft cocoon he’d trapped you in made his face seem softer, and you kissed his hand again.
“This is my secret, Y/N. I am trusting you to never betray it. To let me keep up this image of the perfect brother, so that I can protect my family.”
The hand you weren’t touching lifted, stroking your hair gently as a small smile touched that wide mouth of his.
“You’re my family now too.”
Shivers ran down your body. You hadn’t had family in so long. 
“I promise, Katakuri. I will protect your secret.”
He released a breath, clenching his eyes shut for a moment, and you wondered what this heavy secret could be. 
“Will you take a few steps back?”
You obeyed his request, your shoes pressing into that strange material.
He turned so his side was facing you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Then he let his back touch this soft ground, lying down as you grinned, and ran toward him. 
“Is this it,” you almost laughed, touching his shoulder so he would tilt his head to see your smile. 
“You’re not… disappointed?”
“Why would I be disappointed? Now I know that my husband can relax, and that we can lay down together. That’s wonderful,” you rushed out, your excitement and nerves returning as you squeezed his shoulder.
“There’s something el–”
“Katakuri, why don’t you just tell me all of it now. I promise I won’t be disappointed, or think less of you, or anything like that.”
“Alright,” he agreed, rolling onto his side to prop his head up on an elbow, his gaze so close.
“I made this room with my devil fruit power, the Mochi-Mochi Fruit.”
You almost bombarded him with questions about that, but chewed the inside of your lip.
“I use it to create a private space. This is where I come to relax. Not to meditate and prepare for battle,” he huffed, tapping his free hand against his thigh. “This is the only time and place that I get to be free to enjoy myself, without the weight of… everything.”
“What do you do to relax?”
“I lie on my back.”
You shocked yourself by giving him a playful slap against the expanse of his muscled chest, needing to pause for a moment before speaking.
“That can’t be the only joy in your life. I refuse to believe it.”
Did he blush?
Katakuri pulled the huge tray with tea and boxes of your doughnuts between you, opening the lid to grab five of them at once.
I should make bigger ones for him.
“I’ve loved doughnuts since I was small. I love your doughnuts very much,” he praised, his deep voice making your toes curl in your shoes. 
“When I take my merienda’s, I… I’ll just show you.”
Your gorgeous, frightening husband rolled onto his back, ate your doughnuts, licked his fingers, and sang.
You may have been stunned by the way his jaw stretched so wide while he ate, but then his sweet, silly voice filled the air, and you couldn’t believe you’d ever seen him as frightening. 
🎶Oh, doughnuts!
So delicious, doughnuts!
Delicious to the hole, doughnuts!
By myself, I eat doughnuts!
Lying on my back, I eat doughnuts!🎶
He trailed off as he glanced toward you, moving to sit cross legged as he wiped his fingers on his white, wedding clothes.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Are you scared? Are you alright?”
Hot tears were burning your cheeks, falling too fast for you to catch as they dripped off your chin onto the mochi below. You tried to nod, but quiet sobs had filled your chest, and you couldn’t seem to move.
“I–I am sorry. Please, what can I–”
“My…” you choked out, your lips quivering as you clutched your chest.
“My dad… My dad used to sing like that.”
You looked up, hoping he’d understand what you were feeling since you couldn’t form any more words.
His eyes lost their near panic and pain, and you sobbed more as you watched them fill with so much sweetness. It fueled the overwhelming, bittersweet joy that had taken you over.
Memories flooded your mind, so real you could feel them. Your dad kneading dough, showing you how to glaze, smiling as his customers sighed with contentment after eating his doughnuts. 
And his silly little songs that he would sing and hum all day. His gentle soul shined through everything he did.
Without him, it was as if the sun had gone from the sky. He was the warmth that kept you safe, that taught you how to live, how to love. You tried to live the way he’d taught you, to be kind, to be grateful for everything you had. But the lack of his sweet, silly songs made joy harder to find.
“Y/N,” he breathed, reaching his hand slowly toward you, as if not sure what to do with it. 
“Thank you,” you choked out, your knees going weak.
He caught you under your arms before you fell, and you clung to his hand as your sobs started to calm.
“Is there something I can do,” he asked, speaking quietly while your breathing evened out.
“I’m sorry, Katakuri, it’s just– You've just…”
A smile broke out across your tear stained face.
“You’ve just made me very happy.”
Stumbling toward him, you fell over his knee to hug his thigh.
He let out a soft grunt, then lifted you easily to his chest. 
His thumb rubbed gently over your back as he pressed you to him, your head resting in the crook of his neck.
He smells so good.
“So you really…” he started, his words vibrating though you. “You really like my singing?”
“I love it,” you laughed, pressing a warm kiss to his neck. 
Katakuri’s body seemed to vibrate, and you could feel the chills run over him. The intensity of his reaction sent chills running through you, and you became intensely aware of how much of his skin you were touching.
“Is it alright if I look at you?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded against him, brushing the remains of tears from your face.
I must look a mess.
You sat in his hand again, a rush of feelings warming you. Your feet dangled, kicking softly back and forth as he looked at you, an almost puzzled look on his face.
“So was that the big secret,” you teased, hoping there wasn’t more. “Because I’m ready to see our bedroom now.”
Your sweet husband let out a pleased laugh, sending all that mochi away as he held you against his chest. 
“Anything to make you happy, Y/N.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: I just want to squish their cute little cheeks 😭
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 3 (End)
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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gheistheist · 4 months
Text
—Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Headcannons: Part 14—
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1. Knife Play
- He’d have a thing for it but not make it all that noticeable, thinking it might scare you off and possibly even think he’s deranged for wanting to cut into you in the first place. He may make jokes, especially if you’re being bratty and say something along the lines of ‘keep that up and I’ll carve my name in your arse’. Even if you told him that’d be hot, he’d still be iffy on actually admitting he’d love to do it. He would not under any circumstances hold the knife to your throat, though. Weapon play in that sense would be a no no for him. Especially guns. If you did end up telling him you wanted him to put his name on you with a knife, though, then he’d be all for it and it would turn him on to no end. Every time he was doing you from behind and saw the scar he put on you, it would make him straight up rail you.
2. Oral Fixation
- He definitely has one when it comes to watching you. After he fingers you, he’d stick them in your mouth so he can watch you suck on them. He’d love cock and ball worship, just watching that mouth work. He’d definitely like the casual type of blowjobs too. Like if you two are on the couch watching a movie and you’re just laying there, lazily sucking the head and licking the shaft while still focused on the TV. You mimicking a nursing motion on the tip though would be his favorite. Not just the feeling of your lips and tongue massaging the sensitive area, but simply watching you suck on it like a baby getting it’s milk would do something to him.
3. Eye Contact
- He demands it most when he knows you can’t do it. If he’s making you feel things you never felt before and you can’t keep them open to save your life, that’s when he makes you try your absolute hardest to maintain eye contact. The way you’d have to raise your eyebrows and try desperately to keep your lids open would be insanely hot to him. Watching your eyes roll back involuntarily, feeling your body tense and clench around him as you fight the urge to close your eyes and let your body simply accept what he’s giving you with open arms and legs.
4. Thigh Riding
- He’d love it. Absolutely love it. If you were sitting on his lap, he’d gently bounce his leg to silently encourage it. Foreplay would almost always include you grinding on his thighs. He would get off to it as much as you did. For punishment purposes, I could easily see him making you ride his thigh while he was in his jeans and had his pistol strap on to give you different textures and he’d get rock hard to seeing how wet you made the fabric and how increasingly desperate you got.
5. Betting & Brattiness
- Very often, he’d make a bet with you on how long you’ll last before your first orgasm hits. If you win, you get rewarded. If you lose, you get a punishment of his choosing. It would be a fun game for the both of you, especially if you behave more often than not. It would give him an excuse to ‘discipline’ you. I could easily see him liking a mix between obedience and brattiness, though. He of course would love putting you in your place, making you crack, getting you to finally give in. On the other hand, though, he’d also love seeing you instantly desperate and ready to obey him. On your knees without him having to say a word, ready and eager to please him. He wouldn’t necessarily have a preference because both arouse him greatly but if you were 50/50 with it, that would be the best for him for sure. He’d like the fact that he never knew what he was gonna get.
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thedaughersofferrix · 11 months
Text
Birthdays
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(work is not nsfw, but this blog is generally intended to be 18+)
synopsis: cal forgets about his birthday. you don't.
pairing: cal kestis x gn! reader
content warnings: pining, fluff, reader is a jedi
word count: 1.5k
a/n: something short and sweet to say happy jedi survivor release everybody. game looks amazing & i'm so happy to see cal again. might be a part 2, but i'm not sure atm
if cal kestis has a million fans, then i'm one of them. if cal kestis has one fan, then i'm them. if cal kestis has no fans, that means i'm dead.
-
Cal decided that fighting the Empire would be a priority in his life five years ago.
After he destroyed the holocron so the force-sensitive children in the galaxy could live in peace, that was his vow.
The Mantis crew got to work; blowing up Haxion Brood bases and wiping out legions of stormtroopers at a time. The fight thrilled him and every battle only left him in anticipation of the next.
It got to the point where he struggled to think of anything but the fight. Every thought was the next move, their wrongs and the perpetrators. The scars, the injuries and the losses continued and Cal never wavered.
He knew it was an obsession, but he just couldn’t help it. It was a need, etched into his soul and a part of his identity. His was Cal Kestis. The rebel Jedi, the most wanted man in the Empire. And the most dangerous.
Then he met you. 
Well, he met you again, because he’d met you years ago, back when the temple on Coruscant was a Jedi temple. When Master Tapal was alive and little Cal’s mind couldn’t even fathom an Empire taking everything from him.
You’d been his crèche-mate and friend, long before either of you had been padawans.
In between lessons, you would spar or lounge in the dining hall, where most of the other younglings liked to loiter. He formed a puppy-love crush on you that made his Master chuckle. It’s only natural, Cal. The feelings will fade with time. He has half-right, Cal supposes.
He remembers vividly the last time he saw you when he and Master Tapal were minutes away from loading onto a cruiser with their clone troops. Thinking back, he’s embarrassed by how hesitant he was to leave you.
Don’t get all sentimental about this, you told him wisely. We’ll see each other when we get back.
It was so hard to tell himself you were dead. 
Cal Kestis was the last living Jedi, fighting against the Empire that deemed his kind a traitor and punished them for crimes they never committed.
You had died, so had your master and so had everyone else he once knew. That had been difficult for him to accept.
Merrin and Cere understood the pain and that helped, at times. Though sometimes he didn’t want to understand. He wanted to see you, feel your arms embracing him and hear your voice in his ear. He didn’t talk about you to them though. He wanted something for himself, a little what-if to hold on to during the nights he felt particularly melancholic. 
Then came his trip to Segra Milo, to speak with Saw Gerrera about his next move.
By that point, the Partisans recognised him on sight and offered him only a nod of acknowledgement when he passed by. 
There you were, in all your glory. Older, a bit more rough around the edges (like himself) and even more attractive than you’d been about nine years ago.
When the two of you locked eyes and time bowed at your feet, to allow you both this moment of silent disbelief.
“Cal?” you had whispered. He whispered your name back and you smiled widely. 
You embraced him like he had been so desperate for you to do. And he heard your voice, the one that had previously only reached him in dreams.
“I thought you died,” you told him.
“I thought you died,” he said, in a single breath. Emotion threatened to explode from his chest until Saw Gerrera cleared his throat.
“I hate to break up this lover’s reunion,” he said. “But we do have a war to fight.”
“Tonight,” you whispered into his ear and he felt like a padawan with a crush again.
Sure enough, the two of you made a rendezvous under the moonlight. The cavernous, dangerous terrain of Segra Milo felt so inviting that night.
You explained to him that you and your master had been ambushed by your own troopers. You and your master were separated when they received the orders and by luck, you weren’t the one in a room full of clones. Quietly you found an escape pod and left for the nearest planet. You cut your padawan braid and disassembled your lightsaber on the same day. The kyber crystal that powered it hung from your neck, hidden behind layers of clothing.
“One day I watched them string up a man for dropping his drink on a trooper's foot,” you recalled to him. “They claimed he had done it as an act of civil disobedience and that it was anti-Imperial activity. I rebuilt my lightsaber and started looking for the Rebellion the same day.”
You were the same person he remembered, only better. Now you were stronger and smarter, without losing your humanity. 
The next day, you were separated again. You were travelling to Devaron to provide the Partisans there with support. He tried to go with you, but you sagely reminded him of the danger of two Jedi being found together.
You exchanged comm links the night prior and hugged tightly before you boarded your ship and he the Mantis. It reminded him of the one you gave him before what he thought had been your demise. He prayed he wouldn’t have to remember this hug the same way. 
“Until next time, Cal,” you said, hopeful and bright.
“Until then,” he replied, leaving you with a smile.
The next time he saw you, he thinks he might have hugged you tighter than he’d ever hugged anyone.
There had been a next time, he thought. There could be another one.
And there was. In fact, there had been many next times. He couldn’t count on his hands how many times he had gotten to see you. On the good days, you spoke and drank together. On the days, you fought and mourned together. But you were together and it was so much easier than it had been before.
Recently he’d probably gone the longest without seeing you, which made him realise the effect you had on him.
The Empire was still are the forefront of his mind, almost always. It consumed his actions and words. Slowly but surely, however, you had been weaselling your way into an important position in his life.
He didn’t care about the Empire when he was looking at you and he may as well have not met an Inquisitor when he’s hearing your laugh. You were there and he didn’t need to think about any of that.
Then, when the gap you filled was empty again with your departure, he was consumed by the need to fight once more.
He forewent sleep and food, only collapsing when his body refused to preserve and eating when the hunger pangs came. Fight, fight, fight, was all he could think about. It never really occurred to him to celebrate his victories or even do simple things, like check the date. 
But you returned to him again and reminded him of what he was missing.
“A win like this is worth sitting down for,” you insisted, sitting beside him at the fire. “Besides, today is special.” His brow furrowed. 
“What’s today?” he asked you, which made you laugh, loud and beautiful.
“You can’t be serious, Cal.”
“I am! What’s today?”
“Cal,” you sighed. “It’s your birthday.”
His mind went blank as the gears started to turn. “Oh,” was what he came up with. You laughed at him again.
“Did you really forget?” you asked him. 
“I haven’t celebrated it in years,” he admitted and you frowned, making him wish he lied. He hated it when you frowned, though you did make a cute face when you were angry.
“Well we’ll have to make up for that, won’t we?” you announced, standing from your seat and downing your drink. “Stay here for a second.” He nodded and you slipped away.
You returned not long after, with something behind your back.
“Close your eyes,” you instructed. He looked at you curiously. “Just do it.” His eyes fell shut. He heard you shuffling and muttering something to BD-1. “Put out your hands.” He open one palm and pushed it toward you. “Both of them.” He opened the other. He felt a weight in his left hand, then in his right.
“Open.” 
Cal was greeted by a cupcake in his left hand and a multitool in his left.
“I tried to find a cake, but apparently Devaronians aren’t very fond of them,” you explained. “And this,” you pointed to the multitool. “I bought this for you back on Corellia, but you were gone before I could give it to you. It’s got everything you need to keep Beedee in working order.” BD-1 chirped happily at that.
Cal was starstruck. He hadn’t experienced softness like this since before the Clone Wars. Suddenly his chest felt fuzzy and his face was hot. 
“Thank you,” he managed. “No problem,” you answered breezily.
He shared some of the cupcake with you, but you insisted he had to eat at least seventy per cent of it. The multitool found a place on his belt, though with the amount of combat he saw, he’d be using it soon.
You sat beside him at the fire on his birthday and Cal Kestis felt hope again in a way like he’d never felt before. Hope for not just the present, but the future.
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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Tattooed Steve, pt. 2
Part 1 here
Soooo I ended up writing more tattooed Steve. I couldn’t resist. I also realized that Eddie would be the first person to find out but like…other than Robin. But I didn’t count her because Steve and Robin are the same person honestly at this point. Anyway I hope you like it! Pt. 1 is linked above.
—-
It’s two weeks after Vecna when he gets his first one. It’s unexpected, impulsive even, but Steve needs to feel something. He has just spent the past week and half waiting for Eddie to wake up, staring at his pale form, wishing away the anxiety with every beep, beep, beep that comes from the heart monitor. Begging for this stupid, stupid man to wake up.
He isn’t really sure why he wanted Eddie to wake up. Sure the ruggrats love him, and there is the general sense of not wanting any innocent person to die on his watch, but Steve knows deep down it’s about something else. Or more like the potential of something else. He tries not to think about it too hard.
So during that first week and half of watching a comatose Eddie, Steve takes his time studying the man. Learning every curve, and every scar. And eventually, every visible tattoo he can see. They are interesting, not all of them good, but all very Eddie. It somehow makes them better. Some of them are messed up from the bat bites (ironically the bat tattoos remain untouched), but they add to his aesthetic if Steve is being honest with himself.
When Eddie wakes up after that week and a half, groggy and confused (especially towards the fact that Harrington is practically holding vigil at his bedside), the first thing Steve says to him is “Oh thank god you’re awake.” The second is “What the hell were you thinking?” Before Eddie proceeds to pass out again.
Later, when all of the doctors and family and friends have had their time with him, the third thing Steve says to Eddie is, “Tell me about your tattoos.”
And despite the fact half of them are mangled, Steve doesn’t think he has ever seen anyone light up that bright in his life. And when Eddie starts waving his hands in excitement, Steve can’t help but think that he’s never been so close to the sun before.
So, two weeks after Vecna, Steve makes a decision. Or again, if he’s being honest, an impulse. He finds old books in the library about tattoos (which aren’t very helpful), and finds zines hidden between the pages (much more helpful) on stick and pokes.
Steve shows up with supplies from Melvad’s (for a probably very dangerous tattoo kit) at Robin’s doorstep. “Robs, I need you to give me a tattoo.” Then she proceeds to spit all of her morning tea on him.
After a lot of shouting “Did you hit your head again dingus? Oh my god did you get into another fight? Are you having a break down? SPEAK STEVE.”
And a lot of convincing, “Robin I’m fine. No I’m not having a breakdown. Robs, Robbie, Birdie, I swear nothing happen. I just want to do it.”
The end up on Robin’s bathroom floor (because of course all important things happen on the bathroom floor), with a look of deep concentration on her face. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, with only twenty minutes from a zine you smuggled out of Hawkins Library. I can’t believe they even have zines.”
“I don’t think they were aware of it honestly.” Steve snorts. His shirt was off, a patch hair already shaved off right where is heart is placed.
“Do you know what you want?” Robin asks, head tilted.
“No, not really. I was hoping you would help.”
Robin hums, like she’s resisting the urge to point out how impulsive he’s being. Like she knows he needs to do this. “Tell me what made you decide to want one.”
So Steve does. He tell her about waiting for Eddie to wake up. Wondering why Eddie got them. Wanting to own himself again, to actually like something new on his body. Put something there he had control of. His curiosity of if it were painful. His interest behind the stories of Eddies tattoos. How Eddie lit up so bright when asked. Wanting to feel like that. Wanting to be close to the sun again.
Robin mercifully didn’t look too deeply (or at least didn’t push on it) about the interest in Eddie himself. “Okay, I think I got it. Just…hold still.”
Twenty minutes later, after three passes with pen ink and a needle, Robin disinfects his tattoo. Before she covers up, she asks “Do you want to see it?”
Steve nods his head eagerly. The tattoo had painful, more painful than he expected, but he found it sort of grounding. Something to keep him aware of himself, almost as if he was able to grasp parts of himself he wasn’t conscious of before.
When Steve stands up to look in the mirror, there he sees off center on his chest, a wonky little sun. It was something a preschooler could have drawn, but it was one of the most beautiful things Steve had ever seen, and it was made by one of the most important people in his life.
Robin says shyly at Steve’s speechless state, “You said you wanted to be close to the sun again.”
Steve scoops Robin up in an instant, ignoring the stinging both on the outside and inside of his chest. “Thank you Birdie.” Which translates, you are the only person I ever need etched in me forever.
“Always, Stevie.” Which means, you’re never getting rid of me anyway.
They pull away with tearful smiles, and silent promises. Steve can start to feel maybe not much like his old self, but somewhere on the way to who he truly is.
Then Robin says, “Okay, me next.”
————
okay I wasn’t sure if really anyone wanted more, or if I was going to do it but I actually really enjoyed where this ended up. Also I apologize for any tense changes. I quite literally type this on my phone and say screw it, without looking it over. Let me know if you want more maybe? Send me prompts even. Thanks for reading :)
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Pain That Shines Bright (Crimson Mask Chapter 3)
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Warning: Swearing and Panic attacks
You smile faintly as you heard the sound of rain hitting the car window. It was a therapeutic sound that let you sink into your cover, you were currently wrapped up in a cover lying down in the backseat of a car. You looked at the car window from where you laid, seeing the rain hit the window and the grey cloud filled sky.
You were back in England, You didn't have to return to Barcelona for a couple weeks thanks to Giráldez. He wanted to have you fully recovered and ease yourself back in. So you decided to go back to London and stay with Fran Kirby, your old teammate and old roommate. but she wouldn't be able to pick you up from the airport so you would be picked up by two other old friends of yours
"Your alive back there?" You hear a from a certain Yorkie who is in the driving seat driving seat
"Nope" you nonchalantly said in effort to make banter "Uh no Beth, our child is in a coma" You hear the Dutch native say from the passenger seat. "What a shame Vivi" The driver said sarcastically. "I'm just gonna use your water to spray it on the child to be sure, ok Beth?
"IM UP!" You say sitting up to avoid being attacked by Vivianne Miedema who was holding Beth Mead's water bottle about to spray you before laughing at your reaction. You rubbed your face "How long till we hit your place?" You said looking at the houses of london fly by as you drove past them. "About two minutes, F/N" You hear Beth say.
You didn't have a house in England since you moved to Spain but in efforts to get away and recover.....and avoid Lucy and Kiera. You contacted Beth asking her if there was any hotels around her area to which she responded to telling you, you would be staying with Her and Vivianne. You tried to protest but they made good points. Them being having a place to stay, being looked after by 2 people you know and because they said so. You did feel bad about staying with them as Beth just recovered from her injury and Vivianne only just started to train again.
"I missed the rain" you said looking out the window "Wow you really did hit your head- Ow" you gave a light huff of laughter as you flicked Vivianne's ear making Beth giggle as you felt the car pull to a stop. You shake your head with a little smirk as you looked at you reflection in the window. Looking at the scar on your head. Lightly touching it
"Honey we're home" She said turning to Vivi with a grin leading you and Vivi to roll your eyes.
As you drop your stuff in the living room, Vivi switched on the tv and sat down whilst Beth showed you around the place. She would lead you to the guest room, A nice room with a window and a cozy looking bed. You dropped your bags into the corner and place your phone on charged as Beth got your suitcase and put it in the room. "Thanks Beth, you didn't have too" you said sitting down on the bed feeling the soft material of the bed cover.
"Are you sure you are okay Y/N?" you hear Beth say in a concerned voice. You were a thrown off by the tone of her voice, You never heard her speak in that tone before as she closed the door behind her. You sighed. "I'm fine"
"F/N" Beth would say as she sat next to you "What happened that night, its clear it has affected you. It would fuck up anyone going through that" you looked down, you would then feel her hand on your shoulder. "I know you have been ignoring their calls and messages" you let out a shaky breath as, Kiera, Lucy and Bright's faces flashed before your eyes. The night replaying in your head as you touched the scar that was healed but visible. You felt Beth pull you towards her and rested her chin on the back of your shoulder as she rubbed your back again. You breathed and began to speak
"Its just been hard Beth, I just freeze. I want to talk to them but at the same time I don't. And every time I think of them I just see it all over..." You felt tears coming through and you voice breaking "all over again. and then." Anger started to build "I just feeling this hatred in me. I start to 𝙃𝙖𝙩𝙚 them for what they did." Beth would frown sadly, she was thrown off by the tone of your voice "Kiera treating me like that!?, Lucy treating me like some thug and............𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩" Beth eyes widened at the venom from your voice and also calling Millie by her last name before cupping your face to look at her "Listen to me Y/N. Do not let emotions take over your mind, you are better then that. What happened as happened. You are here with me and Vi, You are safe, All patched up and moving like before. Remember what you always say? Always look on the bright side of life right?" You felt the anger go away replaced with sad emotions as you nodded to Beth as she would embrace you and you would hug back tightly. Unknown to you Vivi was listening and felt her heart break at your confession of anger and what you must be going through. You were never a hateful person, you always were respectful to others and wore your heart on your sleeve. Worry would build in her as she the North West London Derby was tomorrow, you would be going to watch and then stay at Kirby's house. The worry wasn't on that. It was on what happens if you and Bright cross paths at Stamford Bridge that worried the Dutch striker.
The day would turn into a day of banter and laughs as you guys enjoyed a night of eating and watching tv before turning to bed for the night hoping to get as much rest as you could before the long day tomorrow.
*Crowd cheers*
Your ears perked up at the sudden noise, looking away from your phone you looked to the screen to see your face on with a nameplate saying "F/N L/N. Former Chelsea player. FA CUP and WSL winner" You smiled and waved at the camera recording you as the crowd started to chant
"WE LOVE YOU L/N WE DO, WE LOVE YOU L/N WE, WE LOVE YOU L/N WE DO, OOH L/N WE LOVE YOU" your heart swirled with love as you couldn't help but laugh and smile at the Chelsea fans antics. It was a big day, The North London Derby at Stamford Bridge. you played in your fair share and it was always an experience.
"L/N can you sign my kids shirts please, we understand if you don't want too. You looked down below you to see a father with his boy and girl with star struck eyes. You grabbed a pen from you pocket as you were always prepared. "THROW THEM UP" you said and the man smiled and throw the shirts up, you grabbed one and missed one leading to the crowd to cheer "WAAAAAAAAAAY" at your disposal, you played up to the antics shaking your head at them in a mock disapproval fashion. The second you would grab the top to the crowd cheering. You sighed the tops and carefully dropped the shirts to the two kids who made you smile and hoped it could inspire them in some way. The crowd clapping at the noble gesture, you smiled before sitting down.
You missed the energy of the crowd and the interactions you had with them
As the day went on both team would come out and the game would kick off. You were watching and analysing the game, you would watch the plays and tactics being used, every time you saw Bright you would look down and scratch your head. The game was intense as it should be in the North West London Derby. The game would end in a eventful 2-1 win to Chelsea.
You left the box and headed towards where Beth and Vivi was going to meet you so you could get your bags. The excitement of the match and crowed leaving your body slowly as you walked down the familiar hall that you used to walk when you were a Chelsea player. You would turn the corner.
"Oof"
"Oh Sorry about th-"
Bright
You just bumped into the one person you wanted to avoid, you felt your voice caught in your throat. Millie looked you up and down like she just saw a ghost. Your heartbeat began to quicken. You felt her eyes burn onto your scar as she starred at it.
"oh Y/N" Bright said like a mother who found their long lost child as she walked towards. You stood still eyes widen and the world slowed down and you felt her strong arms wrap around you and place a hand on the back of your head. Your chest became tight feeling like you were going to suffocate as sweat drew from your palms and head.
Bright buried her face into your shoulder mumbling sorrys and tear making your shoulder wet but it drowned out as thoughts rapidly invaded your mind
S̸͚̒h̵̡̑ë̷̖́ ̶̢̀į̸̛s̸̺̽ ̷̡̓g̶̩͝o̶̺͠i̵̟̕n̴̦̔g̷̲̋ ̵̫̃t̸̺̒o̸̪͝ ̸̢̎ẖ̶͐ǘ̵͇ŕ̷͙t̷̻̀ ̵̢͗y̷̮̋ǫ̶̚u̴̢
D̸̛̻̰͓̐o̵͖̯̰͒n̴̠͠'̸̠̰̍t̴̻̗́̀͜ ̸͉͒͛ṭ̴̳̉̔͘r̵̮̋͠û̷̥͜s̵̹͍̼̄ţ̵͘ ̴̜̪̐h̶̙̍̍e̴͎̍͊̎r̶͖͑̇͠ ̴̡͔̄͠
S̴̯̄h̷̤̓e̷̝͆ ̶̠̊ȅ̸̻n̸̄͜j̸̼̾o̶͎͋y̷̜͠ṡ̶̥ ̸̹̀y̷͊ͅo̷̬̍u̴͉͂ṟ̴̾ ̷̪͐p̸̙̍a̴͕͊ḯ̸̝ṅ̷͉ ̸͇̔
You squeezed your eyes shut trying to not listen to these stupid thoughts. That's not her, you think as your body temperature send hot flashes over your body as you started to hear a ringing noise
You somehow feel your body shake and feel a pair of arms grab you. It was a blur at first but you felt hands on your cheeks. You heard loud noise as the ringing noises continued but it all drowned out as you heard a voice call to you, You were slowly and gently pushed down into a sitting positioning against a wall.
"F/- I - me" You hear the voice start to get cleary
You open your eyes though blurry at first you find yourself looking into the eyes of Beth. "F/N its me Beth, I'm here" You tried to calm down with Beth but it was still there
"ARE YOU STUPID, YOU THINK THEYYOU WOULD WANT YOU AROUND AFTER WHAT YOU DID" The room still spinning you looked towards the voice and saw Vivi push Bright
"DON'T PUSH ME FOCKING BITCH, I HAVE KNOWN THEM LONGER THEN YOU" Bright pushed the Dutch girl nearly off her feet as Beth had to spring into action and stop the two from fighting.
You couldn't take it
Couldn't breath
Couldn't think
Couldn't speak
Couldn't talk
But you could run
You ran from the scene without the trio noticing, The loud shouts disappearing as you got further and further away as the ringing sound came back and you still felt hot, the hallway looking it turned to its sides and back. The world didn't stop spinning. You ran and ran until you felt nauseous and just collapse to your knees and dry heave.
Back in the hallway, Beth realizing that you had disappeared, called out for you, their worry evident in their her voices.
Beth would go on a short rant at both of them before ending it with
"WE ARE FOR F/N, SO ACT LIKE THIER FRIEND AND STOP BEING LIKE CHILDREN!"
The duo looked down in shame. Not only did the always jokester Beth tear them a new one but they caused you distress and made you run away. The two reconciled before they planned the next move, Beth's phone would ping with a message
There you were on all fours
all alone
crying
struggling to breath
dry heaving
why did this happen, why are you so scared, why did this have to be like this. you thought as the tears formed a small puddle in font of you
You felt someone place a hand on your back and filched until you heard the voice
"Breath in" You breathed in at the voices request "1,2,3,4 and out" You let out the shaky breath and felt the nausea go away "In" You breath in "1,2,3,4,5,6,7 and out" You breath out letting the the weight off your shoulders and spinning stop. You would repeat the circle untill your breathing pattern was normal
"There we go" You sat up on your knees slowly and turn to the voice "Thanks Fran" you gave a little smile to your old roommate. She rubbed your back with a smile "No problem, Don't rush yourself. Take your time" She said carefully as she held you hand as you slowly stood up with her. "Its like old times" You said with a sad laugh, You would feel Fran ruffle your hair "Never change F/N" You hugged her and she returned it.
Fran was always the one who supported you throughout your time in Chelsea and was the one would calm you down if things got hard. She became a older sister to you and had a protective nature over you
"When do i get my hug Youngblood?" You turned to see your old teammate "Come ere kerr" You smiled as you opened your arms to the aussie who gave you a big hug "Missed ya F/N" after a embrace. You felt her move a hair out of your face and she looked at your scar "Looking like a warrior Youngblood" You smiled and shrugged "Guess i can finally handle the wild of Australia" Sam eyed rolled before she placed an arm around your shoulder "Come on Fran lets clean up this annoying brat" You chuckled and wrapped your arm around hers as Fran who was on her phone looked up before putting it away and smiling "Lets" as she joined the you two
Beth received a message from Fran about you and decided to send Vivi to collect your bags and bring them to you and Fran.
Beth couldn't help but look at Bright who was in her own world. She could see the regret and pain in Bright's eyes and the burden she carried from that night. Taking Bright's hand in her own, Beth began, "Millie, I know this hasn't been easy on you. It was a traumatic.....fucked up experience for all involved, but especially for F/N."
Bright nodded, her voice shaky as she began to explain. "I just can't get that image out of my head, Beth. Seeing F/N's bloody face... it haunts me. I never wanted to hurt them like that and I didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late." Beth made Bright look at her
"It was an accident. and we all know that you didn't intend for any of this to happen. F/N knows it too." Bright's eyes showed tears "But you saw how they reacted. I just wanted to say sorry. I tried to be calm but I hadn't seen them since that night and they haven't replied to any of my calls and messages. When I saw them I just lost it and went on auto pilot." She looked away shaking her head "I caused all of this"
Beth nodded in understanding. "It's only natural to feel this way Millie. But you also gave to remember that accidents can happen in this game F/N wouldn't want you to carry this burden. They are a strong person and They know deep down inside knows you didn't mean to hurt them." Beth pit a reassuring hand on Bright's back
Millie let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she tried to release some of the weight she had been carrying. "I hope you're right Beth. I just need to find a way to move past this and support F/N by giving them time."
Beth smiled warmly, appreciating Millie's willingness to make this right. "You will, Millie. We all will. F/N is our friend and they needs us right now. Let's give em the time and space to heal, physically and emotionally aye?" You hugged Vivi goodbye as you turned to enter Frans car. You breathed in and out relaxing into the seat as fran blasted the heater on making it all warm and cosy. As you pulled out the parking lot, You looked at the stadium with a smile thinking of the memories, Winning the league, All the goals scored, the times with teammates. Time with Bright. *Beep Beep* You look to Fran's side of the car and look at the car that beeped to see a wild Sam Kerr and Erin waving goodbye in their own car. You and Fran waved before you showed a middle finger only to receive one from the Scotswomen. You missed the antics you guys would have. Fran would drive away from the trio "McDonalds or KFC?" "Hmmm" You pondered, knowing you and Fran gonna have a good night as Sam promised to come stay over at Frans also. "I am gonna pick......." Meanwhile Beth sat in her car waiting for Vivi starring at a contact in her phone. She was in deep thought before the door open to reveal Vivi. She put her phone away and gave her a quick peck waiting for Vivi to get the seatbelt on. As she would drove she couldn't help but wonder if she made the right move just moments ago. Was the message she sent the right move Was it right to warn Lucy and Kiera of how you might react when you meet them back in Barcelona? Part 3 End Well you gotta find out in the next part MWAHAHAHAHAH Honestly I am so surprised on how this series is doing and the amount of reader liking it. I hope this lives up to your expectations. i will try my best for the future parts As always please tell me what you think, what is your fav part of the story, fav person we have met so far, what do you think is gonna happen now that Beth has warned Wonze
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olenvasynyt · 30 days
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Similarities and Differences between Lucien and Azriel
Alright...Elriel vs Elucien.  And I am aware that this is a topic: this fanbase has very strong opinions!  I have strong opinions myself ofc.  But I am going to suppress my own personal biases and look at these characters from a logical, unbiased perspective.  And I’m not really going to talk about evidence that proves one ship is canon or anything like that, I actually will barely talk about Elain at all.  
I want to point out the similarities and differences between Az and Lucien because I think these will definitely come into play in the next ACOTAR book since it will most likely be Elain’s book and this ship war is probably going to be addressed (at least I hope)
Similarities:
Prominent Scars
Both have scars which is rare for High Fae, and the way they got these scars is very prevalent to their backstory.
2. Knowledgeable spies
They are both intelligent and sly and know a lot about Prythian because they’re both spies, Lucien was considered Tamlin’s spy / emissary.  They both seem to keep a lot of secrets even from the people they’re close to.
3. Childhood
Their history are similar.  Both were tortured by their fathers and brothers.  Their mothers might have been used against them in their youth to control them (Mommy issues for sure)
4. Found Family
They were taken in by their friends after a really traumatic experience—Rhys and Rhys’ mother took Az in, Tamlin took Lucien in.  And they developed a very strong loyalty to Rhys and Tamlin perspectively as their high lords but also their best friends.
5. Loyal but still speak out often against their HL
And both of them still say the issues they have with their High Lords.  Az is more confident with Rhys while Lucien is a lot more cautious with Tamlin especially after UTM and for good reason. 
6. Defending their loved ones
And they both have their moments of rash defensiveness, like Az choking Eris at the High Lord’s meeting when he insults Mor, and Lucien telling Amarantha to “go back to the shithole she crawled out of” in the first book.
7. Insecurity
And it’s hard to understand them because we barely got POVs from either but they both seem really insecure with themselves.  Az seems to think of himself as a monster he avoids looking at his scarred hands.  And Lucien blames himself for a lot of stuff, one of the most important things imo, Jesminda’s death.  It seems like they avoid a lot of parts of themselves.
8. Elain
And one of tne of the most important in this shipwar situation that makes them similar imo—that I never see anyone talking about—are the conversations they have with Feyre and Rhys perspectively.  In the Autumn Court Feyre and Lucien have a fight about Elain and the Night Court, and Feyre says that he is only tagging along “just so he can get what he thinks he’s owed,” referring to Elain his mate.  This is very reminiscent of what Rhys asks Az in the bonus chapter, “you believe you deserve to be her mate?”
And both of them don’t directly answer and say they think they’re deserving in fact they both address their mistrust/dislike: Lucien answers, “my mate is in my enemy’s hands” and Az says “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her.”
They are both very conflicted when it comes to Elain. Az is attracted to her to the point of infatuation, and he’s stuck on this idea of having love because both of his brothers found love and a mate but he hasn’t.  But being with Elain is forbidden and he kind of realizes he doesn’t have a plan laid out.  He knows all of this is wrong and kind of seems to think he knows he’s being irrational.
And Lucien has the mating bond and all of the emotions and attractions that come with that but he is sick of getting hurt.
He’s still thinking about Jesminda it seems like and he thought she was his mate so he’s already comparing the two females.  
And he also sees that Elain is not into it plus he feels like he’s being forced into it himself.
And I really think the differences between the two will come into play as well, and are probably more important when it comes to Elain and how both of these two males interact with Elain at this current moment in time.
Differences:
`1. Light / dark powers
The most obvious difference is their powers; Lucien has the power of the Day court and Autumn, so light and fire which is the exact opposite of Az’s cold shadow powers. A lot of people use that difference as evidence towards Elucien or Elriel being the next relationship.  But as I said before I just want to point out some other differences that aren’t about each of the two males’ potential with Elain but rather just a character analysis. 
2. Honor, heroism, and helplessness
Az is very much a white knight. He is a savior, a rescuer.  He has a reputation for saving females, including Mor, Gwyn, and Elain.  He kind of has a hero complex in a way at least from how I view it, mainly bc the reason for a lot of these complexes is the desire for affirmation, validation and a sense of purpose, which I think has Az written all over it.
Also, a hero complex isn’t all about rescue and “damsels in distress”.  It is all of these other things:
good at saving people, very perceptive and sympathetic
A need for validation
dismissing their own needs and neglecting self-care
difficulty accepting help
feeling overwhelmed and drained
emotional and psychological burnout
low self-esteem
resentment
fear of abandonment and rejection
guilt over perceived mistakes
issues with overstepping boundaries
I'll make another post about it but I think it's an important.
You can try to analyze this from a psychological viewpoint, like Az was abused and suppressed when he was young, he was locked away and could not help his mother until he was empowered by his Illyrian heritage and shadowsinger abilities and got out of his father’s imprisonment.  A lot of these rescues are because of this job but Az seems like the person who is honorable and would help these females anyway, even if his high lord didn’t blatantly order him.
Lucien has a similar history: he also didn’t have power over his father or brothers, he was helpless when it came to helping his mother. But he reacts differently to this trauma.  He is a lot more helpless. 
Lucien is a gentlemen and very good hearted, and again, he can be rash and he does defend his loved ones, (helping Feyre UTM, going to find Vassa and get help from the other fae territories) but most of the time he is very careful with the moves he makes.  And I don’t want to say he’s selfish because he has done plenty of very selfless things, but sometimes his trauma really drives his decision making.  You can see this with Tamlin in ACOMAF: he tried to help he tries to stand up to Tamlin a few times, but imo his trauma from Beron and seeing his mother being abused really influenced his actions and made him cautious.
3. Trauma from losing loved ones
There is a key quote from Lucien and Feyre’s conversation in the Autumn Court which really just defines how Lucien interacts with people especially Elain.   Lucien was saying he wants to see Elain “just once.  Just—to know.” And Feyre asks him “to know what” and he says “if she’s worth fighting for.” (Chapter 12 Page 114 ACOWAR)
I remember reading that for the first time as someone who fell in love with Lucien from the moment I met him and being like… “ooh 😐 damn.  That’s a little selfish lulu why aren’t you trying harder.” 
And in the bonus chapter, Az says to Rhys that he doesn’t think that Lucian deserves Elain as a mate because he probably just sees Lucien as a coward, he sees how Lucien interacts cautiously around Elain and he’s probably sees him as a coward. He’s frustrated and he doesn’t understand why Lucien is so cautious with his mate because he doesn’t know his history and trauma. 
Lucien is sick of losing people.  He has lost so many of his loved ones.  He has lost Jesminda, he technically lost his mother because most likely hasn’t been allowed to speak to her in centuries.  He’s lost Andras, and he just recently lost Tamlin.  He lost his eye which isn’t a person but it’s a loss still.
Jesminda seems to influence a lot of his decisions when it comes to Elain.  He does not talk about her a lot but in a way he does, you can tell he thinks about her constantly, even if it may have been hundreds of years.
Lucien was expecting a mating bond to snap with her.  He thought that his mate was murdered. 
And he seems very selfish in this conversation with Feyre but it totally makes sense why he said he wants to see if Elain is worth it.  He is sick of losing people.  He’s just like… “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
4. A supportive network
Azriel has had his own losses but he has a lot of people around him.  He’s got all of the inner circle who have supported him and loved him for centuries.  His mother is also alive and there are hints that he goes and visits her.
I think Lucien has a supportive network now with the Band of Exiles, but he lost so many friends and loved ones and allies along the way. He is constantly moving around, loving his spot and finding another one, while Az got a very stable home.
5. Revenge and serving justice
And another thing is, revenge.  Az has a lot more of a need for revenge it seems like.  He wants justice to be served.
When he got out from his step-brother and father’s imprisonment, Rhys isays that what he did to them was so horrible that he struggled looking at him for a while after.  And Az really wants to kill Eris for what he did to Mor, and the only reasons why he holds back are because he believes Mor is more deserving of that revenge and because of his High Lord and High Lady since Eris is a very important ally to the night court right now.
Lucien doesn’t seem to think about justice being served.  Justice has never been served in his life and he thinks it never will.  
He doesn’t seem to have a need for revenge.  He was rude to Feyre in ACOTAR in the beginning which was totally reasonable btw. She murdered and skinned his best friend of course his reaction is bitter hate.  Plus he was losing a lot of hope with the curse.  But he kind of got over it pretty well and Feyre became friends.
And in ACOWAR he encounters his brothers—who tortured him in his youth and held him down and forced him to watch his lover butchered, and also rooted for his torture UTM.  And we don’t really see any need to get his revenge for any of that.  Power came into play in the ACOWAR winter court situation bc him and Feyre were overpowered so they ran instead and that makes sense.
6. Running 
Lucien has a habit of avoiding problems.  He and Feyre ran in Winter (I know their powers were low but still), he ran from Autumn to Spring after Jesminda, he ran from Elain in a way to go help find Vassa.  In ACOFAS when he and Feyre fight on the winter solstice, he left instead of staying.  He just doesn’t want to invest because again, he’s sick of getting hurt.
And maybe not all the time but sometimes Az seems like he runs ahead with his eyes closed.  He bottles up his feelings but he explodes sometimes when he gets too invested, like with Mor and Eris and with Elain in the bonus chapter.
Comparing these two characters is pretty important in the future books, since we will get POVs from both, discover more of their story, and see how this whole shipwar thing ends up.
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ladykailitha · 1 year
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Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 8
Here we get Eddie side of the story mixed with a bit of what happened to Steve. I traded bats for a ruptured appendix and died for almost.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  
*
Eddie got to his apartment and called Chrissy. It was time for that long talk.
Chrissy arrived with beer and ice cream. She flopped on the sofa and handed him the first beer.
“So you going to finally tell me why you hate Garnet?” she asked, popping open her own beer.
Eddie sighed and settled next to her with two spoons. He handed one to her and dug into the ice cream. “First off, you’re going have to know his real name, because context is key.”
Chrissy shrugged. “I had a feeling they all knew each other before you told me you went to high school with them. I don’t think Diamond realized. I think he just assumes that they have been working together for so long that they just work well together.”
Eddie closed his eyes tightly and opened them slowly. “His name is Steve Harrington and I’ve never hated him.”
Chrissy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Eddie, you seemed pretty hostile to me.”
Eddie took a swig of his beer and leaned back against the cushions. “Yeah, well. In high school he was everything. You know the type. Beautiful, athletic, rich, popular, sweet as honey. Everyone had a crush on this dude.”
She grinned, dimpling her cheeks. “So like me!”
Eddie laughed and kissed her forehead. “I do have a type, sweetheart.”
“Good taste,” she said with a wink. “I approve. Go on.”
“He was everything,” he murmured. “And then after I came back from an acute case of appendicitis everything had changed. He suddenly wasn’t the top of the food chain. He was closed off, withdrawn. Almost angry.” He frowned recalling how everyone just seemed to avoid Steve like he was the plague.
“And then,” Eddie continued, “about a year or so after I finally graduated. I see him in this tight light blue polo shirt and he’s soaking wet, like someone dumped water on him or something.” He cleared his throat. “He was sitting there just shivering. So I go over there and ask if he needs help. He doesn’t even look up, so I reach out and touch his shoulder to try and get his attention.”
Eddie squeezed his eyes closed again, fighting back the tears. “And he hits me. He hits me so hard I have to go the fucking hospital.”
Chrissy put down her beer and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Eddie! I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
Eddie curled up into a ball, beginning to sob. “Hunt the freak, you know? So he hates me enough to lash out and seriously hurt me. So I’ve trading barbs with him to keep him at a distance. To keep myself from getting hurt again. Maybe not physically this time. But hurt nonetheless.”
“So what changed?” she whispered into his hair. “Why tell me this now?”
“I was on my way home when I saw Robin...eh, Pearl to you, crouching down next to Steve as he rocked back and forth clutching his hair.”
Chrissy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, was he okay?”
Eddie struggled to get up, so she let him. “He was having a panic attack. Apparently he has these nasty scars on his back. Like really ugly rug burns, but way worse. And when it started raining the white shirt turned translucent.”
“And he was panicking about people being able to see them?” she asked gently.
Eddie nodded. “He dissociates and can get violent. He only has a vague recollection of these things. I looked it up and sometimes they don’t remember anything at all.”
Chrissy sagged. “Oh shit. He doesn’t know he hit you, does he?”
Eddie shook his head. “I’m sure Robin’s gonna tell him. But yeah. Everything I’ve known, everything I’ve held close to my chest for so long, nursing that ache. Sharpening knives on the wound, letting it bleed and fester has been a lie.”
“No, baby,” she whispered. “No. How were you to know? How would have anyone known?”
He let out a shuddering breath. “Apparently the entire fucking country knows according to Robin.”
Chrissy cocked her head to the side and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She said that what happened to him was on the news for a long time,” he explained.
She pulled out her phone and began typing. “Holy fucking shit.”
Eddie tried to look at her phone but she pulled away from him. “What?”
She gulped and turned to him slowly. “I thought the name Steve Harrington sounded familiar. Drink the rest of that beer, babe. You’re going to need it.”
Eddie took a long sip of his beer, eyeing her warily. He held up the bottle to show that it was empty and set it down. “All right, spill. What the fuck is horrifying that I need to be drunk for it?”
She turned the phone over and Eddie got up and personal shots of the scars on Steve’s back when they were road rash. There were also close up shots of a ring like wound around his neck. The neck one looked worse than the road burn.
“What the fuck happened?” he choked out.
Chrissy took her phone back and set it on the coffee table. “I’m going to tell you what I heard and remember and then later you can look up news articles and TV spots. Later because I don’t think I can take hearing it again. Because Eddie? It was entirely fucked up.”
Eddie looked at her with tears in his eyes. “How fucked up are we talking about?”
“Like got the Feds involved, hate crime levels of fucked up,” she said darkly. “And you have to understand this all from news reports and stuff. I wasn’t there, you’d have to ask Steve or Robin...” she paused. “It feels weird to call them by their real names. Because she was involved, too.”
“What happened?” he asked, barely holding back the tears.
“Prom king, captain of the basketball team, co-captain of the swim team was tied up and dragged behind the motorcycle of a rival at school because he stepped in between him and a girl who was be bullied for being gay.”
“What?!” Eddie squawked. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
Chrissy shook her head. “That’s how the story goes anyway. And if Garnet is Steve Harrington like you say he is, then fuck. His dad didn’t just kick him out for being gay. His dad beat him and threw him out the second he turned eighteen. It was part of the big scandal. He went to go stay with Robin’s family until he graduated high school.”
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “And all this happened when?”
Chrissy rubbed her lip thoughtfully. “When were you in the hospital?”
Eddie sat back and really had to think. “It would have been after the middle school’s Snow Ball, because me and the boys played. But before Christmas? I vaguely remember having to go back to school for a couple days before winter break.”
She nodded. “That tracks. While you were in the hospital with acute appendicitis Steve was getting the shit beaten out of him by a raging homophobe and his dad.” She paused for a moment and tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “Who is also a raging homophobe.”
Eddie tilted his head back and sighed. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to hold back his tears. After a few moments, he lowered his head and looked Chrissy in the eye. “I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?”
Chrissy leaned over and took his face gently in her hands. “You listen to me Edmund Joseph Munson. You did not fuck up. You protected yourself with the information you had. You only fuck up if you continue to be an ass.”
He let out a shuddered breath. “I don’t know what to do now. How to act, what to say.”
She pulled him to her chest. “Apologizing and explaining is the best place to start.”
He nodded and let the tears flow, sobbing into her shoulder as he was racked with shame and guilt.
*
Steve woke up to a somber Robin and jacket he knew better than his own. Eddie’s leather jacket, the one he always wore.
She sat him down and explained what happened last night. And he sat through it all, numb.
“Oh.”
He didn’t know what else to say. What could he say? Eddie’s reason for hating him was valid.
“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Steve rubbed the soft leather of the jacket between his fingers. “I wouldn’t even know how to make it up to him.”
Robin tilted her head, her expression fond. “I know movies tell you to go big when making it up to people. But I’ve found people are more likely to be embarrassed by that shit. So start small, and keep being repentant. Just know, he doesn’t have to forgive you. He might never.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Robs.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re the best friend a guy could have.”
She smiled. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Never.”
*
Steve got to class and sat nervously in his spot, his knee jerking wildly, tapping his foot against the rung of the stool. And then Eddie walked in wearing a soft grey hoodie with a denim vest over top of it.
Steve gulped. Eddie looked good. He grabbed the jacket from his bag and hurried up to him.
“Hey,” he greeted shyly.
Eddie turned to him, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Um...thanks for the jacket.” Steve held out the jacket at arm’s length, trying so hard not to squeeze his eyes to brace against Eddie’s forthcoming attack.
Eddie took the jacket gently from Steve’s grasp. “Hey, it was the least I could do since I couldn’t do anything else.”
Steve hung his head. “Yeah. I should see a therapist to at least getting better coping strategies but that requires money and health insurance. Two things that are a little thin on the ground right now.”
Eddie’s shouldered sagged, he put his other hand on Steve’s bicep. “Hey, PTSD is inevitable after what you went through. I’m just sorry I didn’t know until now.”
Steve lifted his head, furrowing his brow. “That’s what Robin said. But I don’t understand how.”
Eddie pursed his lips and gave Steve’s arm a squeeze before letting go. “Just before all that...” he waved his hand in vague gesture, “shit happened to you, I was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. The doctors tell me it was touch and go for awhile. I almost died.”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. Oh my god. That’s horrible.”
Around them the class had filled up and Joyce was moving to the center of the room. The class was about to start.
Eddie looked around. “Look, can we talk after class?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, man. I’d like that. A lot.”
Eddie smiled, sweet, but small. “I’ll see you then.”
Steve smiled back and went to sit down. Today they were starting full nudity before the final. Get them used to the naked form.
Steve blushed a deep red when Eddie stepped out from behind the partition who used to get undressed and Eddie raised a cocky eyebrow.
This was going to be a long three hours.
Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue
Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428
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northernstvr · 3 months
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I’m Yours
Chap.1 Chap.2 Chap.3
“You’re so pretty it hurts.”
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader
Summary: Remus and sirius are a popular Guitarist and vocalist in the ‘Marauders’ a rising band starting out in london.
Warnings: My writing, Modern/Muggle AU, Band AU, aged up, might be a few parts; Slow burn?, Alcohol mentioned.
Your friend had dragged you to this ‘exclusive VIP concert’ as her plus one, she works as a bartender for the bar you both are currently going to. “What’s so special about this…’band’?” you mumbled, bored and tired of the long walk to the bar. “this ‘BAND’ is being sold out everywhere! and the bar is hosting them for their own private concert to thank the staff!” you rolled my eyes as you finally arrived. “Tickets and work ID?” the bouncer asked as your friend rummaged through her purse “she found her ID, and the two tickets needed, Showing the bouncer your ID you followed closely behind your friend “oh- i think we arrived early.” she muttered, and you mentally cursed her out and groaned “of course we are.” you muttered through gritted teeth “sorry- must’ve read the time wrong-“ i sighed and just smiled “it’s fine.” the band was busy setting up on stage, not expecting anyone to arrive for another 2 hours. “hey girls” a long haired boy popped up behind you both, his dark black hair framed his face, complimenting his outfit which showed off his tall and lean build, “OMG!! you’re sirius black!” she squealed and squeezed your arm as you just stood there clueless. “that i am, darling.” he winked and your friend damn near fainted. “Scarlet- calm down.” you huffed as she was practically jumping up and down in your arms “You dont seem to excited to see me, doll face.” he grinned and you smiled awkwardly, “i don’t know who you guys are. Should i?” you mumbled out, a little unsure of what to actually tell this ‘sirius black’ who has your friend fainting at his voice. His eyes widening at your response but he just grinned “After the concert..” he rummaged through the pocket of his low waisted jeans and pulled out 2 wristbands. “here.” he took your friends scarlets wrist, who went back into a coma, then taking your wrist and placed the bands around them, holding your arm a little longer than necessary. “meet us backstage after the concert, i trust you know where that is darling?” he looked towards scarlet who feverishly nodded. “for now, you both can watch us set up.” he winked and waltzed back over to the stage, setting up the drums and guitars “oh my god” Scarlet repeated over and over again. “what?” she squealed, “he touched my wrist!!” she whisper screamed at you. “are they that big of a deal?” you frowned slightly, he seemed shocked that you didn’t know who they were, but, you were a homebody, and you religiously listened to the same music and rarely ever changed what genre it was. “yes they are!! and and! we just met the main vocalist!” she smiled brightly and you just gave her a weak nod and smile, “can we go find us a place to sit?” she grinned and nodded, dragging you to a corner of the bar, a table for 2 people in the corner, kinda far back but you could still see the band well, and it wasn’t in the middle of any of the future bar lines. “stay here! i’m going to the bathroom” she announced and then was gone in seconds. huffing you took a seat and just scrolled mindlessly on your phone till people started to pile into the small bar. hearing a whistle you looked up to notice the male you’d both been speaking to earlier, sirius black? Looking up towards his direction he winked at you, or your sure it was at you, before a sandy haired with a bunch of scars on his face called his name and pulled his focus back to the band. “back- what did i miss?” scarlet smiled brightly “nothin’ they’re about to start i think.” you smiled and she grinned as the bar finally filled up, it would be hard to see you both far way in the back but, you could’ve sworn sirius winked to you every chance he got. The music was loud, but good, you could sirius’ voice through the speakers until another voice came on and joined him ‘james potter-‘ you’re friend smiled and pointed out the rest of the ‘marauders’ and who was playing what. Remus Lupin, the taller male playing guitar, Peter pettigrew, the shorter boy on the drums, and Of course, sirius black and james potter. “Got them all down?” your friend smiled at you while you just nodded.
Getting up to make your way through the crowd, trying to find a short line to get a drink you finally managed to get to a bartender serving that night. “could i get a Vodka Lemonade?” the bartender smiled at you and you both made some small talk, the music seemingly got louder but, you didn’t pay much attention to the way the drummer and lead vocalists eyes were on you.
“Listen to me moons, i’m telling you, she’s perfect!” sirius rambled on about meeting you while he and the other young star got dressed “love, i haven’t even met her yet, let me meet her and then..we’ll try. Okay?” he smiled as he grabbed his waist, “right moons.” remus chuckled as he leaned down to capture his boyfriends lips in a passionate kiss.
The Bartender had to get back to work so you smiled softly at him and took your Vodka lemonade and went back to sit down with your friend. “he was so flirting with you.” she announced, clear as day, loudly as possible. “right.” you scoffed. “As if anyone would want to flirt- let alone get with me.” you giggled and scarlet rolled her eyes.
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stunnedgorilla · 5 months
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Ofmd season 2 episode 6 spoilers!!
The way they showed Ed and Stede's first time was so interesting to me. First of all, it happened directly after Stede killed someone for the first time, so automatically, Stede was in a very strange and vulnerable headspace. And that's not to say he was taken advantage of--he very much initiated it--but it happened while both of their identities were up in the air. Stede was adjusting to being an *actual* killer, while Ed had just apologized earlier for shooting Izzys leg.
And then we see Ed sitting on the bed, still fully clothed in leather while a shirtless Stede closes the curtains. And what interests me the most is that we don't even see his face. All we see is Ed looking up from the bed, and Stede looming close to the camera, mirroring the way that Blackbeard was first introduced to the show--facing away from the camera and smoking a pipe, obscured with power and mystery. The fact that their first time co-occurred with such a dramatic shift in dynamics is a little concerning but I have total faith that they will *eventually* talk their shit out).
I don't fully believe Ed when he said that night was a mistake. I do believe he has commitment issues like a bitch, and when Stede started to become more like him, he got scared. We can see him pulling away, sitting in the corner of Spanish Jackie's as Stede revels in his infamy. He wants to truly make amends to the people he's hurt and traumatized, and he can't do that if he's with someone who's drinking, and making people walk the plank, and lighting people on fire.
And it's not because Stede is evil--sure he's a bitch, and occasionally ends a life or two, but that's not who he truly is--its who he's trying to be. A murderer, not a bitch--cause he is a bitch, but he's trying to be a murderer, because his whole life he's been bullied and mocked for not being manly enough. For not being a good husband, for being sensitive and soft, and well, gay. And Ed doesn't understand that this is why he wants to be like him, like Blackbeard (because they haven't fucking talked about it), because for Ed, being Blackbeard ruined his life. It nearly ended it (and others) and he doesn't want Stede to fall down the same path.
So yeah, Ed decides to become a fisherman, because like he said, he has no idea who he is. He still has so much healing to do, so many wrongs to right, and it's just so fucking tragic that now is the time when they need each other the most, but they're moving so rapidly in opposite directions, and neither of them know how to communicate it.
I think Anne and Mary were right--they are fucking 14 year old boys. I mean, Stede literally called Ed a coward for leaving instead of chasing after him. But they're not going to turn out like them. Ed and Stede are going to grow up, and they're going to talk, and they're going to heal each other's scars instead of causing each other more. They're going to learn how to commit to each other and stay even when things get hard or scary. (David Jenkins please for the love of all that is holy let them better each other and also fuck again but after they come to terms with who they are and want to be)
Edit: actually, hot take, but I think them having sex actually was a mistake. And yeah, Ed left instead of talking about it, but still. Their relationship is still so new and unstable, and I wish they waited until they were in a more grounded place. I wish they would have reckoned with their opposing paths before doing something so intimate and vulnerable, but I have a feeling they're going to reckon with it by the end of the season.
Ed asked Stede to go slow for a reason. And yeah, they both consented, which is more important than anything, but damn, it happened so fucking fast. I mean, they are gay, so. (David Jenkins I am in your walls please make Ed and Stede practice healthy sexuality and communicate about their life goals so they can prevent further miscommunication and heartbreak)
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downstarr · 1 month
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The Consort (complete)
The Consort (11364 words) by downstar Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Balin (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Gentleness Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin Summary: After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings? --- This fic carries on in continuity from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together.
Excerpt:
One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest. 
Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.” 
“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.
Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body. 
Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”
Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it. 
Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body. 
Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”
Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.” 
“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light. 
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 2
Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc
read chapter 1 here
warnings | 18+ angst, canon-typical violence
a/n | A shorter chapter. Still very much in the exposition but we learn a little more about our girl!
“I’m like Ellie.”
Those are the words that keep replaying in Joel’s mind. Her words. That, and the image of her mottled back, the grave scars and the swirling black ink on top of them. They've made it back to town, only after promising she'd talk to him later that night, so long as he kept her secret. He had asked her who else knew and she had told him only Tommy and Maria and the men you came to Jackson with. Suddenly she wasn't so cold, practically begging him not to tell anyone. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had been on the verge of tears.
He’s supposed to go to her house tonight, to get some more answers. He feels like his head is spinning because suddenly, there’s another person like Ellie. Someone else immune. He understands why she wants this kept secret. It’s the same reason he feels the pull to protect Ellie. She's valuable, and that makes her dangerous. 
He gets to her house late, already dark out. The curtains are shut but faint light seeps out along the edges. She lives with Alex and Steve, and it’s one of the two who answer the door when he knocks, although Joel can’t be sure which.
“Miller, what can I help you with?” The young man crosses his arms over his chest, making himself a little bigger, a little grimmer. He’s the one that can sometimes coax you down to the bar in town, Joel’s seen him even pull a smile out of you. 
“He’s here to talk with me, Steve, it’s alright.” She comes up behind her companion, squeezing his shoulder. The two of them share a look before Steve steps back, sulking back into the house.
“I didn’t realize he was your bodyguard.” She snorts at that, shrugging her shoulder to invite him in. “He means well.”
“Where’s the other one?” She tells him that Alex is on patrol tonight, letting him follow her down the hall to what he assumes is her room. She closes the door behind him. It’s sparse, a mattress on the floor, an old wicker rocking chair, and a few stacks of clothes. What draws his attention are the stacks of books next to her bed. She must have been picking those up for ages to have so many collected. 
She sits at the end of your bed and motions for him to sit in the chair. “Well, I told you I’d give you answers. So start asking questions.”
“Where’d you get all that ink?”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Joel huffs. He’s not really sure where to start, that’s just the first thing that came out.
She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. “Alex, he was an artist before – well, before. When I met him he had a gun made out of an old sewing machine motor, making his own ink out of ash and witch hazel. I’d let him practice on me. Figured anything would be better than what was already there.”
Quiet descends again. Joel wracks his brain, trying to find some thread of sanity, what to ask her next.
“That doesn’t sound real safe,” she fully laughs at that, pressing her palms into her thighs to stand up. “Look, if you just came to ask me questions about my tattoos, this conversation can be over right now and I can be out of here by tomorrow morning and no one has to know anything.”
“Listen, I’m trying to figure this all out too. I’m still having a hard time believing what I saw, what you told me. But I don’t see why you’re getting ready to fly the fucking coop. You got a good thing going here.”
Joel’s up on his feet and suddenly they're both in each other’s faces.
“Yeah, I do have a good thing going here, and I think you know better than most what a secret like mine can do to a good thing. I’m not gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat, do you understand?” Joel swallows, “another?”
“What?”
“You said you weren’t gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat. Is that what all those bites are from?” Joel doesn’t need an answer, he’s already got it in the way she shrinks back, gaze skittering to the ground. Something in him twinges at that.
“Does Ellie know about you?” She looks up at him again, shaking her head.
“I told you already. Only Alex, Steve, Tommy, and Maria know. And now, unfortunately, you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, letting out a long exhale.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone, you know. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Joel tries to sound genuine, but feels like he ends up coming off like a dope. “For some reason I’m inclined to believe you.” She sits back down on the edge of her bed, Joel leans back against the wall.
“Is that why you go out on those raids?” She looks up at him, questioning. “You’re immune. Feel like you can go out and play hero or somethin’?” She prickles at that, hardening her eyes into a glare.
“Hardly. I just need to get away from all this. It’s good. But it’s not real. Out there? That’s what’s real.” She's looking down at her hands, mumbling out the last of it. It’s quiet for a moment. Joel can understand that. That feeling like everything’s gonna fall out from under you eventually, because it always has, and you have to be ready for that inevitable plummet.
He studies her for a moment. The slope of her nose, her eyelashes falling over the tops of her cheeks. He thinks to himself that she would’ve been pretty, back before. Now, she's something else entirely, something that makes his breath kick in a way he’d be hard pressed to admit.
“You got any other questions?”
“Is Steve your – your man?” That one draws a laugh out of her that makes Joel reel. “You really ask the dumbest shit, you know that?” He hardly hears what she says, too focused on the waft of a smile across her face.
“I don’t have a man, Joel Miller. Just really important friends.” With that, she stands up, tilting her head as if to say are we done here? “So you’re gonna keep my secret?”
He nods, “you don’t have to worry about it, I will.”
She lets out another long sigh, opening her door and walking him back to her porch. As Joel’s walking out, he turns on his heel, “can I ask you one more thing?” She looks at him, expectantly.
“Why does everyone around here call you the saint?” 
“You’re out of questions. Good night, Joel.”
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in-death-we-fall · 1 year
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A New Beginning
A year ago when Terrorizer spoke to Joey Jordison, the drummer was a man of (sic) the edge. Now the Slipknot founder is in a different headspace and facing the future with heady determination.
Words: Tobyn Dorcian  Pics: Kane Hibberd Terrorizer #224, July 2012 (google docs link)
**self harm warning for questions 4 and 5 and image 4**
When Joey Jordison was in Australia in March 2011, he was a wreck. Ten months afterPaul (sic) Gray, Joey’s best friend and fellow Slipknot originator/bassist had died from a drugs (sic) overdose, and the drummer was psychologically frail. To distract from his grief, Jordison had over-committed to Soundwave festival as both guitarist in the Murderdolls and drummer for Rob Zombie – exhaustion led to him cancel (sic) a Sydney show.
A year on, Jordison is the antithesis of that vision. Once again in Australia, this time with Slipknot for their 7pm slot at Soundwave festival, he is chipper and energetic. Near unrecognisable with a bush ranger-like beard and moustache, the 37-year-old is in such a great mood he insists on doing two interviews: one at 6.30pm prior to Slipknot’s Melbourne arena sideshow, and another at 11.40pm at its conclusion.
How has the past 12 months been for you? “Very positive. I’m happier than I’ve been for a long time.”
The death of best friend and Slipknot bassist Paul Gray had put you in a bad place. What’s helped you to move forward? “I went right into the studio. I’ve been working non-stop, pouring all my energy into writing music, and nothing but good results have come from it. I am happy being (sic) the studio and am working on music because that’s my life-blood. We all have deaths in our family but you have to move on. [Pauses] It’s really hard for me to talk about Paul’s death…”
Do you ever feel Paul’s presence? “Oh yeah. I’ve been writing stuff since his death and he’s with me at all times. I will be sitting writing a riff, and I know the exact part where he is coming in. I almost talk to him, in a weird way.”
** As a tribute to Paul, Corey [Taylor, vocalist] got a tattoo of him on his leg. “I don’t have any tattoos but I have this. [Rolls up his left shirtsleeve to reveal two several inch-long scars on his shoulder]. After he died, I cut two lines [Paul Gray was Slipknot number 2] into my arm. He remains on my snare hand.”
** What do the lines represent? “That he’s with me at all times. I will never have tattoos, ever. I don’t put ink in my body. I am the only one in the band that doesn’t have them. I don’t want anyone putting my memory into my body but me. This will never go away. When I did it it cut pretty deep. Now, he is playing with me at all times.”
You have spoken about your life in Iowa, that you live in isolation. In your house there are no clocks, the windows are blacked out and you rarely answer the phone. To what extent has that changed? “I now have three cats: Mokey, Melvin and Murray [previously, Joey had Mokey], but nothing has changed. That part of me will always remain the same. It [that feeling] is even happening right now. When I walk out of this room [backstage at Melbourne’s Rod Laver Arena], I can’t stand it until I get behind my drums; that’s my safe zone. That’s where I feel at home, besides in my house with a guitar. I didn’t pick isolation – this is not a story piece, that’s fucking bullshit – It’s the way I am. I like things that I like and I stick to them. I’ve been like this since I was a kid.”
What do you think that’s about? “I don’t necessarily know. I guess I was so interested in music when I was a kid and was so engulfed by it that it was all I could think about. I was like, ‘This is what I want to do and this is my calling’. I knew what I wanted to do at a very, very young age, so I am very lucky in that respect. On tour, I have done the sightseeing and it is beautiful and I love that but if I want to see something I’ll got (sic) and see it. If I want to stay in my [hotel] room and listen to music… that is what I usually do. It just depends on my mood, which is a little different every day.”
You feel comfortable at home and behind the kit, but not so much in the places in between. “I can’t relate to too many people. When I was very young my grandma told me that if you have just one really close friend you should consider yourself lucky, and I still live to that rule, because honestly, you cannot hardly trust anyone. That’s why I termed the song ‘People = Shit’. I had that term on a t-shirt when we were a club band, way before we got signed.”
It seems like you don’t fit in. “I don’t. I have never been that person who goes out to try to make friends intentionally. I like to have a drink here [at the venue] and hang out with good people but I don’t go out anymore. I like hanging out with my family and my cats and my guitar. I am probably one of the only people who has a guitar in their bathroom. It’s there just in case when I have to go shit [Laughs], I have a cool idea. I always wake up with a riff, so when I have to go and do the morning thing, I play guitar while I’m doing it.”
Something might come of it… “A lot has come of it. [Laughs] I like taking baths. I’m not a shower guy too much. I love soaking in the bath and I get really good ideas there too. I like coming out and grabbing my guitar. Even if I write some of the craziest, fastest shit of the Slipknot catalogue, I am always at peace. I have to be at peace. I can never write anything unless I am at peace. That’s what’s good about having this sort of [musical] gift.
“I watch a lot of shows on the Discovery Channel about how things are made: it intrigues my brain. Some of the science stuff makes me feel a little stupid, but then I’m like, wait, what they (sic) hell are you talking about? They can’t do what I’m doing.”
Surely, you are in the wrong business [music] if you are looking for trust? “I can’t bitch about anything because I am very lucky, but luck has nothing to do with where I am right now. That luck shit can fuck right off. I work my fucking ass off to be like this. I did this to be true to myself and to my friends. Then you have all these assholes come in and they are like, ‘We can’t play a goddamn note but we learnt how to market a bunch of shit and collect off you’. I cannot stand one of them. Slipknot is a product of the shit we hate, and when we go out onstage it is vengeance.
“On the other hand, the maggots who come to our shows, I have something in common with each one of them: that’s how much they understand my music. Our music becomes their music. They give it right back to us and it gives us energy. I can see in kids’ eyes what we have done, what a movement we’ve created. Not many bands have done what we have.”
Last year Clown [Shawn Crahan, percussionist] told Terrorizer he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do Slipknot anymore. “I don’t believe that at all. Plus, there isn’t any shit that needs to be ‘repaired’, like there’s a rift between band members. We all do other stuff. There are no fights. We are getting along so well right now. The feeling is like it was in 1999, when we first came out. Corey and I understand each other more than we ever have. The thing is that we have never not gotten along; it’s the fucking press that turned us against each other. In fact, I brought Corey into Slipknot. Back then, no one even wanted him in the band.”
Why not? “At that time we were like an eccentric death metal circus act. It was great, but something was missing. I said to Clown that we needed to get Corey to sing for us. Shawn [Clown] is hardcore, he is the dad of our band and we respect his opinion. He was like, ‘Fuck no’, but said he liked Corey’s vocals. So myself, Mick [Thompson (sic), guitar] and Shawn went to the porn store where Corey used to work. When we arrived Corey was really nervous, like we were going to beat him up or something. Shawn went up to Corey and asked him if he wanted to try out and he freaked out.
“The next day he parked his car around the back of the studio – because we didn’t want anyone to know – and it was just me and Shawn. The first song he demoed was ‘Me Inside’. I sat next to Shawn and said, ‘Watch this shit, I know what’s going to happen’. Corey got to the chorus and Shawn looked at me and was like, ‘You were right’. Corey’s relationship with me has come full circle. We love each other very much.”
Right now, what binds Slipknot together? “We started to think, what if it [Slipknot] did go away, and realised how much the band meant to us. The songs mean more to me now than they ever have… remembering the crap we went through, all the stupid bickering and crap that never needed to happen. All of that has been weeded out and now it’s like we’ve been rebuilt, stronger than ever. Slipknot is a machine right.
“Our band is nine fucking extraordinary personalities, extreme, intense personalities, who live all over the place and yet we are still together, so fuck you. I would die for these guys. If I died onstage, I wouldn’t care. This is going to sound stupid, but it would be from my heart. It’s a fucking war onstage, it isn’t safe.”
Your temporary bass player [Donnie Steele] is out of view. Why? “The other guy [Donnie] is not allowed onstage, no fucking way. He is behind the stage and does a great job. We are nine people and we unfortunately lost one. But it doesn’t matter; we are still nine. We can never replace Paul, but that’s why I bought (sic) Donnie into the band. He was the first guitar who played before I came into the picture, when we were The Pale Ones. He is a really cool guy and very mellow.
“We haven’t decided on another bassist yet. We don’t want any marquee names or anything like that. It doesn’t make sense to bring anyone in from another band that’s huge. We want to keep it in the family, and he’s part of our family and it’s been great ever since.”
Will the next Slipknot album still be “the darkest one ever?” “It’s going to be dark no matter what. There ain’t no changing that fucking statement.”
How much darker than ‘Iowa’ can you go? “That’s up to us. So far, I’ve written and recorded 40 songs.”
Is there a song about Paul? “Yes, my working title is ‘Gray’.”
Have you been working with the other guys or by yourself? “To tell you the truth, it’s just been me. Everyone is writing stuff, but people want to do other projects [Corey Taylor and Jim Root and (sic) working on a new Stone Sour album. Clown has released a photography book], and so I’m writing alone until we can all come together. Then we can start playing and go from there. That’s how we wrote, ‘Prelude’, ‘The Blister Exists’, it’s how we start a lot of songs.”
With the next album, what is the journey you wish to take the listener on? “This will be our deepest, most celebrated record. The journey is that we are trying to live our lives, just like everyone else is trying to live theirs’. We all have weird shit in our lives and a lot of our songs reflect that. On the next record we will be exorcising, getting out a lot of the crap out that I think personally, we have held in too much, against each other.”
What sort of emotions will come out? “Both positive and negative. Jealousy? That doesn’t exist in this band. That is the worst emotion; it kills people. You know who fucking does that? It’s the press, and it just pisses us off. People [journalists] keep putting words in our mouth. If they want to keep doing it, keep doing it, because it’s pissing us off right now. Everyone on the outside – journalists, business manager, accountant – this album will be the worst in terms of ‘fuck you’. ‘Iowa’ was kind of playful. This one, as far as emotions go, is going to connect with everyone way more than any of our others.”
Where do you see Slipknot evolving from here? “Slipknot can do two things: either leave the legacy where it is now or cut everything that’s been before and take it even further. That’s where my mindset is at. I can only see it getting even bigger.”
In the early 2000s, Clown had stage props of cow heads on spikes. What is the most shocking thing Slipknot has done? “We never look to shock anyone. If it’s shocking to some people, then I guess you can call it shock but that was never the intent. That’s just Shawn being Shawn. We used to go down to the meat packing plant [in Des Moines] and were really intrigued by the smell of dead animals. We’d just sit there and gawk at them. We just liked the fucking smell of it. No matter how pungent or grotesque.
“Bringing that type of stuff out was part of the ‘Iowa’ cycle and it made sense then. I don’t think it makes sense now. The thing about that is you never know what we are going to do tonight. I don’t know what the rest of them are doing (sic) to do; they don’t have to know what I am going to do. We don’t have structure. Ours is no choreographed shit.”
You’ve been doing Slipknot for almost 20 years. To what extent have you mellowed? “Not at all. I’m still punk rock. I will travel in a van; I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me: trains, buses, planes, whatever, I’ll get there. As long as I have my leather jacket and maybe a toothbrush, throw me in a fucking corner and I’ll sleep there. I don’t give a fuck.”
Slipknot must have made a lot of money. Looking at you, you’d never know it, as you are in no way ostentatious. “To tell you the truth, I have no fucking clue about it. [Laughs] It’s there, but money and all that shit doesn’t register with me. I don’t calculate it. Maybe it’s stupid but I don’t give a fuck about money, which is maybe why I’ve been ripped off in the past, but I just don’t care. Money is bullshit to me. I hate it. It’s an evil fucking thing. It controls the world and that’s why I don’t like it. With our band, it was never about that and it still isn’t. The last thing we think about is that. But if there is money to be made, of course we want to make it and not get ripped off.
“When we were starting we thought maybe we’d sell 30,000 records. Even getting signed was weird. When someone says, ‘You need to get business smart’, I’m like, fuck all that. I am still that little punk rock kid. That little kid that was in his basement playing drums, blast-beating and learning all this shit from the bands I grew up listening to.”
What does your number [1] mean to you? “Now it doesn’t really mean much. When we started it was an idea and I am number one for a reason. I was that number because I am the base of the band, the rhythm section, its glue. I don’t really look it at (sic) much anyone (sic), I try to think of us by our names, but I’m glad to still have that number.”
In 2000 you let my 15-year-old socially awkward nephew watch Slipknot from the side of the stage [in Melbourne, Australia]. 12 years later as his mother was dying of cancer, he recalled how much that meant to him. And how you looked after him. “That means a lot to me. [Pauses] I’m glad he had that outlet [Slipknot] because that’s what I needed when I was young. I needed it because I was an outcast. I don’t have many friends and I don’t want them: that is my sickness. The ones that I have are the guys in my band; they are my brothers. They would do anything for me.
“When I was young… that’s why I was so attracted to music. Everyone else was into sport and extra curricular activities and so I was the misfit. Music just felt safe. It spoke to me so loudly that it made everything seem clear – nothing else at that time did. In a weird way, it almost chose me. The demon grabbed me by the throat and put me on a mantle and said, ‘This is what you are going to do’. I have been stuck there ever since. [Laughs] It’s not a bad place to be. It makes me comfortable and keeps me warm.”
‘Antennas To Hell’ is out on July 16 on Roadrunner www.Slipknot1.com
Joey on:
Watain “They are the real deal, man. I think [frontman] Erik Danielsson is in the top 3 black metal singers of all time. That guy’s voice is pure. Watching them, people want to do the whole pit thing, but I am the opposite, I find it relaxing. It’s weird. The blood they put on, that’s real. They are coming to Iowa, so I will probably be in the front row, being a fan boy.”
Burzum “I loved ‘From The Depths Of Darkness’ [2011]. A lot of people focus on the murder [of Euronymous], but I look beyond that, to his music. I don’t condone murder, but I’m like, ‘Get over that and listen to this shit’. The Count is about as dark as you get and I totally love everything he has done. I haven’t met him, but he’s definitely one of the people I’d love to meet.”
Marilyn Manson “I met him a long time ago and we became friends after that. What I like about him more than anything is that you never know what’s coming. He is unpredictable and that is punk rock. That to me is true fucking art. I think that’s why him and me really connected. He gets me and I get him too. I haven’t talked to him for a while, but he’s always been nice to me.”
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