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#honestly I think it’s what I want in a relationship which is so unhealthy
pluckyredhead · 1 day
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☕️batfam (not each character, but your opinion of them as a family both in canon vs. canon)
I think the version of them that you see in things like WFA and a lot of fandom stuff is delightful and entertaining. Don't get me wrong - a lot of the fandom stuff is also wildly wrong and infuriating. But there are writers who do a great job with a more fannish take on the Batfamily and I enjoy their work. (It is usually...painfully obvious who has actually read the comics and who only knows the Batfam via tumblr posts.)
The Batfamily in mainstream continuity is...not that. The characters are significantly more traumatized and rarely joke around with each other. They're also not a unit in the same way. They almost never do anything together out of costume. They don't have a joint baseline relationship of "family" - each pair of characters has a unique relationship. Like, Dick and Damian are close, Tim and Damian have a very rocky history, and Jason and Damian have honestly just not interacted that much? (Hilariously, Jason literally shot Damian early on and Damian doesn't appear to hold a grudge, while you know Tim is still mad about the dinosaur thing.) Damian has a specific relationship with Steph. Tim has a specific (and close!) relationship with Babs. (He used to just...hang out in the Watchtower! Being nerds together!) Duke and Cass are close, which of course is largely ignored by fandom. Etc.
I think the fact that the canon relationships are fraught and in some cases either really volatile or nonexistent is potentially really interesting. Like, I would love to see a story that puts Jason and Tim on a mission together and really digs into that dynamic, or Tim and Damian. (Or my dream story, one where Tim feels Some Kind Of Way about how he used to be Dick's favorite but now Damian very clearly is. (This is not how Dick sees it at all, for the record. Tim is his little brother! But Damian is his baby. It's different.))
Or look at the Robins' current relationships with Bruce: Dick is the closest with him but also accepts and absorbs much of Bruce's bad behavior without question. Bruce and Jason cannot be around each other for more than 30 minutes without dragging up every wound they've inflicted on each other over the years. Tim is desperate to fix Bruce to a degree that's actively unhealthy for Tim. Bruce functionally ignores Steph's entire existence and she seems to have wisely made her peace with that. And Damian is desperate for the unconditional love Bruce seems incapable of giving and mad at himself for it.
I don't actually want to change that. I find it fascinating. I'm not opposed to stories about the kids healing some of that damage, but I don't particularly want it to be via their relationships with Bruce. I'd like to see it happen via their relationships with each other. (That one story where Dick was like "Tim you will never fix Bruce, PLEASE stop trying" and Bruce was like "Lol he's right" was SO good. And then the writing on Tim went catastrophically off the rails but we're not talking about that right now.)
Anyway I think I've gotten a little far afield of your original question, but basically: I like (the good takes on) the fanon Batfam, but I also think the canon Batfam is really interesting. I don't think the two should be conflated (which is what DC does when they try to give us fluffy interactions that haven't been earned, Tom Taylor). And I don't think anyone is wrong for preferring either a more lighthearted take or a more fraught, canon-compliant take. The asshole behavior comes in when you refuse to accept other people's preferences.
(But also, if you are looking for an actually loving and healthy canon family that has playful interactions, you want the Flashes or the Arrows.)
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eisforeidolon · 2 days
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I am sorry but I just need to vent about misha being an absolute creep. I am so goddamn tired of him constantly trying to insert himself into jensen and danneel's relationship saying danneel is his girlfriend or in the recent purgatory 8 con, his wife. It's so disrespectful towards their marriage, kids and family. I understand it may be a joke but there's a limit and misha always seems to cross that. It's like he's in love with the idea of having a threesome with the ackles. He always has something or the else to say about danneel sexually which is honestly creepy to me. And I've noticed how that makes jensen so uncomfortable, like dude that's his wife back off. He has done this soo many times over the years. Ughhh I strongly dislike him, idk how the others stand him after he makes such crass jokes. And the fans who ship the 3 together are soo toxic and delulu like which sane couple would want to include such a problematic person like misha into their relationship and make it an unhealthy environment for their children to grow up in. I'm sorry for the vent, I'm just very disgusted by him😶
No apologies necessary, because I agree, it's just so fucking weird.
We know the the Ackles primarily (if not exclusively) only hang out together with Misha around work-related events. On the one side, while Danneel has made some vague noises about being a fan of Misha/Castiel, and Jensen does talk about him as a friend? Most of Jensen's comments about him are dunking on him for being awkward, for saying shit he can't back up, and just generally ribbing him for the weird shit he gets himself into and what a strange guy he is. Then on the other side you have Misha frequently making these very sexual and/or suggestive quote unquote jokes about both of them. Like, I'd still think it was odd if they were all publicly sharing that kind of sexualized banter back and forth on a regular basis, but they aren't. It's always Misha starting it and often Misha doing it alone, metaphorically behind their backs. Which is a huge part of what makes it so creepy, because it makes him come off more like some weird invasive fan failing at boundaries who they have to publicly be nice to because ~*SPN fambily*~ rather than it being an understandable friendship that genuinely exists between them.
Which is bad enough, but you can't separate his behavior from the context of the fandom he's pointedly doing it for. The loud majority of people still buying his crap (ops/autos/merch) and potentially following any future projects he might have? Are hellers/cockles shippers. Who only really care about him in terms of fantasizing about him and Jensen together (and pointedly include Danneel to contrast themselves against the wife haters in the extreme J2 tinhatter camp). Which takes the whole thing from just awkward creepy into a very calculated, opportunistic user kind of creepy.
I'm not sure there's anyone or anything Misha wouldn't "joke" about being intimate with if he thought he could make a buck off it. He's shown over and over he has no integrity and blatantly lacks respect for other people if throwing them under the bus (or talking about them as a sex object) will play well with his audience.
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philsmeatylegss · 1 year
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Whenever I write something that involves strangers to lovers trope, no matter the plot, I always end up making one character who feels like their only worth in a relationship is sex and the other character stops them and is the first partner who wants to get to know them before having sex. I’m an entire virgin. I have never had sex or have been in a relationship. Writing is putting your feelings and experiences into a story. And my stories always end in this trope and I don’t know what it could possibly mean? It’s never in the original plot I just end up at that trope somehow. It’s unconscious. What does that mean????
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
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Can I request a part 3 to "unrequited"?
A/N I honestly was not planning another part to this story. I'm just gonna... leave this here. (Pls don't hate me guys. This is so genuinely the only path I could think of for this story that I liked.)
Unrequited pt. 3 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Um. Alastor is dark/yandere in this part. Uh. Unhealthy relationship. Yeah.
Word Count: 2,094
Previous Parts:
Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)
Unrequited Pt. 2
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Alastor had cornered her in the hall. The years, the games, the challenges, none of it was fun anymore. It all came to an end tonight. There was no other option, not when she could die tomorrow. The angels were coming, and they were coming for the hotel.
"I don't want you here tomorrow."
"What!?" Y/n exclaimed in utter shock.
She hadn't known what to expect when Alastor had stopped her as she made her way downstairs to the bar. Everyone was supposed to be having a drink together, celebrating their afterlives that there was a chance they might loose. She didn't know what to expect but, she certainly hadn't expected this.
Alastor had been acting weird lately. He was always weird but ever since the day with Husk in the hallway, he'd been weird even by those standards. He was always finding something for Y/n to do that put her near him, always watching. It was irritating. They had been fighting a lot and Alastor still had yet to apologize to Husk.
"I don't want you at the hotel tomorrow. You are not coming near this fight."
"What the fuck, Alastor?" Y/n nearly stamped her foot on the floor, she crossed her arms and glared at the demon, "I... these are my friends. This is my home. I will do what I can to protect it."
"No, you wont. You wont be here." he paused, "I will use our little deal to make sure of that, if need be."
Y/n scoffed. Her anger was a fiery, radiant thing. Alastor found himself thinking she had always reminded him quite a bit of a lioness when she got like this. The thought had been an accident, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when these were the stakes. Alastor pushed it away.
"You fucking... literally why? Like, what? I... sorry, just taking me a bit to process this: the demon who tricked me into selling my soul to them is now going to use that contract to take me, a valuable asset, out of a war which we cannot afford to loose?"
"Yes." Alastor nodded.
"Because?" Y/n prompted in irritation after a moment.
Alastor sighed.
"Y/n, think about what could happen if you are here."
"The same thing that could happen to any one here!" Y/n threw her arms up in exasperation, gesticulating her frustration as she spoke, "The same thing you're forcing on Husk and Nifty, have you had this chat with either of them?"
Alastor didn't respond. It was all the answer she needed.
"Yeah, I didn't fucking think so!" she scoffed, "So it's okay for everyone to risk their lives -- it's okay for you to risk your life even, but not me? Its okay for you to force my friends to risk their lives, but you're going to force me to stay out of it? Listen to yourself, you sound ridiculous."
"We don't need your help. You're slow, you will only hold us back."
The comment he had hope would dampen Y/n's spirit, bend her will into submission, only added to her fire.
"I'm... that's bullshit and we both know it. I might be small, but so is Nifty. Everyone has skills they can offer. I know how to fight, how to survive, and we will have angelic weapons for Christ's sake. Like, I really don't understand what the issue your having is here."
"Y/n, just... no." Alastor shook his head, a hand to his temples, "No. You will not be here tomorrow. I forbid it. I'm sending you to stay with Rosie."
"What am I, your kid?" Y/n sneered.
Alastor looked over at her, his hand falling from his forehead.
"Just please, Y/n." he took a step forward, pulling her hands into his. Alastor took a deep breath. "For me."
Y/n's eyes went wide. Alastor could see the conflict, the swirling emotions. Anger turned to grief, mixed with gratitude, and became anger again. A never ending cycle.
His heart pounded against his chest, it fought him valiantly for release. It had been so long. So long since she'd looked at him with anything other than disgust, so long since she had let him touch her like this.
Y/n settled on confusion as her dominant emotion and pulled her hands from his grasp. Alastor mourned the contact, his hands still held up in the air where hers had met them as Y/n took a step away.
"Why."
It wasn't a question. Y/n commanded information and at the end of the day, he may own her soul but she owned his heart. Alastor felt like in some way, she always had. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing her but, he didn't know if he could handle the rejection either. There was no way, no chance, she would believe him if he told her too much of the truth but, lying wouldn't work either. It would have to be a careful balance, a calculated withholding of information. Too much was riding on tomorrow, on tonight, on this very moment.
"Because I don't want you to die."
Y/n's brow furrowed even further, their eyes growing wider still as she stumbled another step back. Her back was nearly against the wall now, there wasn't anywhere else she could go.
Her eyes flitted around the space fervently. Her lips formed words that never left her mouth. Alastor watched, stress eating him alive. At last, Y/n did something. She brought her hands to her head and sunk to the floor, her knees pulled into her chest.
"What are you doing to me." she muttered softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
For what felt like the thousandth time, Alastor felt a little piece of his heart fracture off. He didn't know how much more he could take of this before there was nothing left to break, nothing left to loose. She looked up at him, her hands still holding either side of her head and her eyes wet with tears.
"Why do you care?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. There was an insistence in her voice, a pleading. He stood in indecision for a moment, frozen by want, by need, by fear. His body took over as he took a step towards Y/n. Alastor kneeled down in front of her.
With great care, with a familiarity and gentleness Y/n hadn't felt from him in years, Alastor untangled her fingers from her hair. He held her hands in his once again and this time, he wasn't going to let go.
"Because I care about you."
Shock at his own bravery emanated from his chest. Alastor held his breath.
"You..." Y/n's eyes hardened, "I wish you'd stop messing with my head like this. Its not funny."
"Y/n, I'm not messing. I am not playing a game, I'm not..." Alastor sighed, letting go of one of Y/n's hands and running his hand through his hair as he looked to the side.
Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face her, grabbing her free hand once again.
"I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, that I'm not. But I will keep you safe. No matter what, you will not be here tomorrow."
"Please, Alastor."
His heart stopped. He couldn't recall the last time she'd asked him for anything that wasn't to leave her, Husk, and Nifty, alone. He couldn't recall the last time she'd seemed to fragile in his arms.
"Please, they're... they're my family. I can't..." a single tear rolled down Y/n's cheek, "I can't just leave them."
"I..."
There was a moment, a split second where he almost agreed. Alastor's eyes narrowed. He dropped Y/n's hands and got back to his feet. She adjusted her position in response, nearly kneeling before him.
"Please, Alastor. Let me help them. Let me do what I can to protect my family. Please. I'll do anything you want... I'll..."
It almost worked. Alastor felt his purpose waver again. Then the fear came back. He had already lost so much. His mother, his humanity, his own soul and free will. Alastor refused to add Y/n to the list of things that were so far out of his reach. He just couldn't. He didn't care if she hated him for the rest of eternity, as long as it meant she was safe at his side.
"No." he shook his head, his heart hardening, "You forget, you already have to do whatever I want. You forget, I own you."
Y/n's scream of anger as the shadows took her was muffled as she was sucked into their portal. Alastor stood, watching the spot she had been in for a few moments and then, he doubled over in pain. It shot through him in spikes, in daggers. It was the first time he had told her that. Not once before had Alastor ever said those three words to Y/n, not even when they had first made their deal. I own you.
The guilt, the regret, all of it underpinned by the overwhelming love. It had been trapped for so long, so sheltered and pushed back in the recesses of his mind that it had twisted. The love had become obsessive, dangerous, hungry.
With a breath, Alastor stood straight once again. Pushing his composure back to the surface, he smoothed his hair and went down to the bar to inform everyone of his decision. He may have forced Y/n to do something she didn't want to, fracturing things further than he'd believed possible, but he wasn't going to blame her for it. Alastor was used to being the villain and hopefully, in this case, he wouldn't have to be. Hopefully, they would understand.
Y/n gasped for breath as she was let out of the shadow portal. Panting on all fours, slowly she brought herself back together. Y/n had met Rosie before, once or twice. She knew she was a kind soul at heart, a reasonable person, and she knew that Rosie's cannibals were the main force of their army tomorrow. All she had to do was convince the overlord to let her join them, and it would be okay.
Taking a deep breath to restore her confidence, Y/n looked up. Her heart dropped.
"No."
She got to her feet, looking carefully around the decrepit old radio tower.
"No. Nonono."
Her breaths becoming panicked, she ran to the door. It was locked. Taking a step back, she kicked it harshly. The firm wood didn't budge.
Driven by adrenaline alone, Y/n ran to the windows and began to hit them with all her might. None of them so much as trembled.
"No!"
She looked wildly around the space and, spotting Alastor's chair, picked it up. Y/n hurled it at the window. There was a crash and for a split second, there was hope. That was until she realized it was the chair that had broken, not the window.
"No! No!"
Turning back to the door, she hurled her body repeatedly against it. Each time, she got the biggest running start she could. Each time, there was no change at all, nothing happened. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes, she was long past panicked now.
"NO!"
After about twenty minutes, Y/n was out of breath and exhausted. Her whole body hurt and her face was sticky with tears. She sat at the door, her back pressed against it and her knees pulled into her chest. Burying her face in her legs, she sobbed.
Everyone was at the hotel, except for her. Everyone was preparing to fight for and protect what they loved, except for her. What would they think? What would they say? Much more importantly, would they make it out?
A sudden fear gripped her, a fist around her heart. Would she ever see any of them again? Y/n's sobs redoubled.
"Fucking..."
She sniffed, her panic and grief quickly fixing itself back in the shape of the familiar anger. She could see him in her minds eye, that moment his eyes had softened, that moment she thought that maybe he had been telling the truth all along, that they really had been friends, that he really did care.
"I hate you Alastor!" she screamed to herself, alone in the dark, "I hate you and I will continue to hate you until the day I fucking die again!"
----
A/N I love an irredeemable villain and doomed, misshapen love. I'm sorry to anyone who wanted this to end up happy.
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merakiui · 7 months
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long-distance love.
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, phone sex, obsession, power imbalance, kidnapping, implied (cyber)stalking, non-con touching, characters written as 18+ note - sea witch, the magicord mod you've had intimate online relations with, is closer than you thought.
Sea Witch is a busy man.
His weekly schedules are almost always packed to bursting, each event meticulously arranged into open slots as if aiming to form a perfect puzzle. Times never conflict; he’s particular about how he spends his hours, and very rarely does he allow himself a break. It has always been work, work, work. He’s one of the city’s most affluent, eligible bachelors and yet he’s married to his business. Those who lust after him think it’s a wasteful shame. Azul finds it to be a relief far greater than any he’s ever known. He will never compromise the enterprise he’s built from the ground up just because of some flimsy, fickle feelings.
Originally, he had no interest in Magicord, a messaging platform that grants people from all over the world the chance to congregate on specific servers for mutual interests like anime and gaming. He only downloaded it because Idia Shroud, a fellow friend and business partner, lived and breathed the app, his online presence so profound it was almost like a second home. He’d swipe away notifications from his actual messaging app, too busy in a voice call with his group of dungeon raiders to bother answering important calls.
So he resolved to get on Idia’s level in hopes of improving communication. Although Idia’s level, as Azul often noted, was not exactly a place he wanted to be. While Magicord could be used for business purposes, that wasn’t what drew people in. Azul of all people knew very well which target audiences were being reached with apps like Magicord, and he was not one of them.
“To think I’d stoop as low as this,” Azul had once groused over a phone call with Idia, who was giving him quite a lengthy, not-very-needed-but-also-very-much-needed rundown on Magicord’s inner workings. “I hardly have time to play games, let alone socialize on this…app.”
“Aren’t you always going on about how adaptable you are?” Idia sniped back, not in the mood for normie criticism. The sound of clacking keys could be heard on his end. “And you’re the one who asked. Kinda defeats the purpose of learning if you’re just gonna complain.”
Azul rolled his eyes. “I fail to see the logic in downloading another app just to ensure my messages reach you. Honestly, you ought to start checking your email. Or, at the very least, go through your missed call and text logs.”
Alas, Idia had been stubbornly adamant about his preferences and so, much to his displeasure, Azul was forced to undergo something of a Magicord Training Camp until he emerged a pro. And being a pro meant knowing how to navigate his own profile and toggle between that and Idia’s, which was really the only tip he needed because that was all he’d use the app for.
But Azul has always had an innate itch for wanting to know something from top to bottom, inside-out, and the idea of not knowing every little detail about Magicord drove him insane. If there was an opportunity he could capitalize on, why should he risk squandering it with his elementary-level knowledge? So he spent his rare slivers of free time playing around in there, creating a server and wondering who could ever become so attached to an app when the world beyond the screen was filled with just as many, if not more, social encounters.
His introverted side understood the appeal. In fact, he loved the idea of hiding behind a manufactured persona online. He didn’t have to be Azul Ashengrotto on Magicord. Rather, he could rid himself of his dislikable traits and become an entity—an idea or a concept—rather than a flawed man who others might scrutinize ruthlessly.
So he became Sea Witch, and within just a week he’d constructed quite the comfortable server. The invite link was spread throughout the various branches of Mostro. It would provide employees with an online sanctuary, where they could easily connect should doing so in person prove complicated (as had been the case regarding Idia, which was the sole reason he’d even poured so much time into this effort). Most of all, it gave Azul the chance to keep watch from afar, silently sitting in wait and curating a collection of mostly unimportant intel. Mere gossip, if anything.
But gossip is just as good as the next scandal. He likes to be prepared, a razored edge on all sides.
As far as the company was concerned, no one knew who this Sea Witch character was and no one knew who spread the link. And as far as individual employees knew, this was likely just some overworked intern’s labor of love—a well-crafted server intended to function as a digital gathering place for those exhausted after a long day. And that was mostly true, but all of the potential blackmail he could gather, the information he could glean, and even the people he could keep a closer eye on in an online setting—all of that paled in comparison to the real prize he’d attained. This was of great importance. It was something that altered the course of his life, opened his eyes to the brilliant beauty of a first love.
It was there in that undersea-themed haven where he met you, the one who would add flavorful spice to the once bland, boring meal that was his life. And just after a few weeks of simple, cordial conversation, he realized a single taste of your kind companionship wouldn’t be enough to sate him.
Greedy to a fault, Azul wanted you in your entirety.
Which brings him to the present, where he’s currently leaning back into the expensive leather of his driver’s seat. He’s parked on a silent strip of road, in a more residential part of the city. It’s not very busy here, and his windows are tinted to avoid immediate recognition. Rush hour won’t hit until later, and he’s not due for any conferences. He has time. Plenty of it to spare on this little excursion.
“I wanna meet you, Sea Witch,” you admit, nearly whining through the phone. “Where’re you from? Maybe we’re in the same area.”
Azul smiles at your impatience. You just can’t get enough of him, can you?
Every weekend, you hop into a VC with him and chat for hours on end. At first he simply provided a listening ear when you wished to rant through text or call. You’d voice all sorts of complaints. Azul filed them away in the event that they might be useful in the future, initially intending to use such information to ruin you should you prove to be someone worth ruining. But the more he spent listening and scrawling notes on blank paper, the more he realized you were just overworked and struggling financially.
Upon making these connections and learning all sorts of facts from you regarding your life beyond Magicord, he felt compelled to help. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course, ever the benevolent saint. And you weren’t complaining when he offered to pay you for your time. In exchange for two hours of conversation, he’d provide you with the funds you needed to afford your necessities.
Somehow, throughout many months of give and take—with his giving being on the jaw-droppingly exorbitant side, always one to top his own ludicrous generosity—your hours-long conversations would sink beneath the surface of mere companionship. It was one-sided intimacy. Azul was careful with what he shared, building a mostly secretive profile for himself. He didn’t want to risk tarnishing your fondness for Sea Witch by sharing details that felt more like Azul and less like the effortlessly funny, charming, and eloquent Magicord mod you’d originally made contact with.
You didn’t seem to worry about compromising your own privacy, easily divulging a variety of fun tidbits about your life. You’d share the tiniest of details and he’d eat it up every time, hungering for more than just crumbs. That time you sent him a photo of the octopus macarons you’d bought from a local bakery because you were thinking of him? He remembers it well, and he’s constantly reminded of it when you text him about things you did over the weekend or hobbies you basked in. Sending photos of your houseplants, asking him for his opinion on clothes you were hoping to buy (which he was always more than willing to sponsor; all you needed to do was send the link and he’d purchase it), and even trusting him enough to fall asleep in the VC with him (arguably one of his favorite things about your unique relationship).
And he called it unique not because it was a bad sort of strange. Rather, it was unique in the refreshing sense. He’d never had an online friend before, let alone someone who would so willingly and readily indulge him. Granted, this willingness stemmed from the deal he’d cut with you and so you were really only doing these things for your own gain. But then so was he. It was a relationship built upon necessity. You needed money to survive, and he needed you.
So it was okay to fall into sleazy fantasies. It was all an act anyway, and it wasn’t like you judged him or his preferences. At least, not outright. If you did, it was silent. You were considerate and sweet; and you really did consider him a friend. Or so he hoped. If your casual conversations were any proof, it was obvious there was some sort of enjoyment and trust there.
Friendship or something more, he would have you. Whether that meant in the safety of his pocket, enclosed within his mobile phone forever, or in his penthouse, tucked away in his bedroom—he’d have you.
“I’m from a city, yes,” he answers, purposely cryptic.
“Obviously. Come onnn, Witchy. Don’t you wanna meet me, too?”
“I do, and one day we’ll meet. I promise.”
He listens to your irritated groan and his cock twitches in his slacks. Good god, your voice is a blessing—more heavenly than a cherubic choir.
“One day isn’t today, though.”
“Perhaps not.” He speaks to distract you from the rustling fabric of his pressed suit as his hand strays further. He spies his reflection in the rearview mirror, notes the flash in his irises. If only you were here, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. If only he could slide his own seat as far back as it would go, lie still and serene, and let you climb into his lap to spear yourself on his erection. Genuine leather be damned. He wanted your scent, your essence, your everything engraved into the very interior. “Humor me—if we were to meet right now, what would you like to do?”
“Mm, I’d want to get a good look at the man I’ve been talking to for nine months now.”
“Oh, you’ve kept track?”
“You haven’t?” Your laughter is fluffy and light—authentic amusement. “And I’d want to memorize your face so that I’ll never forget it.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I’m so curious! You know what I look like—”
“Not entirely,” he interjects, sly and silver-tongued. “You’re a portrait half-finished in my mind. Not yet sketched to completion.”
And it’s true. From your shoulders down, you are a faceless beauty. He’s seen you nearly naked and fully clothed, in frills and lace, in latex and ribbons, in satin and chiffon. And yet, for all of the skin you’ve shown, he can’t place a face (or a real name, for that matter) to your body.
“Okay, poet,” you tease, and he’s already palming himself through the fine fabric of his trousers. “But I’ve still never seen an inch of you. You’ve never even sent a dick pic.”
“You’ve never asked.”
“Can I have one now?”
“Nice try.”
“Asshole!” you gripe, clicking your tongue in disappointment. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“I’m aware,” he hums, squeezing himself, his breath coming out faint and haggard.
Yeah, he’s the worst. But then you’re the best at eliciting these sorts of reactions from him. The effect you have on him is utterly enthralling. Your ability to reduce him to a pliable puddle in just a few words—a mere few lighthearted, hollow insults—is truly impressive. He’d feel ashamed of himself if it wasn’t so good.
“You’re probably not even that big.”
“Would you like an exact measurement?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to measure it in person? See how many inches I could fit inside. I’ve been practicing with that dildo you sent me—the one shaped like a tentacle,” you purr, frustratingly coy. He wants your sinful lips wrapped around his dick right now—wants to fuck your throat sore and raw. Wants nothing more than to spill heavy and hot on your tongue so you’ll taste him for days. “If we met up, we could make that happen. Sooo, where’s my Sea Witch from? What part of the world?”
“Patience, angelfish.”
Even though he says so, he’s practically vibrating with excitement as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Soon. So soon. Very, very soon.
And then…
He imagines you rolling your eyes with your next words. “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient. But that’s not gonna stop me from fantasizing.”
“Well, what do you think I look like?”
“Now isn’t that a fun question?” You mull it over. He can tell because you mutter a variety of ums and hmms in that soft, sweet voice of yours. “I think you’re tall and you have a handsome face that matches your equally handsome voice.”
“Yeah?” he encourages, undoing the belt, button, and zip on his pants one-handed. “What else?”
Your giggles filter into his ears, seeming closer than they actually are due to the wireless earbuds he’s wearing. “From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have expensive tastes.”
Sitting in his lavish, one-of-a-kind, custom-made sports car, Azul thinks you would be correct.
“I wonder what gave it away…” he drawls, his voice creeping an octave lower.
He places his phone in the cup holder, reaching to open the glove compartment and retrieving a tiny bottle of lube. Squirting a scant amount on his palm, he fishes himself, throbbing and pathetically hard, out of his boxers. His slick hand is a warm, welcome embrace around his silky-smooth shaft. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Mhm, I wonder. It’s not the fact that you told me I should just buy a designer bag for work when I asked for recommendations. And it’s certainly not your ability to get me lots of nice gifts as if it’s nothing. So maybe it’s just your excessive generosity that makes you seem so rich?”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.”
“Speaking of that, what do you do for a living?”
“Guess.”
“Okay, Mr. Mysterious… Um… Hm. I think you’re a pilot.”
The whiplash that assumption brings is so seismically jarring he thinks he might go flaccid. Gripping himself with renewed vigor, he slides his fist along his length, slow and perfunctory, picturing you under his desk, your mouth open wide to receive him…
“A pilot… Mm, no, not quite.”
“Aw. My second guess was gonna be a contract killer. They make lots of money.”
“You have quite the wild imagination, angelfish. Even if I was one, do you think I’d admit that to you?”
“Maybe,” you tease. He pictures your smirk as it twists your perfect, pretty lips into something wicked. “For the right price, yeah?”
“Oh? Do elaborate.”
Please. Please keep going. Don’t stop talking. I need to hear you, closer, louder, clearer… More.
“What sort of price would I have to pay to get Sea Witch to spill his secrets?” you muse, your voice a tantalizing curl of syllables, but he suspects you already know the answer to your hypothetical. “I can’t offer you money, so you’d have to settle for something a little more…physical.”
He shivers, nodding his agreement even though you can’t see it. “Physical’s good,” he mumbles, foregoing eloquence in favor of filth. “Much better than—mm—than money…”
“Yeah? All right. Let’s see… You’re well-off and you might or might not be a contract killer. Do you wear suits?”
“I do.”
“Ooh, so you’re one of those contract killers.”
Azul can’t help it; he laughs, the sound tumbling out in a breathy gasp. “I prefer looking nice at all times.”
Languidly, his hand continues its idle pumping. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the pre-cum beading at the tip.
“Even if you’re just going to get messy?”
“Explicate the situation that’s leading me to soil my clothes. Details, angelfish.”
“Well, if you’re a killer who wears suits, you wouldn’t like even the smallest stain. It ruins your image, but if it was me…” You pause, probably for effect, and it works. His back arches with anticipation, fingers closing tighter. “You’d make an exception.”
“I would,” he admits far too quickly. “Always.”
“So you really would out yourself as a killer if I spread my legs for you?”
“No, but I’d let you dirty my suits.”
“Good. They’ll look better on the floor anyway.”
His breath hitches. Fuck, your every word is a siren’s song, leading him deeper into mist-clouded waters. He’d keep you pinned on his cock all day if he could. Why should you continue to work your mundane job when you could spend your precious hours with him instead? He’ll be your job. Seven days a week, during each of the breaks he’ll pencil into his schedules, you can visit him and he can empty all of his stress into you. And you’ll take it because you’re such an obedient sweetheart for him, always so ready to please your master.
He prays you can’t hear the salacious squelch of skin on skin as he works himself towards the edge, but a nastier part of him wants you to listen in so you’ll be reminded that this is your fault. No one else can possibly make him this messy. No one else is capable of rendering him a clumsy, lovestruck fool. You’re probably well aware of these facts, having brought him to this same edge numerous times in the past. Sometimes you would reach that tipping point alongside him, your gasps and groans joining his in an obscene duet.
Neither of you decided upon today’s development, but he thinks—knows—you’re intentionally stringing him along. You want this as much as he does.
“So was I right? You’re totally a contract killer?”
“I’m a businessman, angelfish,” he corrects, a silly, drunken smile softening his jaw. You make him feel so stupid, so warm and fond.
“So basically the same thing. Just as ruthless, no?”
“Please, you wound me. I’m always kind.”
“Ah, so there are others who get this treatment? And I thought I was the only one…”
“You are. No one could ever compare to you.”
He intends to tack my love onto the sentence’s end, but he stops himself. You’re not his love. Not really. You’re his angelfish, sure, but that’s different. That’s just a pet name befitting the aquatic theme he masquerades behind. And you’re not really Azul’s. You’re Sea Witch’s.
It’s Sea Witch you know and love. Beyond that, Azul is just Azul. And he’s nothing like the ideal he’s cultivated on Magicord.
He sighs and forces himself out of the turbulent trenches of his withering self-esteem. Now is not the time to contemplate which version of himself you’d be more preferential to.
You’ll have no choice but to love the real him. Soon.
“Really? I feel so special.” Impressed, you whistle and add, “I’ve gotta make you feel special, too.”
“You already have—”
“Not inside the VC. Come on, Sea Witch, don’t you wanna meet me?”
“I do. I really do,” he babbles dumbly, grinding his thumb into his slit and smearing pre-cum. He grits his teeth and tamps down a colorful word. How he yearns for this to be your hand wrapped around his length, tugging him to that far-off finish line. “I want nothing more than to—t-than to see you, all of you, in person…”
“So what’s stopping you? I could do a lot more in person than I can over the phone.” He has a smart reply for that, but it sticks in his throat. Pitifully, like the rightful debauched mess he is, he groans, low and guttural. “Let me turn the question on you, Sea Witch. If we were to meet today, what would you like to do to me?”
So many things, he thinks, a litany of smutty imagery flickering through his head.
But Sea Witch is classy (most days) and today is one of those instances. Or at least he’s going to make an attempt, however weak it may be.
“Take you to dinner,” he mumbles, executing jerky, quick motions in a daze, his cock weeping for release. He throws his head back, peers up at the interior roof of his car, and inhales sharply. “Take you all over the city if it pleases… I’d spoil you with so much finery—dress you up and then tear every article off…”
“And then?”
“And—god, fuck—wanna be inside you, angelfish… So badly—need you so badly. I wanna feel you and kiss you and hold you.”
He’s unraveling, strings pulled taut and fraying to extremity. Azul bucks into his hand and imagines it’s you, tight and warm, a sweet, snug embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, intending to beg you for more, but all that slips out are the tiniest huffs and grunts. He’s so wrapped up in his own ardor that he almost misses your quiet pants, every breath squeezed out of you as if you’re struggling to withhold your gratuitous moans. And it’s deplorable, really, the way his ears prick at these muffled sounds, the way his cock stands rigidly at attention, the way he’s falling through fragments of filthy fantasies, each one so close and yet impossibly far.
“I want you, too,” you mewl, tone wavering between shameless thrill and some sort of seventh heaven.
He wonders what you’re using to pleasure yourself. Are your fingers, slick and curled, rubbing up against those perfect, pretty spots that have you seeing stars? Or are you using the toys he purchased for your enjoyment? Maybe you’re lowering yourself onto the dildo right now, gummy walls clenching around girthy silicone. And maybe you’re tugging at your nipples, massaging them between the pads of your fingers, or maybe you’ve swapped skin-to-skin for a bullet vibrator instead.
Maybe—just maybe—it’s the mere thought of him that sets your flesh aflame with an intoxicating desire.
“And I want you—” you gasp, and his mind travels to all of the risqué photos you’ve sent, each one saved in a password-protected album on his phone— “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. I want you to show me that no one else can compare to you. I want you to—mmh, hah—to hold me down in bed and fuck me until my legs are sore and I can’t walk.”
I will, he thinks, lashes fluttering on his cheekbones. He strokes himself quickly, chest heaving, tongue near-lolling out of his mouth as he pants like a hound in heat. I’ll do all of that and so much more. I’ll fuck every coherent thought out of your pretty head, keep you just smart enough to rely on me, turn you into the prettiest sea flower who’ll only blossom for me.
“I promise, angelfish. I promise I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he vows, his nerves alight with lustful delight, “and you’ll never know misfortune again.”
“I—oh! I’m close, so close! Please, Sea Witch! Please don’t stop. Please fill me up and make me yours!”
The sheer vulgarity twined through amatory vehemence, coupled with his own hurried pace, has him tumbling down the slope, arousal peaking and spilling over in thick, creamy spurts. He has half a mind to catch his spend before it can ruin the pristine interior of his car, and he blinks down at the semen sullying his palm. Idly, he rubs his fingers together to test the viscosity, wondering how his fluids would look on your face, your stomach, your ass—or even pooling out of your hole in plentiful amounts.
That fantasy is enough to send blood rushing right back to his softening cock, and he wills those thoughts away with logic—complex calculations and the financial forecast for Mostro. There will be plenty of time to indulge in sexual cravings later. He reminds himself of this while he tamps down his zeal, his heart relaxing in his ribs as he sits with the slowly ebbing aftershocks of orgasm.
You seem to be doing much the same, for you’ve gone perfectly quiet.
“Everything all right, angelfish?” he whispers after a few minutes, his breath now evened out.
“Mm, yeah. All good over here. Messy, but good.”
“I’m comforted knowing we’re in the same boat.” He chuckles while fumbling to dig a cotton handkerchief from the depths of his suit jacket. He cleans the cum and residual lube from off his hands and dick before neatly tucking himself away. Soon, there will be no need for this charade. Soon, he can adore all of you from beyond the screen. “Angelfish, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”
“What’s up?” you murmur, your own voice settling into its usual cheery cadence. He suspects you’re just putting on an act to sound happier. That will change when you’re reunited in person because it will be real. Because there will be no point in pretending through the phone.
“Well…” Azul smiles, folds and unfolds the sodden handkerchief, and then straightens his posture. He should be on his way now. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind it. I’ll tell you later.”
“Whaaat? But you’ve made me so curious now. Don’t just leave me in suspense!”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in that suspense indefinitely.”
“Ugh. You’re so annoying sometimes.”
He knows you don’t mean that.
“I’ll tell you soon, angelfish. Exercise a little patience. There’s no rush.”
“Easy for you to say. You know what it is.”
“That I do, yes.” He hums, considering his next words. “Would it help if I left you with a word of advice?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.”
“Um. Okay, sure. Hit me. What’s your advice?”
Azul buckles himself in, starting his car via push button. It rumbles to life, smooth and steady. “Don’t fight so much, my dear.”
“Don’t what? Sea Witch, what are you talking—”
Your words are interrupted with a startled yelp. Azul listens to the struggle as if it’s a podcast enjoyed at sunrise. Things are toppled in the chaos; something shatters. He catches the beginnings of a blood-curdling shriek before it’s swiftly silenced. There’s more muffled scuffling before, eventually, absolute peace.
It’s broken by Floyd’s petulant whine. “Maaan, Shrimpy was so difficult. Thought you said they were easy, Azul.”
“Understandably so,” comes Jade’s astute reply. “We did catch them when they were most vulnerable.”
Floyd hums his agreement. “Y’know, Jade, Shrimpy’s kinda cute…”
“They are, aren’t they, Floyd?”
“Whatever you’re thinking, perish it right now,” Azul hisses, features twisting into something dark. “Keep your slimy mitts off of my angelfish.”
There’s an unsettling silence. Azul rolls his eyes. They’re fishing for a reaction he refuses to give.
“Clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” He takes his car out of park and eases into drive. “And don’t let anyone see you. It’ll be a hell of a pain if neighbors make unnecessary reports.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard ya loud and clear.”
“Very well. Farewell for now.”
The call is cut. Azul grips the steering wheel, smug.
Soon waits for him on the horizon. He will not be a minute late.
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You wake on a bed, in a spacious bedroom with exquisite floor-to-ceiling windows, many stories up in the clouds. A brightly lit cityscape sprawls beyond the confines of this room, illuminated with the deceptive shine of promise and success. At first it looks foreign. But then you recognize notable buildings, each standing tall and proud amidst the rest, and it occurs to you that you’re in a stranger’s home, in the heart of the big city.
The room itself is plainly colored; it reminds you of a hotel or a room you might find in a real estate catalogue. Perplexed, you sit up and take pause as your unfamiliar surroundings prove to be more frightful than your own confusion.
Pasted to the walls are various printed screenshots from Magicord, each one detailing a conversation of sorts. You stare at the wall behind you, the one in which the bed is currently pushed against, and peer closer at the contents of these messages.
They’re all from you.
Endearing terms you’ve called him in passing. Gentle insults. Lewd flirts. Vents and rants. Photos you’ve sent of very insignificant things—houseplants, meals, clothes. And then there are the photos of your body in skimpy lingerie and cosplay, all taped to the wall like this is some abstract museum of the digital you. The you who, despite being honest most of the time, took solace in the world of Magicord. The you who’d grown close with the mod from that whimsical ocean-themed server. The you who is now trapped, your ankle enclosed in a cuff. There’s a lead that only allows you to meander into the attached bathroom if you so please, and you suspect it’ll pull taut if you try to leave the room.
“What the fuck?” you mutter, your stomach twisting with disgust.
You look down at your clothes—you’re in someone’s collared shirt, intentionally designed to be oversized so that it drapes like a nightgown—and horror prickles your skin.
And then he arrives.
He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a simple white dress shirt, primly tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You stare for a long moment, studying his features as his familiarity dawns. Your mouth falls open in a muted scream.
He smiles sweetly, stepping further into the amber glow from the bedside lamps. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Sea Witch.”
But that’s not what’s shocking about this. The real shock—the thing that has your brain stumbling in an effort to put the pieces together before the picture can crumble—is far more jarring than the kidnapping and the captivity. You find your voice then, and before you can stop yourself the words are falling out in a hurry.
“CEO Ashengrotto?!”
Sea Witch—CEO Ashengrotto—stiffens, his brows furrowing immediately. He gives you a sharp, dangerous look. A look that seems to radiate one unspoken question: Where did you hear that name?
“You… You’re A-Azul Ashengrotto,” you continue, swallowing thick trepidation. “CEO of Mostro. You opened a new restaurant last year—Crave, right? And the menu features celebrity favorites—celebrities like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.”
He laughs his disbelief, carding a hand through soft, silvery locks. “How…do you know this?”
“I work there. You visited once with your secretary for quality checks. We even crossed paths.”
Azul gawks, realizes he’s gawking, and clears his throat. “I… I see. Well.” He inhales, holds his breath for three seconds, and exhales. “This makes things rather…awkward.”
“When you said businessman, I didn’t think… I mean, how was I supposed to know? Your voice sounds so different over call than it does in interviews.”
“Of course it does! I never use the same inflection for those things.”
This cannot be real, you think, watching him flounder anxiously. Azul Ashengrotto is Sea Witch. This whole time… Nine entire months… I was talking to the CEO—to the city’s most popular bachelor—and I didn’t even know it. They write articles about this guy! He’s all over the TV! How did I never realize?
And then a very mortifying thought worms its way in: Oh my God. We both know each other’s preferences. He saw so much of me—more than I’d ever want him to see—and I heard too many private things during our calls…
“Let’s just…” You rub circles into your temples to quell the incoming migraine. “Let’s never talk about this again. You can buy my silence and I’ll move on with my life. I’ll even forget all of…” You glance at the Magicord conversations stuck to the wall and then the chain binding your ankle. “All of this…stuff. We’ll agree to call it a misunderstanding and life will be good, yeah?”
The bargain doesn’t seem to reach him. He continues to stare at you, his eyes glazed with an emotion you can’t place. Whatever it is, it’s stormy and dark. You don’t like it, and you shrink away when he steps closer.
“All this time you were right under my nose…”
Azul climbs onto the bed with you, the mattress depressing under the additional weight. Framed by the hypnotic radiance of the skyscrapers climbing heavenward, he’s certainly earned his place in every celebrity gossip magazine you’ve ever read. Articles debating whether he’s secretly committed to a relationship. Articles theorizing what his life plans may have in store for him. Articles discussing whether he’ll ever get married, if he’ll remain single for the rest of his life, if he’ll ever open his heart to the many people who hope to earn his romantic affections.
No one knows it—how could they when he’s so tight-lipped with the paparazzi?—but you are the secret variable the articles have yet to discover. You are the covert partner, the one who has won his heart, the one who now sits shackled on his bed.
What sort of tabloid journalist could ever spin this story?
You scoot further up the bed, your back pressing against the ornately extravagant headboard. Your knees are pulled into your chest, a futile attempt at protection.
“All this time you were so close to me…” He marvels at this, his baby blue hues locked permanently on you. “And neither of us knew. I could’ve had you much sooner had I just realized…”
You blink at him, your heart sinking with every passing second. “Mr. Ashengrotto, what do you mean by that?”
A pout tugs at perfect, pretty lips. “Why so formal, angelfish? We’re much closer than that, surely.” His hands settle upon your knees, gently pulling them apart. Your blood curdles with fear. “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s only me.”
“No… Please wait. Hold on!”
“Hm? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you want. You were rather vocal about your desires. You’ve always been. So why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scary, am I?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Please let me go…”
He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his tone patient despite the subject. “You know I can’t do that.”
“But you… You kidnapped me! Y-You had those guys hiding in my home and they…” You shake your head, unable to describe the sheer terror that had overwhelmed you when those creepy twins descended. Hopeless, you open your eyes to give him your most despairing look. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to fall at the slightest prodding.
“Oh, my dear, did they scare you? They’re brutes who know nothing of how to treat a person with adequate care. You needn’t worry anymore. I’m here for you.” He cups your face in a fond hold, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. “Don’t cry, angelfish. You’re in good hands—my hands. And have they not been the most generous?”
“You’re crazy. Obsessed! How can you think any of this is okay? Look around at the walls! You’ve pasted our conversations everywhere—they’re practically the wallpaper!”
“What of it?” His hand slides down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet him at eye level. “I love you. I have for months now. And if those are the ways you choose to classify my care, so be it.”
Tear trails trace down your face. He leans in to kiss the rivers away, but they morph into the saltiest of seas.
“You may not approve of my affections right this very moment. You may hate me, think I’m monstrous, a culmination of all things foul, but you will love me. In due time, my dear. And when you do, the world will open and the chain will come off and you will know freedom under my roof.”
He has the gall to worship you with a loving smile. It poisons you with newly brewing abhorrence.
“So cry your heart out. Scream and kick up a fit. Do what you must. And when the floods subside, we can learn to love one another. Both at our best and our worst, within and beyond Magicord.”
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animeyanderelover · 6 months
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can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)
Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction
The first touch
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🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.
🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.
🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.
🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.
🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"
🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?
🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?
🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?
🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.
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fireflysummers · 10 months
Text
Good Omens S2
Okay so.
Excellent Job, Gaiman
Ouch???
I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.
But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).
It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.
And it's slow.
Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.
Anyways.
Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.
I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.
I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.
I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.
I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.
On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.
And Crowley. Dear Crowley.
He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.
Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.
Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.
It won't be permanent.
But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.
Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.
I want Aziraphale to get angry.
He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.
I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.
But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.
For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.
For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.
For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.
And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.
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thecuriousquest · 3 months
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Hi! Can I request a scenario where the reader tries to run away while she is pregnant, and gets caught by Levi? How would he punish her, considering she is pregnant?
Pregnancy and Punishment
Yan!Levi x Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, pregnancy, unhealthy relationship, unwilling Reader, unsuccessful escape attempt, isolation punishment
Master List
Ask Box I’d temporarily closed. Thank you for your patience.
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“You weren’t thinking rationally, not that you ever do,” Levi says as he leads you back into the house by your wrist.
Closing the door behind you, he rubs his temples as he decides what to do with you.
You’re six months along in your pregnancy, and honestly, Levi can’t believe you actually attempted to escape in your condition. Even more so, he really can’t believe how far you managed to get on foot.
Too afraid to use physical violence, afraid to even give you a light smack on the ass or a quick pop on the cheek, he takes you up to the room you both share. He helps you lie down, putting your feet up on a pillow. He sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at you.
“You know you’ll be in here for the remainder of your pregnancy? I don’t care if you were feeling hormonal, and I really don’t give a shit about any other excuse you could come up with.”
Tears burn your eyes at his harsh words and your failed escape attempt.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not the fucking monster. You were trying to abandon me, take my child from me. I’m not going to lose the love of my life after I’ve lost so much already. Is that understood?”
He grabs your jaw, squeezing your cheeks to the point where your lips puff out in a little pout.
“Answer me.”
The dam bursts, and your tears flow rapidly as your shoulders shake. “Yes! I understand!”
Levi’s expression softens marginally, but he stands firm in his decision to restrict you. He lets go of your face and grabs your hand.
“I’m only doing what’s best for you. This is the best option. You don’t need to go anywhere with how dangerous it is out there. Titans, people, it’s all chaos. I won’t let you get swept up in it.”
“Okay, Levi…” You can’t help but look at your baby bump, rubbing it slightly as you continue to cry.
The captain places a lingering kiss on your cheek before leaving a chaste kiss on your swollen belly.
He doesn’t chain you up this time, fearing that the stress might be too great for you. He wants you to be able to walk around, to look out the window, the window that never opens no matter how hard you try. Levi knows that you won’t be able to open the door which locks from the outside, so he doesn’t see a problem with leaving you to your own devices in the room.
Levi loves you so much. He really wants you to know this even if he has a hard time showing it. Discipline is necessary, and you won’t escape punishment just because you’re pregnant. You’ll never be able to escape anything once Levi sets his mind to it.
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atlabeth · 1 month
Text
wake up, sunshine
knight!luke masterlist
based on this ask
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
summary: you and luke repair some things at your kingdom's annual flower festival.
a/n: have some fluff after i destroyed their relationship in the last fic! also this is based off of the scene from rapunzel because how could it not be <3 title from the all time low song bc it is soooo them "somebody loves you for yourself" <3 they're everything
wc: 2.5k
warning(s): once again luke is kinda angsty but this is much fluffier than usual! princess is nice again, they have a couple sweet moments <3
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we’ve been focusing on a lot of rough times between luke and the princess but things aren’t all bad for them!! even though she’s trying to ignore him and being forced to court a prince she isn’t interested in at all and war is imminent, war has not struck YET 
which means that things are still pretty great lol. and things are going to get a little better 
Aurelda’s flower festival always happens at the peak of spring, when all of the flowers (especially the ones only found in your kingdom) bloom, and it is full of revelry and merriment 
You’ve gone every year since you were old enough to walk, and though things have been a bit bleak for you, you’re actually excited about it! that boring prince has gone back home so you don’t have to spend the entire festival entertaining him. 
For the first time in a while, you actually get to focus on yourself and having fun. and you plan to do just that 
Of course, things are still weird between you and Luke — you know it’s your own fault, and you know that’s how it has to be, but you still hate it — but you can’t stop thinking about his words from that night as your lady’s maid helps you get ready for the festival. 
You may not care about what you want, but I do. And my loyalty is to you, princess. Not to your parents. And certainly no prince. 
Your heart twists painfully but you hide any emotion. The last thing you need is your maids spreading rumors. They already gossip about how close you and Luke are. You don’t need any star-crossed lovers narratives going on when your friendship is being put through the wringer of your own accord. 
You’re wearing a more casual outfit than usual—though your parents usually want you adorned in gowns and over the top dresses, you insisted on a simpler dress that cut off around your ankles for the ease of movement. It has plenty of embroidered flowers, of course. 
You planned to participate in every festival activity, no matter what your parents said. You deserved to have some fun after being so serious for the past month. 
You’re stuck in meetings the entire day before the festival, so you’re brimming with unspent energy the second you step out of the palace. Your leg bounces up and down the entire carriage ride, and you talk at (not to) your parents the whole time. 
You’re excited, okay? And you deserve to be. things have been rough lately, and with the prince’s presence, woefully boring. You can’t wait to get back in the middle of your kingdom and see your people. You love your subjects, and you always love when you get to meet and talk to them in person. 
Luke, on the other hand, is slightly stressed. 
As this is his inaugural year as your knight, it is a season of firsts for him, and every first comes with unhealthy amounts of stress. 
His first ball with you, his first time in another kingdom with you, his first festival with you, his first time being at odds with you. 
Luke honestly doesn’t know how you feel about him right now. You’ve put an impressive amount of distance between you and him, and you rarely talk to him outside of necessity, but he sees your lingering glances in his direction. He notices when you don’t rebuke his attempts at friendly conversation.
Luke meant every word that he said. He knows you, and he knows you don’t want this—you at least don’t want to leave him in the dark like this. So he isn’t going to let you go that easily. 
Your avoidance of him may be a good thing, though, because at least it means you don’t see his reaction when you leave your room wearing your festival dress. 
Luke has always thought of you as the most beautiful girl he knows, and that hasn’t changed with time. 
You always stun in your ballgowns and any Aureldan finery, but there’s just something about you wearing such a simplistic dress, heightened by embroidered flowers, that makes him weak in the knees. 
Maybe it’s because Luke has imagined a life away from all of this so many times. You’re not a princess, and he’s not a knight, but you’re devoted to each other the same—you just don’t have any royal strings attached. 
Apart from being a knight, Luke has never really cared where his future took him, as long as it was with you. He knows he would give up all of this and more if it meant he could share a simple life with you. 
Thankfully, he’s composed himself by the time you look at him, though he can’t push away all the lingering thoughts. 
“Are you attending the festival today, Sir Castellan?” you ask.
He hates it when you call him that, but he nods. “Of course. You’re going out into the kingdom—you need security.”
“It is a festival,” you drawl. “Nothing will happen.”
“It is still necessary,” he says. “You can think of me as your knightly escort.”
That actually gets a bit of a laugh out of you, and he suppresses a smile. “My escort. How improper of you.”
“Today is meant to be a day of festivities,” Luke says. “Impropriety may be allowed just this once.” 
Your smile remains as you start to walk together, and Luke knows he could live off of its warmth alone. 
And when you finally reach your destination, your smile gets even bigger.
It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten to be in the midst of your kingdom, surrounded by all your people. This is the part of your position that you love—you just wish your parents trusted you with it more. 
Your parents are busy with their image—they’re speaking later today, you’re sure, and right now they’re discussing things with some kind of village leader—which gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away. 
Luke is right behind you, of course, but it’s always been hard to keep up with you. You’ve grown very skilled at weaving your way through crowds, but thankfully Luke has grown very skilled at keeping an eye on you. 
By the time he catches up to you, though, it’s too late. 
“Princess—” Luke calls in protest, but you’re already off to greet a group of children calling your name. 
You know exactly how to stress him out, running off like that without him immediately behind you, but he can’t find any anger inside of him.
Luke hasn’t forgotten your words. He doesn’t know how he could. 
But in this moment, it’s so easy to see why he can’t just do his duty and let you go. 
The way you crouch down to be on their level, how you listen so intently to everything they say, your dazzling smile. 
Yes, one could say it’s your duty to be kind to your people, but for many royals, that’s not true. You’ve always cared about the people of Aurelda, ever since you were young—that may have been one of the few things that hasn’t changed as you’ve grown. Luke has always admired that about you. 
In this moment, you’re not the crown princess. You’re just you. And it’s hard for anyone not to love you. 
…It’s hard for him not to love you. 
yeah. 
this is the moment that luke realizes he loves you. like loves you loves you. 
And it doesn’t come as much of a shock to him. Luke has always loved you, one way or another. He’s just now understanding the kind of love he holds for you now. 
wants to spend the rest of his life with you, would throw himself onto a sword for you, would do absolutely anything for you type loves you. 
If anything, it brings some form of relief. 
He loves you. You don’t love him, and you’re going to marry a prince someday. Maybe within the year. 
It’s as simple as that. 
except it isn’t, obviously 
because you love him too!! you just don’t know it yet!! and you don’t really want to marry the prince your parents are pushing at you, you just don’t see any other way. 
But it’s not like Luke knows that. he may be the youngest person to ever become part of the kingsguard but he is ~ insecure ~ and he cannot imagine anyone liking him like that, especially you!!! 
Luke comes back into himself when you bound back over to him, and he notices the flower crown balancing precariously on your head. 
You have the biggest grin on your face, and though the gowns you wear at balls and fancier events are great, you’re nothing less than stunning in your simple dress. You’re slightly out of breath and your skin is luminescent with the glow of exertion. He can’t help but smile.  
Have you always been this beautiful? He’s pretty sure you have, but he doesn’t know how he didn’t realize it sooner. 
Luke has loved you for a while, he thinks. Maybe he always has—maybe that’s what the warm feeling he gets in his chest when he looks at you is. Maybe that’s what made his heart clench every time a prince danced with you at that ball. 
Maybe his love for you has always been what’s pushed him forward. 
“Luke,” you said, and once again, you snapped him out of his thoughts. You were absolutely beaming at him, and you wore a flower crown on your head. “Are you there?” 
Luke, he realized. Not Sir Castellan, for what felt like the first time in weeks. 
“I’m always here,” he said. “I’ve got superior training, princess.” 
“Of course,” you said with mock austerity, nodding sagely. “I could never forget.” 
You held up another flower crown, one similar to yours, and your smile grew. “The kids made another one, too. They said it was for my grumpy looking knight.” 
Luke scoffed, but there was no edge to it. “I’m not grumpy. Merely cautious.” 
“Oh, yes,” you said dryly. “I’m sure those kids had devious plans, Luke.” 
That got the slightest of smiles out of him, and it spurned warmth in your chest. “It’s my—” 
“It’s your job to watch me,” you finished. “I know. Just teasing you.” 
“And I welcome it,” he said. “It’s nice to see you like this, princess.” 
“Talking to my people and actually making a difference?” you guessed. 
“Happy,” he corrected. 
“Yes, well…” you trailed off, glancing away for a moment as you shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” 
“And for once, you don’t look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Luke’s eyes drifted to the flower crown sitting on your head, and his smile grew. “It suits you.” 
“Carelessness or flower crowns?” you asked wryly. 
“Flower crowns.” Luke crossed his arms. “You’re far from careless, princess.”
You rolled your eyes 
“You’ve got to stop talking down on yourself like that,” he said. “Like nothing you say or do matters. Because it does. It may not feel like it, but you’re doing valuable work.” 
“Oh, yes,” you said breezily. “I’m sure sitting in meetings that don’t matter and looking pretty as I stand in the background during my father’s speeches is valuable work.” 
“That’s not what I mean.” Luke gestured at the crowd of people around, specifically pointing at the group of kids that you’d entertained. “You fight for them every day, even if you don’t realize it. You care about these people, princess, which is already more than half of the people in that castle do for them. Why else would they adore you?” 
You bit your lip and glanced away. It was hard to take Luke’s words to heart when you truly felt like you were doing nothing—when it felt like the only thing you could possibly be good for was a marriage. 
But you did argue with your parents near every chance you got on matters of support and aid for your people. It was the least you could do, especially when you knew you would never really have to deal with consequences. 
(There was a reason most of your father’s advisors had to suppress groans every time you would sit in on a meeting. You took pride in your ability to annoy.) 
“Let’s call a truce, okay?”
You frowned. Now it was Luke bringing you out of your thoughts. “A truce?”
“I don’t want you to keep avoiding me, and I don’t think you’re really enjoying it either.” Luke met your gaze. “We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, princess. Don’t let boring princes come between that.”
You glanced away. “Luke…” 
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know your duty, and I know mine. But seeing you today, so carefree and happy—it’s worth more than a million gold pieces to me.” 
You’d been dancing around this topic since the night you pushed him away. It just hurt too much to talk about, and you felt like you didn’t have a right to be hurt—not when you were the one that did it. 
You loved Luke—he’d been your best friend for as long as you could remember. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t hate the time you’ve been spending apart. 
“We’re both getting older, I know. And we both have responsibilities we’re going to take on. God, someday, you’re going to be queen.” Luke huffed a laugh, though his eyes never wavered from you. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t get through it together. Just like we’ve gotten through everything else together.” 
Luke held out his hand. “So? Truce?” 
You stared at his hand for a moment, unable to meet his eyes. You knew exactly what you wanted to say but you felt like you couldn’t. 
Because dammit, your days felt so dull. You always wanted to talk about your day and how boring your lessons were or the bullshit your father’s advisors have been discussing in meetings, and Luke was always the person you wanted to talk to about it all. He always has been. 
And you pushed him away. 
Before you could doubt yourself, you ignored his hand entirely and pulled him into a tight hug. Luke wrapped his arms around you immediately, holding you close. 
“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” you whispered. God, how you’d missed his embrace—you never felt safer than when you were in his arms. “And I’m sorry for being so stupid.” 
“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he murmured. “And you’re certainly not stupid. Don’t even think that way.” 
You let out a breathy laugh as you pulled away, smiling softly at Luke. “I’m stupid to ever think I could really stay away from you.” 
and for the rest of the festival, you and luke are practically inseparable<3 not just because he’s your guard but because you’re best friends. 
You’re not going to let anything change that going forward. any prince that wants to marry you is just going to have to deal with that. 
(you even get him to wear that flower crown.)
(and though he tries to hide it, he kind of loves it.) 
(mostly because he loves you<3) 
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psuedosugu · 4 months
Note
You know something I've noticed? Yeah, Nifty is your typical yandere but can we talk about Vox? You technically don't even have to request him as a yandere unless you want it to be romanticized toward you and/or further explored because according to ALL of the recent regular Vox x readers (and the show itself), he clearly has many traits of one especially toward Alastor. He acts like a toxic, jealous ex 😂 He cyberstalks people for one, he's manipulative, insecure (this is where possessiveness and jealousy tends to stem from), doesn't take rejection well as we heard from Al, is capable of being obsessed with someone, and an overall control freak. He wants to keep the Vees' image and everything looking perfect. Imagine this guy being attached to you. An absolute nightmare. Never any privacy, eyes and ears everywhere, can teleport with or without a screen, blackmail is 100% on the table as well as other tactics, and constant validation for him whether your relationship is forced or not. What sucks about the last part is that it's a double-edged sword. If you fuel his ego, he's enabled but if you don't give him enough attention, he'll try harder and tighten his hold on you. So while Val absolutely horrible, it's like you can never win with Vox. Not when you don't have equal power and he's stated to be very strong. Especially these days, tech is an absolute must since even jobs heavily rely on it. Life and the afterlife here is much harder without a smartphone. He's literally a TV. He wants to be watched and noticed.
So he'll get it.
exactly brooo
cw: themes of manipulation, blackmail, and toxic, controlling relationships.
gender neutral
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:
ੈ✧̣̇ || honestly atp he’s practically a canon yandere.
ੈ✧̣̇ || i kinda talked about this before but i feel like he would manipulate reader into thinking that they need him when its the other way around
ੈ✧̣̇ || as u said, he’s insecure as hell and he needs someone to boost his ego and make him look superior
ੈ✧̣̇ || he also needs some source of stability in his (after) life which is where you come in.
ੈ✧̣̇ || hed also never let things go or get over you.
ੈ✧̣̇ || he started beef with a dude that he hadn’t seen in 7 whole years, for gods sake 😭
ੈ✧̣̇ || bro will start fights over things that happened months ago and are over now done with
ੈ✧̣̇ || he also craves control, not only will he spy on you through your electronics but he’ll also try and control other things that he has no business controlling like what you wear, who you talk to, ect.
ੈ✧̣̇ || if you mention your concerns about it he’ll try and back off, but hes just so paranoid that something will happen to you even though he knows you’re capable of taking care of yourself.
ੈ✧̣̇ || he needs to feel like he’s needed.
ੈ✧̣̇ || he also exerts his control by threatening you with blackmail, wether it be secrets that you told him or pictures.
ੈ✧̣̇ || not like you don’t have a fair amount of dirt on him too, though.
ੈ✧̣̇ || he’d definitely fight a bitch for you, if you’re getting threatened, stalked, and/or harassed by someone (that isnt him ofc) said person better prepare for his wrath.
ੈ✧̣̇ || hes a whiny ass bitch which is either annoying or hot depending on who you ask and what the context is.
ੈ✧̣̇ || its also kind of confusing how he acts, he’ll be practically ignoring you one second and begging for your attention the next.
ੈ✧̣̇ || another reason why he’s so scared of you leaving is because of how vulnerable he’s been to you.
ੈ✧̣̇ || he’s told you things that he’s never told anyone, shown parts of him that no one has ever seen, and the thought of what you could do with this info if you ever were to turn on him makes him feel sick to the stomach.
ੈ✧̣̇ || despite how it feels sometimes he really does care about and love you, he just has an unhealthy mindset when it comes to love.
ੈ✧̣̇ || perhaps you should stay around (not like u rlly have a choice), teach him how to love someone properly. you wont regret it :)
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:
i do requests!
check out my masterlist!
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deconstructthesoup · 6 months
Text
Thinking about it now, I think the thing that was kind of a curveball for me about Nerdy Prudes that's obvious in hindsight is that... Grace and her parents have a very loving relationship.
Don't get me wrong, Karen and Mark are still exactly the type of people who I wouldn't want to meet in real life. They're super conservative, they're ridiculously set in their ways, they think that seeing PG movies and carrying each other's books is scandalous, and the lessons that they've instilled in her daughter have clearly messed her up---she thinks that touching herself and lying to the police is the worst thing that she could've done even after she unintentionally gets Max killed and then covers it up, and something as inane and subjective as her virginity is what she cherishes above her family, which is insane. But honestly, I did expect Karen and Mark to be unbelievably strict towards Grace, and for her to be visibly tired with all the pressure.
Instead, Karen and Mark think that Grace is their little angel who can do no wrong. They're clearly worried about her once she starts acting off, and Mark actually seems vaguely easygoing for the Chastity standards in terms of letting her off. Even though their values are messed up, and they're pretty much the reason why Grace is the way she is, they're sweet and supportive.
Which makes so much sense for Grace. Obviously she wouldn't be so high-strung and uptight if she resented her parents. Obviously she wouldn't parrot everything they say if they were horrible to her. She has to have a great relationship with her parents, or she wouldn't be Grace Chastity, Nerdy Prude. Beyond that, that gives the relationship nuance! Karen and Mark can have unhealthy values that messed Grace up and made her go off the deep end over one sexual fantasy, and they can also absolutely adore their daughter and implicitly trust that she's doing what they think is right! It doesn't have to be a clear-cut "they're bad parents" dynamic! They can be good parents to Grace while also having failed her in some very key ways! This is fascinating!
And maybe this is just because they're played by Curt and Kim, who just make every relationship they play better, but it works. It really works. It makes the entire Chastity family so much more fascinating, because it's even more compelling imagining a scenario where Grace goes through positive character development and has to tell her parents that what they taught her is wrong. Can you imagine how hard that would be? Telling your parents, who have been nothing but loving and supportive to you for your whole life, that you're having doubts about what they taught you---and dealing with the very real possibility that all of that love and support could go away once that's out in the open? After years of having an open and honest relationship with them?
Would Karen and Mark not love Grace anymore if she was no longer her teacher's pet, straight-laced, prudish self? Would they kick her out? Would they try and change her? Or would they listen to her, and take the time to be better?
We don't know, because they're complicated. On the surface, they're stereotypical, but peel back the uber-Christian jargon and the 1950's sitcom attitude, and you have two individuals who clearly love each other, and their daughter, very much. Is that love conditional? Who the hell knows? Until Nick and Matt answer us, all we have is speculation!
And that's so! Damn! Fun!
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izartn · 3 months
Text
What's good about KnH is (besides its main char and bc of Maomao) the way it manages the power dynamics and what life was as a woman without falling into utter pessimism and powerlessness or full romanticism; which is a reason I usually avoid like the plague historical/pseudo-historical fiction with female leads.
Usually I'd be super skeeved out by the power Jinshi has over Maomao but the way the series presents both of them, their personalities and their agency (limited as it is for Maomao but it's there and it counts very much) it brings out all the best and interesting parts. I trust this series to get twisty with them bc it establishes so well Maomao own character and understanding of her situation and the ways Jinshi can and does or doesn't take advantage of his power over her.
Like. It's presented as a problematic element, but also unavoidable given their social situation and the world they live in, so I can trust given everything else this show has done when solving the mysteries and presenting us the situations of other women, that the romance will be treated with that same weight.
Honestly if you've read over what I like to read/watch in my tumblr you'll notice that twisty and even toxic/unhealthy dynamics are very much within my favorites, but it needs to be told in a certain way. And I'm much more difficult to satisfy when talking about het romance.
So to watch KnH, notice it's primarily about Maomao life and the various misteries/medicines/palace intrigue and the romance is playing second fiddle riffing on all the themes presented on the plot? And it's complex, and plays with messy power dynamics of gender and class, but never loses Maomao her personhood? Wow.
Also. Jinshi is so BL chara coded omg XD like, he's very clearly based on a kind of shojo ML prototype (hello tamaki suoh!) but it also pulls from BL in his case (nothing to do with their romances but I think of Yan Xiaohan re:his relationship with the imperial power, from Golden Terrace lol)
And yet his romance with Maomao wouldnt work near as well for what is trying to say if they weren't a man and woman (which I love in their case, is what has me fascinated). Yes~! Get into the meat of how fraught it is for a man and a woman to be together when the man has so much power over her. Get into it!!!!
He's so so messy and fun as a chara too. Sheltered and not at the same time, you really notice all the things he misses by way of his privilege of being a noble born man (and specifically royalty, last ep (19) left that very clear he was doing a ritual probably by proxy for the emperor and also bay exchanges people. Maomao noticed and buried that thought far far below her subconscious but we all now who he is lol). Like. The way he fumbles and ends up essentially harassing Maomao at the start sometimes, which is both played for comedic effect and also upsetting. Mmm.
Like I said, I like complexity.
Also that part when he buys Maomao contract and he goes to collect her and she's all dolled up, and the clear implication by everybody but our mains (who clearly prefer to live in willfully blind land although for Jinshi I think the subtext of what he's doing lands when he sees her) is that in any other case she'd be his concubine/side-wife. It's not their situation wight now, and she's put to work as a live-in maid and apothecary and put to study (he wants her to assist him in politics lol I love that, but also he's so so lonely) but it's very much what the palace rumor mill says.
LIKE. I love the messiness! It could go soooo badly, but it also could not and there's Maomao living at the edge bc despite herself and what she says, she wants more from life, but also as she says the rear palace isn't all that different from the high class brothels and ugh. That tension. She has to depend on the favor of a man as a women of low class but she also could lose her head! GAH. And then there's feels involved! Aaagh.
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plutonianeris · 4 months
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❝mars in the 6th house❞
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This is how mars in the 6th house has manifested for me.
With my 6th house mars placement I tend to make my daily activities into games or challenges. In my head I’m always like okay let’s see how long it takes me to do xyz. It makes me feel accomplished to get stuff down.
The downside to all of that is the stress I put on my body. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop and I keep pushing through until I feel burned out. Over the years I have gotten better and reminding myself to slow down and be more mindful throughout out the day.
I have always had very high paced busy jobs. The couple times where I had a more low stakes, relaxed job I would start off thinking I was going to enjoy it and then I would hate it. It would just make the day drag on so long. I like feeling challenged and when I am busy the day goes by faster. When I was around 15 I got my first job at a restaurant and it would get extremely busy and chaotic as fuck and honestly I loved it. The dining room would get so full, people were chattering all the time and we would all be in the back running around like chickens with their heads cut off, bumping into each other. Some of my coworkers would get frustrated which is fair but honestly it felt like a game to me. I worked there until I was 19. I have a higher paying, more “professional” job now but to this day that was the most fun job I’ve had.
I have worked at many different places, but the posts that state mars in the 6th house will give you coworkers being jealous and trying to start shit are 100% right. In every job I have had there were coworkers that saw me as threat or would try to start shit with me. I once worked at a hospital when I was in college and the girls working with me (Who were 2-3 years actually older than me) were so hateful and weird. They would constantly be looking at me, gossiping (or straight up trying to argue) and one time one of them lied to the supervisor saying I was slacking off when I wasn’t (literally trying to sabotage my job).
A male coworker there at the time told me they were just hating. I do believe that they were because they were being weird and messy but I also think he was trying to flirt with me..
The rumors are true about your coworkers crushing on you with this placement. And vice versa for me as well at times. It has gone from flirting with coworkers to me actually sleeping with a coworker once. However those times it was never anything serious, more like in the moment things. 6th house placements really know what it means to have a work husband/ wife lol.
another thing about jobs, when people try to start shit it use to get me riled up and I would let people get under my skin (when I was younger). NOW, I laugh and even though it still makes me annoyed, it makes me feel even more motivated to be the best at what I am doing.
I am also quick to leave a job once it has run its course. I am not that emotional when it comes to leaving and starting over somewhere else.
I lose weight very fast. I don’t mean in the sense that I have high metabolism. I mean that if gain weight and I decide I want to lose it, I do simple workouts and in a relatively short time its gone. Its not an unhealthy or harmful way. It makes sense considering mars is action and speed and the 6th house is daily routines and my body and health. Honestly if you have this placement and you are stressing over meal plans or planning specific workouts, just do simple ones and walk more and it wont be as hard as you thought.
I do have a high libido, especially when I am in a relationship. Having a healthy and satisfying sexual relationship is important to me.
I don’t get sick very often and when I do, I fight it off in 1-3 days.
I can be very impulsive in my daily and routines, sometimes harshly. Like I might brush my hair very roughly without realizing or apply lotion onto my skin in a heedless manner. That is something that I did not like and I try to remind myself to treat my body with gentle hands.
My impulsive behavior was worse when I was kid. For example, if I could not get a necklace off of me or bracelet, it would make me so angry and kind of panicked, I would rip it off even if it meant it might break I didn’t care. Me doing what I wanted and feeling free mattered more than whatever I was wearing. This was however another thing I tried to improve on.
Growing up, in my daily routines people use to be mad aggressive towards me as well. Don’t get me wrong, I knew when I was annoying or pushing someones buttons, but the random spurts of anger at me would be very unwarranted.
I feel like at times I can be very guarded as well or tense. When I am angry, I feel it first in my chest and then my stomach will hurt. I don’t like getting worked up because although I can emotionally regulate, it still takes my body a while to calm down. When I was a teenager it would take a long ass time of me practically seething or cursing. Now after a couple deep breaths I’m good.
Mars is aggressive and the 6th house is my health and body and I have definitely taken my anger out on myself as well. My home life had always been very chaotic as a kid and I started self harming at 12 years old and then I stopped when I was around 17 years old.
On a more positive note, I love taking care of my body now. I would never treat it like my enemy or be so careless with myself like I use to. I like working out. I like feeling strong. And also theres a bonus of feeling hot as fuck when I am naked. When Megan thee stallion said, “ When I'm in the gym I think about bitches that I'm shitting on,” I really felt that 💋🔥
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patriamrealm · 5 months
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Few questions about our favorite Train Twins.
1. What is the relationship between the Submas Twins and Drayden?
2. Thoughts on Drayton, Drayden's confirmed Grandson (I am just confusedby him)?
3. What do you think Drayton thinks of the Train Twins?
Bonus question if Drayton reacts to Ingo's disappearance in a way that fits his character?
Ok now that I've actually played the DLC and met Drayton I'm more confident answering this.
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So Drayden is the twins bio uncle turned Father when he took them in after their parents were no longer able to care for them/ He had a bit of a time with some toddlers from Sinnoh that barely spoke Unoven and then gained aspects way way earler than normal. By this point his kids were pretty well grown anyway.
2) As for Drayton, from what I can tell from him is that he's pretty nice if a bit lazy. Caring and encouraging with a bit of a manipulative streak. Not in a bad way more in a he seems to just not be good at outright saying what he wants. He's also does not seem very good at "manipulating" as is. And another thing is that he seems to have a lot of expectations and pressure on his shoulders to essentially live up to his family legacy which may contribute to his being held back 3 years at the BB Academy.
As for aspects mmmm I don't see him as being the type to have actually fully evolved, or at all. Not 100% sure what he should be but I kinda like the idea of him having horsea aspects, fits his hair honestly.
3) Relationship wise with the twins, biologically they are cousins but function more as older brothers/silly uncles being only 5 years older than him. He doesn't see them super often but often enough for a decently close family. Family get togethers, visits, birthdays, holidays, ect.
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But also they kind of are just another example in his family to live up to, another expectation on his shoulders. They're punctual, strong, driven, fully evolved, and battle facility heads which are near champion level trainers. Just two other examples in a long line to live up to.
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In the same breath they're incredibly silly and always super encouraging of anything. If he said he wanted to be just a baker or something he's well aware they'd encourage it 100%
Bonus) Now as for his reaction to Ingo's disappearance,
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I think he'd likely be at school when that happened, likely got a phone call that Ingo has been missing for a few days now and hasn't been found. Which is upsetting.
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I can see him being uncharacteristically antsy and worried for a while waiting to hear any news. To the point that his friends are worried about him. But ultimately winds up accepting Ingo is likely dead after a month or two of no one finding him. Drayton can't exactly do anything to help and he does still have school. He is likely still hopeful that there will be news eventually, good or bad but dwelling on something he can't change is ultimately pointless and overall unhealthy.
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yak-leather-whips · 4 months
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So this latest adventuring party at least for now puts to rest the idea that Kristen is going to give up being a cleric, and honestly? I think thats a much better thing for her character.
Cuz I get how a lot of people would feel that was a good choice for her, but if I’m being honest, it always seemed like…kind of a cop out to me. Like, to me it would kind of symbolize her reverting back to step one of her journey. Which is fine, you know, progress isn’t linear and all, but at this point, I think Kristen has made it to the point in her journey where she starts focusing on what she DOES want, rather than on what she doesn’t.
Like, for me, and also for a lot of other people, the first step on our journey out of religion was defining ourselves by what we’re against. Which, I wanna be clear, isn’t a bad thing! It’s a necessary step for a lot of people coming out of the sorts of all-consuming religious high control groups. We all know the stereotype of the “New Atheist” who thinks being against religion is the edgiest, most radical position anyone could possible hold. They make it the center of their identity, and while it is a stereotype, it also represents a real stage that a lot of people go through on their journey. This isn’t just true of religion, it’s a stage of development we all go through. Its a great way to identify problems.
But…if that’s the only step you take…you might find it a lot less fulfilling of a journey than you anticipated, because identifying problems is not the same as solving them. Like Kristen says at the end of sophomore year, doubt is a tool, not a belief. And its an important tool, but it can’t be the ONLY tool, cuz once you find something you actually want to pursue and commit to, whether that be a relationship or a community or a project, you may find that you don’t actually know how to do that in a healthy way. You’ve identified that what you learned from the group is unhealthy, but learning how to leave doesn’t teach you how to build something new.
For a lot of people the journey they take in leaving a religious group involves a lot of exploring other belief systems of various kinds, and most people eventually find something else that speaks to them. Whether that be another religion, or a spiritual practice, or a philosophical framework, or magic, or the power of friendship, or communism, or self-help podcasts, or a combination of the above. Very few people stay in that place of skeptical detachment forever. But even once you find something that you do want to pursue, learning how to invest in that takes a lot of work, a lot of trial and error, and at some point its gonna require you to decide you want to stay and do the work rather than running away.
It seems like Kristen is in that stage, where she has found something she wants, something she really does care about and believe in, and for the first time since leaving the church, she is having to make the choice to double down; to invest in what she believes in and work through the problems, rather than detaching herself at the first sign of discomfort.
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evillemons · 2 months
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WHAT A RELATIONSHIP WITH JUNGKOOK WOULD BE LIKE (JK pt. 2)
~ based on his ideal type as described in part 1, continued into part 3. Masterlist here.
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• I do imagine JK as having gone through a fuckboy phase before finding “the one”, taking home random women that came onto him frequently. HOWEVER, if he really likes someone, he would revert back to the shy, slightly intimidated romantic cutie that he is on the inside.
• He really would be obsessed with her and think about her all the time.
• Would attempt to woo her with flowers, romantic dates, moving furniture into her new apartment (drooling over this visual), and being excessively eager to help with anything she needed.
• He wouldn’t stop until she fell for him (think of the Seven music video).
• He’s aloof and unserious on the outside which may cause her to feel reluctant in the beginning, but she would inevitably give in to those big, sparkly, adoring eyes and polite demeanor.
• Seriously, who can say no to those puppy eyes.
• I imagine he would like more activity-oriented dates like attending a local fair or hiking. Games together, too, when the relationship is more established (which he would purposefully lose to make her happy (which is saying a lot considering how much he loves to win)).
• I can see him wanting to assume the “traditional” masculine relationship role of paying for dates, picking her up at her door, serving as the protector etc.
• Despite who’s looking, he would grab her waist and sit her in his lap, put his arms around her, or kiss her neck whenever he felt like it (almost a little territorially).
• Lots of teasing and little pranks or jokes.
• Would fall asleep with his head in her lap during a movie after working himself to death all week.
• He can honestly be a little bit of a brat, but is too cute and sweet to stay mad at for too long.
• Weekly gym dates (to which he would probably be in awe of at the sight of her in fitted clothes).
• Jungkook is one pretty man, but god would he be a high maintenance boyfriend.
• He requires a lot of attention and reassurance, and he would no doubt get jealous easily.
• Out of all the members, I see him as the most confrontational if someone came onto her. He might punch someone if he’s really angry.
• God forbid someone makes her cry… prepare to die.
• Arguments between them could get loud and quite heated, but afterwards he would come to her meek and slightly teary eyed, telling her how sorry he is and how much he loves her.
• I’m not sure where he would fall on the spectrum in terms of publicizing the relationship. He would receive the most backlash by fans for sure, but I also don’t think he would care what others have to say if he really loves her.
• Similar to V, there could be potential for an unhealthy dynamic given his lack of experience at “normal” life, so she would need to be patient and mature with him and they would need to be able to communicate well.
• Although he can be a little needy or possessive, when he falls for somebody, I think he would be incredibly sweet, loving, and loyal and want to give her the world.
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