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#through no fault of his to be fair tho
randomnsfwsideblog · 4 months
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Dreamt about sucking the dick of my high school crush. Apparently I straight up fell asleep in the middle of masturbating, so that might have had something to do with it, but that doesn't explain why it had to be him of all people.
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atrwriting · 6 months
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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
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hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
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little-cereal-draws · 3 months
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If Ghosts had a more mature rating and was able to do more creepy ghost powers/death side effects:
Pat, Humphrey, and Thomas are eternally bleeding. Their clothes are wet, their hand gets wet from touching it, they'll leave trails of blood down the hall, etc. The blood on their hand or the floor disappears pretty quickly as their ghost powers make them reset but their clothes are always soaked
Thomas's whole stomach and the top of his pants are bloodstained. Pat's is all located on his shoulders/necktie and has the most obvious stains due to the color difference of his clothes. There are a few drops here and there down his sleeves and chest. It's pretty heavy because of the major arteries the neck that would've been punctured. Humphrey's is by fair the heaviest and is all over the front of his torso. Like the whole thing. When he died he fell face down into the growing puddle of blood that would've been pooling from his stump
Fanny can turn her head frighteningly far. There's a sick crunching sound that happens when she does this and it always sends shivers down Alison's spine even after years of hearing it. The other ghosts have joked and compared Fanny to an owl because of this and she chews them out every time
Pat coughs a lot because he's got blood stuck in his throat. He'll randomly have a huge coughing fit, cough a bunch of blood into his hand and then go "Oh no. Anyways..." He also has trouble breathing and has to take breaks to sit down during physical activities like dancing or running. It annoying but not too much of a hindrance to his daily life; it's like having asthma or allergies. The blood can make his voice sound a little weird sometimes too, like he's gurgling smth while he talks. He just clears his throat and keeps going
The plague ghosts vomit up bile every once in a while. It's black, steaming, and putrid but disappears almost instantly
Kitty also throws up when she's excited... which is a lot. She also gets chills, lightheadedness, fevers, and uncontrollable shaking. There's not much the other ghosts or Alison can do to help her besides sitting with her/trying to distract her. She'll lay down and try to breathe through it while Alison reads her a story or the Captain infodumps abt smth or Robin holds her hand. Sometimes she falls asleep, sometimes she doesn't. She's always better after a few hours tho
Fanny gets really bad migraines. Alison's theory is that they're caused by her broken vertebra. Fanny doesn't particularly care why they happen. When they happen, she's in an even worse mood than usual so it's best to steer clear of her. She doesn't have the energy to yell at ppl but will remember the slightest fault and wait until she's better to go on a lecture. Again, there's not much Alison or the other ghosts can do to help besides let her lay down and try to be quiet
Mary and Robin's skin peels off. It's white and flaky and leaves raw red spots underneath. The dead skin disappears once it leaves them but the skin underneath is never healthy and flakes off too
Both Robin and Mary smell like burning flesh but only Mary is detectable by living people. Robin only smells when he uses his powers. It really puts a lot of the ghosts off, especially newer ones
Robin's body also gets affected by his powers in other ways. If it's something small like flickering a light, his hair will stand on end. Something bigger like turning a light on/off or flickering a more powerful light will cause him to spasm. It's usually just his arms and wears off after a minute. Smth really big like redirecting that lightning bolt for Mike will be the equivalent of him actually getting hit w the lightning. His body seizes up, falls over unresponsive and twitching for several minutes, but he's always ok in the end. Alison and the other ghosts get very worried but he walks it off
Julian and the Captain both feel remnants of their heart attacks. Shortness of breath, tingling/numbness in the arms, dizziness, heart palpitations, etc. They both choose to keep it a secret from the others and cover it up but if they're particularly stressed abt smth, they'll start getting chest pains which is harder to cover up. The Captain has excused himself from many social situations to go sit on the floor and try to breathe through the pain and calm his heart. Robin's the only one who knows about Julian's because it happened once while they were hanging out. Logically, they both know they can't die again but it's still scary
Mary likes to sit in the lake because even tho she can't feel it like she would if she was alive, the cold water is soothing on her burns
All the ghosts have days where they just lay abt bc the pain is too much to move. From who does it the most to who does it the least it goes Mary, Humphrey, Pat, Fanny, Thomas, Kitty, Robin, the Captain, Julian
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captainfern · 10 months
Note
I NEED more Voyurism (? It's late and idk how to spell it in general💀) fics. Could you possibly do a fic with reader × Price and they're caught by Soap or Gaz and they possibly join in or something?
It's vague af but maybe just something with exhibitionism/voyurism. Being heard from another room, fucking quietly in the ssme room at a safe house maybe. I just ask they aren't caugh by Ghost. He's babygirl and all but he has so many fics i need more Gaz and Soap in my life
Ty!!😚
-🌻🐾
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Rock Bottom
voyeur!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader
[“Rock Bottom” by KISS]
[18+]
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• summary - you've always had trouble keeping quiet with price. it's not soap's fault he can hear how pretty you sound lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 840 • warnings - gn!reader [hole is used], voyeur!soap but is it tho?? idk he listens through a wall 😭, m!masturbation, you and price be fucking while soap listens, descriptions of sex acts, strong language
ok ok i'm sorry i didn't write him joining in i just couldn't get into the groove of writing that idea BUT i'm all for a little horny pining and desperation 🙏
and leave my bby ghost alone it's not his fault he's sexy LMAO
ty for the request gorgeous <3
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Soap knew it was wrong.
His thoughts about you. His little crush. The way his heart quickened at the littlest amount of attention you gave him. The way his cock hardened when you flounced around base in your tight training gear. The way he fucked his fist every night to the thoughts of you.
He felt ashamed.
Even more so when Price would keep you company at night. Keep you warm at night. Keep you stuffed full at night.
Soap could hear it. Of course he could, he wasn't deaf.
Your bedroom was right next to his. The walls were relatively thin and your bed was directly beside it. Soap's was too. Sometimes he thought about how you were technically laying side by side, but separated by that stupid wall.
So on many occasions, Soap found himself laying flat on his back against his bed, blankets pooled beside his legs because he was overheating. Overheating listening to you getting absolutely railed through the wall.
It just wasn't fair.
He tried to ignore the fact it was your captain fucking you into your bed. He imagined himself in his captain's place. Stuffing your tight hole with his fat cock; fucking you rough into the mattress with your arse in the air; or maybe letting you ride him until he came deep inside you; or maybe you'd sit on his face and let him eat you out like you fucking deserved.
He found himself pulling his cock out of his boxers. Painfully hard, tip sensitive and red, pearls of precum dripping down his length. He'd spit into his hand, feeling even dirtier than he already felt, and then grip his cock hard at the base.
He'd listen as your pretty noises filtered through the wall. Soft whimpers, stretched whines, airy moans. Sometimes they were even more muffled— Soap imagined your face buried into your pillows as you were fucked hard from behind; or maybe you had a cock down your throat as you fucked yourself with your fingers.
He'd listen to the external noises that sounded deafening in his ears. Creaking bed frame, gentle slamming of the headboard, the slap of skin on skin. Soap imagined your pretty face as your hole was filled over and over again, body shunting up the mattress, your fingernails scratching and leaving bright red marks.
Fuck, he thought as he stroked himself. The glide of his hand was made easier by the copious ivory beads of precum rolling from his tip.
You were moaning particularly loud tonight. Your pretty voice carried through the wall and directly into Soap's ears as he fucked his fist, hips bucking as his pace quickened.
By now, Soap knew what you sounded like when you were close. It's a shame he didn't know what you looked like, but he could use his imagination.
Your moans of pleasure came out longer and airier, as though you were becoming breathless. They were more frequent, paired with desperate whines of please, please, please's. You released soft whimpers that had Soap's cock jumping in his hand, and a string of mumbled curses passing through his lips.
You sounded perfect.
He screwed his eyes shut and pictured your face. Maybe your eyes would roll back as he hit that spot inside you; maybe your eyes would go glossy with tears while he gripped the back of your head, forcing you to take his cock deeper into your mouth; maybe you'd bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan while he came deep inside your tight hole.
"Fucking hell—" Soap whispered desperately into the air of his room.
He was getting close, still bucking his aching cock into the vice grip of his fist. He imagined it being your tight hole, or the suction of your mouth. He whimpered at that, breaths coming in pants.
"M'gonna cum, sir— m'gonna cum—" You moaned quietly, but Soap heard you. Of course he fucking did.
Soap whimpered, all breathy and whiny. "Cum for me— ah, f-fuck— come on, cum for me—"
It's like you were listening to him. Soap knew you came when you released the prettiest sound of the night— keening and desperate, followed by a shuddered exhale.
You went silent for a moment, and Soap knew Price was kissing you while he rutted into you.
Soap was so close.
Your sounds began again— whimpering, soft groans. You were verging on overstimulation. You just wanted to be filled up. Poor baby.
"Mmm please, sir," you whined. "Cum for me, please."
"Fucking hell," Soap hissed between gritted teeth. "Coming, love, m'coming—"
He restricted the groan in his mouth by gritting his teeth harder. He came violently, his hips bucking and his head tossed back against his pillows. Hot spurts sputtered across his abdomen. He came so hard that a splatter dashed across his chest, nearing his collarbone. He whispered your name, over and over, until his cock softened in his hand, sticky with his spend.
Maybe it was the post-nut clarity but fucking hell.
He'd hit rock bottom with this.
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Text
Astarion having to work his way up to causal physical affection
Pronouns: none! I used second person! (I’m still gonna tag x male reader tho because highkey unless specifically stated I don’t write with fem readers in mind)
TW: nothing explicit, but Cazador is mentioned and there’s a very brief mentions of creeps. There’s also one (1) brainworm joke. Talk about being touch repulsed at the end
Type: HC’s!
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-Ok so I’ve seen a lot of people argue both sides of this
-“Oh he definitely jumps on it” or “it’s a very long and very slow process”
-You’re both right, actually.
-At first, he won’t even be the one to do it himself
-I feel like he would be afraid
-Afraid that if he tries you’ll take it as something other then innocent
-Which logically he KNOWS you won’t. All he has to do is ask or explain himself
-But that’s not how anxiety works. Logic is long gone, a distant memory, a blip on the horizon-
-So he waits for you to initiate just like with the hug
-All while silently wishing you would
-If you’re not the causally affectionate type I feel like he would try to drop hints without actually saying it
-Maybe while you guys are walking he puts one hand in his pocket and leaves the other out, open, not fiddling with anything
-Just kind of letting his hand hang there and hope it’s obvious that it’s “perfect for holding” (his thoughts)
-Maybe he’ll causally comment on how busy the market is and how he hopes you guys don’t loose each other
-His eyes snapping over to you to see if you picked up on what he was trying to get at
-If you do then he’s overjoyed! Very proud of himself for his little stunt (even if it was needlessly complicated and he could have just asked)
-If you don’t he tries to seem unaffected. Acts like he doesn’t care but gets vaguely pouty
-He’s not mad AT you of course. He’s self aware enough to realize that it’s not your fault he can’t make himself ask, but it still hurts
-Pulling you back from danger (or even just so you don’t bump into someone/something) and pulling you against his chest in a very bad attempt at a sort of hug
-“You really need to watch your step, darling. Less you make an utter fool of yourself.”-He says while STILL holding onto you
-If you go down this route it’s gonna be a long ride. Sorry, love
-On the flip side, if you ARE causally affectionate then it makes things run a lot smoother
-Now I’m going off the assumption that you at least try to ask before doing things ok?
-Like maybe NOT when you casually grab his hand to drag him through a crowd, but before you hug him and shit
-Consent is important after all
-He gets VERY happy with all these little displays of affection
-He might act smug about it tho. Call you clingy or needy. Bro still has a rep to uphold ight?
-Either way though, all of this works up to HIM starting to test the waters on being the one giving the affection
-If it’s because you’re not getting it, and he can’t voice his needs properly, then he’ll have a “fine. I’ll do it myself” moment
-Anxiety can only have a hold on him for so long before the touch starvation wins
-If you DO get it, then it’s because all these little acts of affection are encouraging HIM to try as well
-Either way we get to this point don’t worry
-At FIRST? This seems like it’s gonna be slow too
-He has to steel his nerves and take a breath before quickly moving to grab ur hand in his own
-(Can you tell I’ve been thinking about hand holding?)
-And if you jump or startle-which is fair I would too. Mans hands are ICE-he’ll immediately drop it and try to play it off
-If you try and comfort him, or just grab his hand again, he’ll count it as a win
-If you let him play it off he will. But he’ll be cringing to himself when everyone else is asleep/trancing
-“Hey remember that embarrassing things you just did?”-Astarion’s brain(worm)
-Yeah it was a rocky start
-But yk, he’s never been one to back down for long
-Kind of had that mindset ingrained into him unfortunately
-(cazador when I catch you! When I CATCH YOU CAZADOR-)
-So he tired again. This time with better results!
-And he goes from there. Experimenting with little touches and shit
-Holding hands, holding onto your arm, moving your hand to hold onto HIS arm, leaning his head against you.
-Now this is where the “he definitely jumps on it” part comes in
-Once he finds his footing he RUNS with this shit, man
-It’s like all his anxiety was thrown out the window and now sits outside next to his logic
-Bro is linking his elbow with yours if you’re walking anywhere with a crowd just saying
-Idk why but I KNOW he’s into that specifically. I can feel it in my BONES
-Always seems to have a hand on your back or your legs are always touching
-Mans insists on sitting RIGHT next to you btw
-He is also a big fan of cuddling. Watch out tho you might catch hypothermia from being so close to him (/j)
-Now of course, there’s still some issues
-If you ask him to back off he will. He understands what it’s like to be overwhelmed by touch (and not in a sexy way)
-But ouchie that hurt a lil bit
-Like, again, he’s NOT mad. Maybe just silently disappointed
-And then he would feel VERY guilty for feeling like that
-You respect HIS boundaries! Why is it hard for him to do the same!?
-Please talk to him about it. Reassurance is needed. He’s terrified of being the very same creeps he had to endure
-And even if you don’t ask him to back off there’s still the reality that he just
-He has bad days, and he has worse days
-healing isn't linear
-There will be days where touch makes his skin crawl
-There will be times when he wakes up fine with it, maybe even craving it, but when you give it he suddenly feels the urge to vomit
-And for as much progress as he’s made old habits die hard
-He’s still working on voicing his needs and the reality is it’s likely he won’t tell you when he’s feeling like this
-At least not at first
-He might try to endure it for your sake. Maybe even because HE was the one who wanted it and he feels like he can’t back out now
-You would understand if he did. You’ve told him that. But again, anxiety beats logic
-Maybe you pick up on it. Maybe you don’t
-If you do then talk to him. Drop the touching and remind him it’s ok to change his mind
-If you don’t then he might snap on you
-Not on purpose, really. But it was building up so fast
-Normally he’s so GOOD at hiding these feelings, but because it’s YOU it’s suddenly so much harder
-If he does though? Please be patient with him
-He might storm off, he might ask YOU to leave, or he might sit there
-No matter what happens though he’ll apologize when he’s thinking clearly again
-If you got angry back at him you apologize too (or at least I’d hope you would)
-You talk about it. He admits he was feeling icky and that it really wasn’t your fault
-And while yes he was technically the one to lack the communication skills, it’s not really his fault either. Bro is only JUST now realizing he can say no without getting physical consequences
-You both mutually agree to blame it on Cazador and laugh
-^Said as a joke to break the tension but also actually literally fuck that guy hope he rots
-But in the end you guys talk and move on
-He works on talking about his feelings more, and in the mean time you’re there to listen and offer a hug when needed (or when wanted)
-He’s trying
-And he couldn’t be more grateful you’re there with him through it
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Hello ok so I wrote this at 5-6 am please lemmie know if I make spelling mistakes. I am dyslexic and very tired
Also: @the-stage-manager (lemmie know if you don’t want me to keep tagging you btw :] )
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
Note
Can i request follower!Narinder x follower!reader who's kind heart person? Like they always want to help other even tho they rude to them,and they forgive them eventually but Narinder cannot handle see​ing his spouse being disrespectful.
I want this to be oneshot angst/fluff pls thank you and have a nice day/night🥰
"How goes...your marriage..?"
"Hmph..hello to you too, sister." Narinder rolled his eyes as he sat by the pond with a bowl of stew, hoping for some peace and quiet.
But of course, ever since his siblings arrived into Lamb's cult and learned that he was betrothed to a mortal..he hasn't known such things.
He could tolerate Heket at the very least, since Kallamar was off flirting with gods-know-who, Leshy was on a missionary, and Shamura was reading their usual books.
"It fairs well. I sometimes find it funny.."
"Hm?"
"Shamura surely couldn't have predicted that I would become wedded to a measly mortal..let alone find myself in my vessel's cult. I was to sacrifice them and all of Lamb's followers. Yet when I ended up here..[y/n] was the first to reach out a hand and help me find my place." The black cat huffed. "When others mocked me..they defended my name day and night despite my past transgressions, willing to lookover the fact I once thought of them as nothing but a pawn in my game."
"You've..gotten soft..brother.." Heket lightly teased, earning her a scowl from him. However, something in the distance caught her eyes, and she tensed. "Go."
"What? Go away, you mean?" He blinked in confusion, taken aback by her command as he sneered. "I open my heart up to you, and you have the nerve to-?!"
"[Y/n]." She simply pointed, and he followed her gaze to the drinkhouse where you were trying to help a drunken follower stand on their own two feet.
While you could normally handle that sort of thing, something about it didn't sit right with Narinder. They were acting rather belligerent, babbling nonsense and causing a barrel to topple over, all while refusing to surrender their empty glass.
Only then he remember you were the bartender for today and were trying to close up shop.
He got up, deciding to let Heket finish his stew, and began walking over. His footsteps were silent as to not draw attention to himself.
He wanted to observe how you'd handle the situation.
"Please, go rest." You gently tried to urge the inebriated follower. "You've had enough."
"Don't touch meeeeeee...I ain't-" A hiccup interrupted them as their face became redder, words so slurred you could hardly understand them. "I ain't gonna..go anywherrre.."
"I'm afraid you must, I'm sorry-"
"Nooooo...I don't wanna be handled by some...idiot who slept with the One Who Waits!"
You froze. "Pardon?"
"Whatdya see in that guy anyway? He haaaates us all..he was..gonna kill us, right? And Lamby, too?" They grumbled, now sounding completely serious and irate. "Why don't you wanna be with Lamby? Or me? Or someone who isn't a monster...do ya hate us, too?"
"No, I don't hate anyone." You tried to reassure them. "But it's rude to speak of Narinder that way."
"But his stupid siblings..they...they hurt us so much because of him!" Tears began filling their eyes, their expression growing angrier. "Why did they have to come? What they did to us...was 'cuz of HIM! EVERYTHING is his fault!!!"
"I hear your pain, my friend. I really do. But Lamb believed-"
"WHAT ABOUT WHAT I BELIEVE?!" They raised their empty glass in a threatening manner, and you flinched, taking your hands off their robe in preparation for an attack.
But before anything could happen-
A black paw grabbed their wrist, claws digging into their flesh. Not enough to draw blood, but just enough to make it hurt and divert their attention to a certain angry feline.
"How irritating.." A trio of red eyes pierced through Narinder's veil as he scowled down at the follower. "I don't know whether you're more annoying now or when you're sober. You may scorn Lamb to your heart's content..but to threaten my spouse is a line you'll regret ever crossing. Now go lie down before I make you."
With a nod and a quiet whimper, they shakily set the glass down on the counter. And the moment he let their wrist go, they took off stumbling all the way to their shelter.
You frowned a little. "Darling, it's my job to lead them to-"
"They'll find their own way. Whatever they break can be fixed in no time." Narinder dismissed as he went to clean off the glass, while you plugged up the beer kegs for the night.
But as he rubbed and twisted the rag, he began thinking about what might've happened had he not intervened when he did..and it only made him angrier.
What if the glass was still full and they decided to spill it?
What if they threw it at your head?
What if they left tiny shards in your flesh and caused blood to pour down your face?
What if-?
*crack*
A sudden sharp pain in his paw pad made him wince slightly, realizing that the cup broke apart, a piece of glass now embedded in his own flesh.
Great.
"Oh no, let me take care of that for you, love."
He perked up at your voice, seeing you pull out a pair of tweezers and a roll of bandages from your robe pocket. "I can do it myself, you know."
"And risk getting more blood on the counter?" You pointed out the red splatters on the oak. "Heavens no."
Narinder chuffed, eventually turning his paw over and allowing you to tend to his injury. "Why do you allow them to speak to you that way? And being drunk is no excuse. They knew damn well what they were saying. They've disproved of our relationship from the start."
"So have plenty of others, including your own siblings, Nari. They'll come around eventually. I have all the faith in them."
"[Y/n]..they almost smashed a glass over your head. And I stopped them from doing so." He growled, frustrated at your lack of outrage. "You are content in letting such disrespect continue without punishment? Without consulting Lamb? If we cannot do anything about it, surely they can."
"I will let it go this one time. But only because I believe they won't do it again. I think they learned their lesson thanks to you." You simply reassured him, before you finished wrapping the gauze around his paw.
With a smile, you brought it up to your lips and kissed it, eyes flickering up to him. "You needn't worry, my darling. I am okay."
"...I'm not worrying about anything." Narinder scoffed, having difficulty hiding the blush beneath his fur. "I simply refuse to tolerate imbeciles who make obscene assumptions about us, thinking there'd be no repercussions."
"Of course, but in any case..thank you for coming to my defense."
"Hm.."
"Now come." You gently tugged him away from the drinkhouse, looping your arm around his. "I believe we have some farming plots to attend to. I promised Lamb I'd work on them in Leshy's steed, but what say...you pick out the seeds you wish to plant this time?"
Narinder's ears perked. "Hah. I thought you were about to tell me to gather fertilizer." He chuckled quietly. "You are too good to me sometimes."
"Well, I figured you could use a break. Come, come!"
And so he followed you to the farming area. While he could sense Heket still staring at him, knowing her grin was smug as ever, he didn't care about what she was thinking--or what anybody in the cult was thinking for that matter.
All that he cared about right now was vegetation would prosper best on this warm spring day.
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inkykeiji · 1 year
Note
DAZAI AKU AND READER DYNAMIC AGAIN 😧 not a request but i’m wondering how dazai would punish aku and if reader would be involved like forcing aku to watch as he touches them or only allowing aku to eat the come from readers 🐱 after he nuts in it. 🥱
anonnnn thank u so much for this i have SO much to say oh my gosh
tw: mentions of caning + physical assault, daddy kink, overstimulation, noncon, cuckholding kinda???, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, toxic relationships, cum eating, honestly Daddy dazai is just brutal. 
words: 1.1k
SO! the punishment that i had in mind at the end of that piece specifically was actually purely physical—it was caning! really fucking brutal caning that borders on physical assault. i’m not gonna talk about it much tho because HEHE between u and i, i am currently writing a lil piece that deals with like,,, the aftermath??? and the punishment itself is kinda gotten into in that oneshot so c: 
BUT I LOVE BOTH OF THESE IDEAS SOOOOO MUCH and i could totally see Daddy dazai definitely using either of these as punishment so let’s get into that because i have many Thoughts!!! 
okay first of all forcing akutagawa to eat reader out only after dazai has cum in her/you is so sick and sadistic i love it SO much oh my goddd especially since you know he’d be more than eager to do it, to please Daddy, to receive that precious praise dazai is so goddamn stingy with giving him. so he’d be so fucking enthusiastic as he sucks and slurps Daddy’s thick cream from your cunt, making a real mess of his face, cheeks and chin glistening oh-so-prettily with your and Daddy’s combined essence, tongue unfurling from his mouth to clumsily lick at his own stained skin, anywhere and everywhere he can possibly reach, slick muscle flexing as he stretches it as far as he can, desperate not to waste a single drop. 
and he’s holding your thighs open with such force that his fingertips are sinking into your flesh, nails carving deep crescents in their place, bruises blossoming beneath his grip, sowed deep in the tissues. your muscles ache from how unbelievably wide he’s stretched them, but he won’t let you close them, won’t even allow you a moment of rest at all, a man on a mission—your comfort doesn’t fucking matter, not when Daddy has a demand that needs to be fulfilled.
he eats you out until you’re fucking spotless, not a single ounce of Daddy’s cum anywhere, not even splattered on your inner thighs, because akutagawa, good boy that he is, sopped that up with his tongue, too. he’s almost obsessive with it, eating you until you cum again, until he’s sure your juices have flushed every last bit of Daddy from your body and into akutagawa’s tummy, safe and sound and where it should be. he’ll get in trouble for that, too, of course—you were never supposed to cum, he was never supposed to make that happen, and it’ll be his fault for allowing it, for procuring it, no matter how he tries to spin it. he knows better to argue with Daddy once Daddy’s made up his mind, but he just can’t seem to help it when it comes to situations involving you, whiny complaints spilling from his lips before his brain can even sift through them, voice stringy and thin as he cries about how it isn’t fair! and she should’ve stopped it herself! and it isn’t his fault she can’t control herself! 
at the end of it all, though, he’s proud of himself irregardless, proud of the stellar job he did eating you clean. and even though he scolds him callously, Daddy’s proud of him, too <3
ON THE OTHER HAND, i also really love the idea of Daddy dazai fucking reader over and over and over again and not only making akutagawa watch but also instructing akutagawa to not touch himself at all, in any way (and yes, this includes not shifting and twitching his hips up, rolling them into the air in tiny, pathetic little motions so the head of his cock grinds against the tight denim of his jeans). i love it, because it’s a double whammy in so many ways: in addition to the obvious, he also has to watch as his Daddy fucks the favourite, he has to watch as his Daddy plays with his toy, feeling left out and neglected and lonely. he has to watch as Daddy pushes his toy well past the point of pleasure and into a whole ton of pain, easily reminding akutagawa in that infuriatingly charming, slightly breathless voice that your pain is his fault (v touya-nii of him LMAO).
at first, he acts as if he doesn’t care, and he tells Daddy so, the words spit from his lips with such derision it sours his face, features screwed up tightly. it doesn’t matter to him, he says. he doesn’t give a fuck if she’s in pain, he swears. 
except by the third orgasm you’re sobbing out his name, dainty fingers grappling for him in cute little claws that scratch at the mattress in their haste and leave little divots in their wake, sheets ripping audibly, and ryuu! ryuu, ryuu, it hurts, make Daddy stop! 
but this, this pure emotional torment, is a part of his punishment, too, he realizes. 
because then Daddy’s shushing you, gentle and sweet and all of the things he never is with akutagawa, large palms cushioning your sweaty cheeks as he murmurs to you, voice silk and syrup. 
you can do it for Daddy, can’t you, sweetheart? you can cum one more for me, right? you want to be good for me, don’t you? 
and that hurts, too. watching Daddy be so fucking nice to you, watching daddy dole out praise to you the way he doles out punishment to akutagawa. it isn’t until dazai’s sure he’s fully broken akutagawa in every conceivable way that he finally stops, takes the shivering, snivelling man into his arms and onto his lap, akutagawa’s chest shuddering beneath the force of the sobs he keeps trying so desperately to shove down, long lashes scraggly and weighted with fat tears.
you did good, baby, he’s whispering as slim fingers pop the button of akutagawa’s jeans, hand wiggling beneath the material to pull his cock free a moment later. Daddy’s good baby boy, so precious, so fucking pathetic, aren’t you?
yes, yes, yes, he’s sobbing into dazai’s neck as Daddy strokes his aching cock, hard and fast right at the top, thumb grinding little circles into the slit. his words are nothing more than tangles of spit oozing all over Daddy’s skin as they leak, uncontrollably so, from his lips, but that’s alright, Daddy doesn’t mind the mess today, humming out condescending coos into inky strands as he encourages akutagawa to cum all over Daddy’s fist.
and, oh, he’s so fucking hopeless for his Daddy, cumming after a mere three pulls of his cock, thick and sticky and so much, it’s so much for such a skinny boy, almost embarrassingly, disgustingly so, don’t you think ryuu-kun? 
of course. of course it is; he’s disgusting and deplorable and so fucking desperate, but he did it; he’s Daddy’s good boy, and that’s all that matters <3 
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babydollmarauders · 8 months
Text
MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 3)
notes: another short part, because it seems like these devils website streamed games are harder for me to write for? so sorry!
au masterlist
y/ndevils00
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liked by nicohischier, ehaula, and 218,966 others
y/ndevils00 greetings and salutations! welcome to another preseason recap! as always, strap in and get ready!
just a reminder that as this is preseason, not all of satan’s favorite children played! tonight we had swiss cheese, swiss roll, uncle haulaback girl, uncle lizard again, best friend number 1, V², and ginger snap!
we started off the game by giving up a goal to the annoying orange’s 😐
BUT lizard man tied us up almost halfway through the 1st! POP OFF, UNCLE CURTSY!
captain whore was jailed tonight for being too cute, and ya know what? i think it’s fair! make him stay there!
not long after cap’s penalty, we got a goal from holtzy! giving us a 2-1 lead!
but then ham sammich also got a penalty for tripping!
we made it almost all the way through 3rd with our lead and i was really looking forward to going home! until one of those orange fucks tied up the game 🫠
i had a few choice words for that player… lindy didn’t like my words, i don’t think
however, about 2 and a half minutes into OT… HAULA THE BALLA GOT THE GAME WINNING GOAL WITH ASSISTS FROM BESTIE NUMBER 1 AND THE GIANT TEDDY BEAR!!
which means your devils are 4-0 in the preseason!! 3 games left!
p.s. this is my formal request to never have to be around gritty again. i thought adam fantilli was my biggest fear, but i’ve been proven wrong
tagged curtislazar95, nicohischier, holtz_10, dougieham, ehaula, dawson1417
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curtislazar95 i always look forward to your praise, niece!
y/ndevils00 i’m so glad! can i babysit your children (my cousins) one day?
curtislazar95 quite literally never 💚🦎
y/ndevils00 eh, probably the right choice
jackhughes are you seriously afraid of a mascot, dove?
y/ndevils00 look at him! i think he would plan my murder and get away with it
grittynhl i would
y/ndevils00 OH MY JESUS FUCK GET HIM AWAY
lhughes_06 dawson sent him a video of you throwing your phone and now jack is currently doubled over on the floor, tears rolling down his face, as he laughs at this
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes glad to know you find my FEAR amusing
ehaula i try, i try 🤗
y/ndevils00 you did better than dawson! (don’t tell dawson)
dawson1417 YOU KNOW I CAN SEE THIS, RIGHT??
y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 no you can’t, this is a private conversation!
dawson1417 i can assure you, it is NOT
john.marino97 i’m loving this
dawson1417 @/john.marino97 shut up, you’ve been stealing my affection!
y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 @/john.marino97 boys, boys, i love you both equally!
dawson1417 no you don’t
john.marino97 no you don’t
dougieham why does it look like you took that picture of me from on the ice?
y/ndevils00 i have my ways
dougieham were you ON THE ICE somehow?!
jackhughes are you kidding? she would’ve broken her neck
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes okay and who’s fault is that? my boyfriend is a professional hockey player and you’ve never TAUGHT ME how to ice skate
jackhughes umm i TRIED to teach you! you fell on your face and then bribed luke to distract me so that you could get yourself hot cocoa and hide from me so you wouldn’t have to get on the ice again
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes hmm that doesn’t sound like something i would do. nope, not at all
nicohischier i didn’t miss this
y/ndevils00 yes you did
nicohischier i missed you calling me “captain whore” and taking pictures of me in the penalty box?
y/ndevils00 well maybe if you didn’t get penalties, i wouldn’t be ABLE to take pictures of you in the naughty boy box
nicohischier oh wow, i never thought of that before 😐
y/ndevils00 i know, you’re welcome
dawson1417 i got that assist for you!
y/ndevils00 awww i appreciate that, merc-dawg!
y/ndevils00 a goal would’ve been nicer tho
dawson1417 i’m feeling very under appreciated right now
y/ndevils00 aww i’m sorry, i love you! (do better)
dawson1417 i love you too! (yes ma’am 😔)
grittynhl i’m coming for you
y/ndevils00 help me 🥲
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accio-victuuri · 3 months
Text
an analysis : Xiao Zhan + The Moon & Sixpence 🌖
as usual with xzs videos like the one just released, you can make an entire thesis into the possible meanings of every chapter and frame. add it’s relation to xz and if you’re a pro, go deep into the techniques they used in shooting and editing. this one tho is centered around the theme of “the moon and sixpence” which is a book xz recommended before. I saw a few articles linking this to the elements on the vlog and so i looked into it.
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i have lightly talked about some elements from the vlog yesterday but focused more on the quotes that appeared and the music chosen.
it’s been years since he mentioned this book and he didn’t even say that it’s his all-time-favorite. for example, the van gogh elements, we expect that already to be a recurring theme. as well as the moon, but this one has another connection to it. i am honestly curious where his headspace is at, and why, in this specific point in time he felt so close to the message of that book or some parts of it.
let me start with a synopsis and the book is available on googlebooks if you wanna try it out like i did. 🔖
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with the plot alone, you can get a sense of why he would like it. at the time he read it, he was not yet the superstar xiao zhan that we know now. and this is why i guess he related to it more now. especially the sacrifices he has to make for the path he has chosen. this was evident in his GQ cover story interview where he compares himself to his other friends and how they have normal lives. the books is written in the first person POV of narrator who is looking into the stockbroker turned artist Charles Strickland. you get to see the thoughts of the narrator and how he views the main character of his story. the way i see it, the narrator is “Xiao Zhan the person” and how he sees “Xiao Zhan the public personality”. this concept of two sides to him was opened up in his esquire cover story and i can’t help but think it relates to this story.
i will be heavily quoting passages from the book that attracted me and i personally thought relates to xz. this is my personal interpretation only.
The greatness of Charles Strickland was authentic. It may be that you do not like his art, but at all events you can hardly refuse it the tribute of your interest. He disturbs and arrests.
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the story starts of with this line and well isn’t this one way to describe xiao zhan? he has always been described as authentic and the “real deal” as far as idols and actors go. not many people are expected to like him or be part of his fan club and chase him — however, one thing is clear: he disturbs and arrests. his popularity is something that is unheard of and many artist and companies try to replicate. he is a disturbance to the norm in c-ent and why he is a constant target. it’s his biggest asset and liability. something like MFW and stepping out of his home is also expected to attract all kinds of attention. He is aware of that.
“His faults are accepted as the necessary complement to his merits. It is still possible to discuss his place in art, and the adulation of his admirers is perhaps no less capricious than the disparagement of his detractors; but one thing can never be doubtful, and that is that he had genius. To my mind the most interesting thing in art is the personality of the artist; and if that is singular, I am willing to excuse a thousand faults.”
this is in the POV of the narrator, describing the artist he is writing a book about, Charles Strickland. the message of this quote is similar to the one i mentioned above. xz is not perfect and people, specifically his fans should accept that. it’s what makes him more real. through his wins and losses, he is still xiao zhan.
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“It is a salutary discipline to consider the vast number of books that are written, the fair hopes with which their authors see them published, and the fate which awaits them. What chance is there that any book will make its way among that multitude? And the successful books are but the successes of a season. Heaven knows what pains the author has been at, what bitter experiences he has endured and what heartache suffered, to give some chance reader a few hours’ relaxation or to while away the tedium of a journey. And if I may judge from the reviews, many of these books are well and carefully written; much thought has gone to their composition; to some even has been given the anxious labour of a lifetime. The moral I draw is that the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in release from the burden of his thoughts; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.”
this next passage makes me think of the projects he has done and what it must feel like for him. there are a lot of dramas/movies that come out every year and what we repeatedly hear from xz is that he only wishes to bring good works. something people will enjoy and appreciate— never mind the popularity that comes with it. he just finished filming a big project LOCH which i can only imagine is so stressful to him. and now is working on another historical drama.
he is someone who immerses himself in the character and once it’s done, it must be a huge weight off his shoulder. like what is said — seek reward in the pleasure of work and in release from the burden of his thoughts.
“Then, what in God’s name have you left her for?’
‘I want to paint.’
I looked at him for quite a long time. I did not understand. I thought he was mad. It must be remembered that I was very young, and I looked upon him as a middle-aged man. I forgot everything but my own amazement.
‘But you’re forty.’
‘That’s what made me think it was high time to begin.’
i think this one is pretty self explanatory, how he started in the entertainment circle a little bit later in his life. compared to his peers. but the answer was simple to him as it was with Strickland, in his case, “i want to sing.”
‘I tell you I’ve got to paint. I can’t help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn’t matter how he swims, well or badly: he’s got to get out or else he’ll drown.”
this message seems similar to the one quoted on the vlog about about the rivers and small streams. in this one, it emphasizes how one should not be afraid to take the small step of “swimming badly” in hopes that someday they will wade the waters more efficiently.
“But here was a man who sincerely did not mind what people thought of him, and so convention had no hold on him; he was like a wrestler whose body is oiled; you could not get a grip on him”
If there was something in this book the describes XZ so perfectly — it is this one. I think he is not devoid of over thinking about what people say or being a people pleaser. but in recent times, i am seeing a change in him and how he is more calm. a freedom in the way he speaks, the truths he is no longer holding back. he is not afraid to be different anymore.
which led to that GUCCI outfit. LOL! 🤣🤣🤣
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‘Look here, if everyone acted like you, the world couldn’t go on.’
‘That’s a damned silly thing to say. Everyone doesn’t want to act like me. The great majority are perfectly content to do the ordinary thing.”
so true. a great majority wouldn’t and couldn’t do what he does. just looking at the chapters in the vlog, from going to a distant place and dealing with the MGW chaos. after that, being only afforded a small time to decompress and sit. to enjoy the sunset. that’s what his life is.
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“I don’t pretend to be a great painter’, he said. ‘I’m not a Michael Angelo, no, but I have something. I sell. I bring romance into the homes of all sorts of people. Do you know, they buy my pictures not only in Holland, but in Norway and Sweden and Denmark? It’s mostly merchants who buy them, and rich tradesmen. You can’t imagine what the winters are like in those countries, so long and dark and cold. They like to think that Italy is like my pictures. That’s what they expect. That’s what I expected Italy to be before I came here.”
i would guess this is how he sees his work. he never claimed to be the best, you can see that with how he always mentions wanting to be better. he wants to give the people a positive view of life. which i can clearly see from the vlogs even, makes you wanna go where he visited.
“A man’s work reveals him. In social intercourse he gives you the surface that he wishes the world to accept, and you can only gain a true knowledge of him by inferences from little actions, of which he is unconscious, and from fleeting expressions, which cross his face unknown to him. Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem.”
another one that i think describes xz. his little actions that we see reveal his true self —- the gentle, funny and dorky xiao zhan which is a contrast to the character he sometimes has to portray. it’s when we talk about his duality, the way he was posing and “game face on” for GUCCI but when he did the interview you can see the dorky xiao zhan 😂
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there are times that xiao zhan merges some of the qualities of his celebrity side and i think it’s perfectly person. it is a huge part of his life, and the way i see it, his experiences only make him a better person.
“I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage.
They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known.
Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.
Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs.
Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth.
Here at last he finds rest.”
read that again. it’s a lovely way to put into words what i imagine is something that not only xz goes through. we know what kind of environment and country he lives in, i’m not trying to get political but you get the point. being a celebrity or public personality like him is vastly different from how it is with the rest of the world. i have always admired how he handles it all with grace, how he he willingly accepts the responsibility and burden of being who he is. and that’s why i was also surprised by his answer when asked about a parallel world and he answers about a superpower where he can make it possible to have no disputes in the world. being in that place, with lots of people around, from different parts of the world probably made him think more about this topic. aside from eating pizza and being his usual beautiful self, he was thinking about some serious issues too.
chapter 1 was about going to a distant place but not really, there was something in that place and experience that feels like a home he longs for.
alternate explanation, this can also mean him living his life as a graphic designer, and then spreading his wings into a different industry — being the place he has sought. but considering the time this was released and where he is now at life, i’m thinking it’s more of the former.
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so busy yearning for the moon that he never saw the sixpence at his feet. 🪙
this imagery at the end of the vlog + the coin he holds + the quote fits so well together. the way i see it, XZ is doing both. he appreciates the moon, he looks up to it but he doesn’t miss to see and hold the sixpence. it’s why he is holding on to it, in some, it was even rolling on it’s own towards him. and it’s not just the proverbial sixpence. he is seeing and appreciating his surroundings —- the egg he ate, laundry, bike etc.
as a fan, this is actually comforting to me. the book itself is not the happiest, which makes sense cause xz prefers melodramatic to downright tragic stories. but it shows a realistic view of what some goes through to pursue their dreams. it’s not as glamorous as what we see on tv or the internet. but the end of the vlog, shows that xz is keeping a balance. he is not just busy looking up at the moon— he is also living his life.
-END.
I first knew about the connection of the vlog to the book via 辉夜姬不叽 and i got hooked into writing something about it and reading the source material. i also liked @resonancewitness interpretation of the vlog, particularly the lines in starry starry night.
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hargr0vefield · 2 years
Text
my boyfriend billy hargrove headcanons ☼
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alarmingly protective
tries to keep you in check with bad behavior as much as possible, doesn’t want you turning into him
like if you’re upset one day and cussing up a storm he’ll tell you to stop and probably say something like “that’s not good for you,”
doesn’t like exhaling his smoke around you because of second hand smoke, around anyone else he wouldn’t care but, you? big no no
unless you ask him to blow smoke into your face or mouth, then of course he’ll do that
dacryphilia, enough said
not really good with heart to heart conversations,
they mainly only arise when he’s super vulnerable like after a fight with his dad
you’re constantly fixing up his cuts and bruises, whatever they may be from this time around
let’s you wear his leather coats only deep enough into the relationship to where he knows he can trust you
when cuddling, holds you indescribably close, longing to make up for the lack of it he never got as a child
earlier in the relationship tho, you two stayed to your opposite sides of the bed,
until one night after a brutal fight with his dad, he climbed through your window and let you fix him up. that night as you lay down, he pulled you into his chest for the first time, and you knew some barriers had finally been broken.
climbing. through. your. window. all the time.
he won’t let you tell anyone but he has a secret love for video games and on off days, he’ll bribe keith so you guys can have the arcade all to yourselves
sometimes will have shutdown periods to where you think he’s ignoring you but in truth, he’s gone off the grid from everyone and will most likely not be back for a couple of days
he’ll be back tho, and you’re the first person he comes to, explaining it wasn’t your fault and never will be and that he just needed his time.
always smells incredible
actually very clean and keeps excellent hygiene
bad jealousy issues. will usually act out at the smallest detail. you’ll calm him down, tell him you’re his and only his, and he’s usually back to normal in a good few minutes.
territorial. leaves hickeys in very visible places, insists on driving you home from school almost every day, throws his arm around you whenever he can sense someone lurking +etc
car sex. all the time. any messes tho and you’re cleaning.
late night drives frequently
spoiling you but being very discreet about it. something like “you said you needed new perfume so,” *tosses you a new expensive perfume, carelessly*
when in fights, he usually takes a drive to calm himself down. he fears he’ll turn into something worse if kept in close proximity when angry with you although you both know he’d never hurt you
when sleeping over either at his place or yours, and he has trouble falling asleep, he’ll light a cigarette in the middle of the night, in bed, and attempt to soothe himself that way by just smoking one
can be mean but that’s to be expected, you’ve grown to take it. although if he ever goes too far, and he notices, he won’t apologize but do something indirectly like a hand to your thigh or a “you ok?”
avid coffee drinker but again, won’t let you tell anyone because that’s “lame” and “for old people”
when in his lifeguard era, sneaks you into the pool after hours just so you can both night swim in peace and maybe skinny dip
was actually the first to say i love you, one night whilst you were applying rubbing alcohol to a cut on his lip,
“this is gonna sting,” *dabs* *silence* “y/n,” “yeah?” “i love you”
has only cried in front of you once, again after you had finished fixing him up and cleaning up some cuts, he began to cry, hard, so you just pulled him into your chest as he sobbed. neither of you have talked about it since.
gets off on you crying, dacryphilia as aforementioned, but usually only when it’s over something petty. if it’s serious, he knows to switch on the best listening front he can and try to shove those other feelings down.
likes his fair share of alcohol but refuses to let you consume too much
the one time you did, he had to prop you up on his shoulder just to get you home. once home, he laid you down on your bed and stood, kind of clueless as to how to take care of someone in this condition
bonus: on good days, he’ll let you bring max with you as you go out and run errands
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wayfayrr · 9 months
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May I request legend and/or ravio falling for an isekai reader? thank u <3
of course you can <3 this is more legend coping and reader finding out about him falling for them but I hope you'll enjoy it still!! I think I've found out I can't really write for Ravio well tho so it's just Legend and reader
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It’s not been long since I started to travel with the chain, a few months at max, but even still it’s enough time to have ended up travelling through several different versions of Hyrule. With the most recent and current being the veterans’ own. Leading him to take advantage of the fact he can visit his own house again, he’s also oddly pleased that - by his admission - someone who usually stays here is for the moment elsewhere. Looping back to the present situation I’m in.
“Legend, are you sure it’s alright for me to use your bed? This is your house, I really don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re the one who has the least experience with travelling, you can take it. Maybe my bed will pick up your scent.”
Legend’s been acting like this for a while now. Getting used to him being a little standoffish with my arrival and the fact that I’m not from any Hyrule is one thing but now that he’s gotten to know me somewhat it seems like that’s flipped to him being more overbearing. With how he wants to protect me from things that aren’t even a threat to me, you could almost mistake him for being in love. If it weren’t for the fact that I know I have to leave at some point then he’d have a chance however, it isn’t fair to him that I’d have to abandon him at some point.
“But it’s your bed, I don’t want to steal it from you, even if it isn’t for long.”
“It’s not stealing if I’m offering it to you, but since you seem so against that idea… we could share?”
“You’re not going to drop the idea of me taking your bed, are you? Fine, I’ll give in - we can share your bed Legend.”
This might be the first time I’ve seen him where his face matched the colour of his hair; isn’t that adorable?  Would that mean that sharing a bed here has the same meaning as back home, likely… Or Legend just has feelings for me, or both.
Probably both.
Sharing a bed with Legend doesn’t sound bad, with him getting this flustered at even the idea makes it seem like it’s going to be interesting.  
Seeing how the rest of the chain has settled down for the night as well it’s just Legend and me, now his face has gotten even redder since he first asked if we would share his bed. 
“Well - how uhh how are we going to do this [name]?”
Shrugging I got into the bed and held the blanket up for him to get in, it’s not like there are too many other ways to go about this. After a moment when he finally got over his fluster and managed to crawl in next to me and lie still with his arms by his side. 
“This, yeah I guess this works.”
“Now then Legend, when was it you fell for me?”
So that’s what it takes for him to become a spluttery mess, a simple question. Granted it was a simple question, while he is laying tucked against me in his own bed, and one he knows I have a vague answer to as I was able to ask him. 
“Take your time, I’ll be here all night.”
“... I don’t, It’s been gradual. I realised when we ended up here…”
A face being buried into my shoulder paired with his arms wrapping around me was a pleasant surprise, it’s like he’s trying to hide his fluster.
“If I said I’d be interested in a relationship with you then?”
“...What?”
“How would you react if I told you that I’d like to …oh, what do you call it here… ‘court’ you? I know that I can’t exactly stay in Hyrule forever, but in the meantime we could make it work…”
A-and I’ve broken him, well from what I can tell of his face heating up he seems embarrassed beyond what should have been possible. That’s fine though, I did say it like that on purpose to see how far I could push him like this. It’s not my fault he’d crack with so little pressure. 
“You can give me your answer in the morning link, goodnight.” His breathing stilled before his arms grip softened as I fell asleep, comfortable and warm where I am in his hold. 
It was even nicer to wake up still in his hold. 
“I - If you were to court me even if it’s only for a short while? I think I’d want to try even if I have to convince you to stay after.”
“Oh? And how would you convince me then bunny boy? I’m listening.”
He’s not going to be recovering from that for a while, all of the links here seem to be used to tamer or less, how would I say it? Modern? Forward? I think that would be the best way to describe it, advances and I just love that…
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dozyrogue · 5 months
Text
I enjoy morally sound characters
Like the characters that no matter what they been through what they believe in is what they believe in
Its one of the main reasons I found purgatory so cool because it kinda showed that when push comes to shove people can and will changed,, I mean look at bolas.... That's it LMAO
no but seriously cellbit was someone most of the island would turn to with their mysterys and federation problem or just anything unusual because of the head he had on his shoulders
Everything about Phil lol
But these people who were highly respected on the island ended up on purgatory and the eye told them this is a test and that they will lose themselves, and they did all of that. bolas fucking lost their shit. I've mentioned this before (I think) that the only time we really got to see remnants of other island Phil is the battel with him and tubbo.
Anyways what I want to talk about is tubbo (not a big surprise for me lmao)
in purgatory 1 tubbo was a good leader made good strategies but was very naive and some would say foolish for making deals that hurt his team or even put his team in danger. I'm pointing at the blue/green tie thing like his team could have literally been bye byed then what???
But now in purgatory 2 hes leader again, and purg 1 mans was changed don't get me wrong b u t in purg 2 hes still himself maybe a little tougher (mans went c r a z y with the chainsaws it was great) and still wants to play mostly fair. he gave an opponent his shield during a fight to even out their fight for no reason but hes playing dirty as well, he found cellbits and bagheras waystone tped into raccoons base took their water bottles and kept it pushing.
Today in the capture the flag game apparently before hand aimsey made a deal with cyan that they would cross team. basically they wouldnt get kills from the other team and avoid killing eachother but they could still get the others flags.
When tubbo finally showed up aimsey tried to explain this and that "shubble promised" and was desperately trying to convince tubbo that they would keep their end of the deal.
But tubbo have been through this before, he knows deals and betrayals like the back of his hand, he kept repeating and repeating that it won't work out kinda falling on deaf ears and the moment cyan tried to kill orange he immediately retaliated.
He was right he was the prophet I guess, but he did respect his team and waited until they turned on him and went for them immediately. Its just very cool to see him be the one to give the warnings and aimsey acting like him in purgatory 1
He respected their efforts let play through even tho he knows the game to show them first hand that this is purgatory maybe??
I just think its cool that even after everything hes been through, hes been through so much, purgatory tried to break him, change him, make him a sinner. Even then he would keep his morals even if it is shifted some.
Hes himself to a fault and he will trust his team no matter what.
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junoswrlld · 6 months
Text
✧˖°📖nerd antics ୨୧˚
choi soobin x gn!reader 1.9k words warning swearing & lowercase intended & kms jokes genre fluff, established relationship, crack(this was very unserious) featuring sim jake-enhypen and eunchae- le serrafim junos’s note this is supossed to be a birthday present for nai @run2seob happy birthday pookster *runs away*
mini synopsis -- u do nerd anime stuff with Soobin (he shows u anime figure collection & jake jumpscare)
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Friday 3am
your phone screen illuminated your face in the otherwise dimly lit room as tonight was just like any night for you, the usual scrolling through tiktok at 3am, more specifically scrolling through the soobin hashtag.
it was definitely endearing seeing all the heartwarming things moas would post about soobin. The genuine affection they harbored for your boyfriend, was palpable. Their posts ranged from heartwarming anecdotes to hilariously relatable observations, all testament to the magnetic charm of Soobin.
but one video caught your eye, an episode of Eunchae's Star Diary, a close friend of yours interviewing Soobin and Kai. It was a compilation a fan made of all their favorite clips from the show. about halfway through the clip show Eunchae asks Soobin about his fixation with anime.
Eunchae leaned in and asked, "oh, Soobin you like anime?"
soobin laughed, feigning surprise. "ah yes, how'd you know?" he said.
eunchae couldn't help but chuckle in response, "Aren't you famous for it....?"
seeing this clip made you go down a rabbit hole of trying to find times when Soobin talked about the interest of his of anime. and in one video he seems to mention having a shelf of sorts the he uses to display anime figures. This intrigues you because it's not like you didn't know of this fascination, having been dating him for a little over two months of course he's told you all about it, but a shelf dedicated to figures? you've heard no talk of the sort.
and you've also had to chance to see such thing since you haven't yet been to soobins dorm, thus you've also never got the chance to see this shelf, so you decided to text him about it
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you: u collect anime figures??? soobie:WHO TOLD U?!?!?!? you: u did? you:i watched a clip of u mentioning it soobie: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO you: its not that embarrassing soobinnnn soobie: SO U ADMIT ITS AT LEAST A LITTLE WEIRD?!?!? you: WHAT NO you:id collect them too if i had the money soobie: really?? soobie:oh my gosh im in love you: omg wtf kms ur killing me you: anyways can i come over tomorrow(x together)? you:or i guess later today since its 3am soobin: like after practice? ofc u can you: im #scared after what ive seen of the dorms from tiktok you:a bike right by the stove? really? soobie:OMG LOL ill definitely clean it up for u you: u better
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5 hours later (8am)
soobie:y/n. you: what???? soobie: i just heard my 8am alarm go off you: not my fault u couldnt stop talking to me soobie: real u just have too much rizz you:real!!! soobie: but i gotta get ready to go to practice now you: wanna reschedule when i come over then? you:yknow so u (and me) can get some sleep? soobie:ur just reading my mind you: we should have planed it for tmr any since its saturady soobie: omg were so not smart you:im very smart idk about u tho you: since u spend all ur money on anime figures n stuff soobie: honestly fair
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Saturday 2pm
you've arrived at the dorm building, its a modern structure with a sleek and contemporary design. It stands tall, several stories high, with large windows that allow plenty of natural light to filter through. The exterior is adorned with a combination of glass and steel, giving it a polished and sophisticated look.
The entrance is well-lit, and as you step inside, you're greeted by a spacious and stylish lobby. The walls are decorated with subtle, tasteful artwork, featuring images of past achievements or group photos of the residents. The floor is immaculately tiled, and there's a reception desk where visitors can check-in.
after the rigorous check-in process of the front desk ladies just making sure you're not some crazy fan trying to break into the dorms, they point you in the direction of the elevators you would be taking to Soobin's room.
As you step into the elevator, your anticipation for seeing Soobin intensifies. The doors start to close, and just before they shut completely, a hand slips through, causing the doors to retract. You look up, and to your surprise, you find yourself face to face with a group of idols entering the elevator.
you think that maybe it's one of the front desk ladies that might have forgotten something? or maybe it's Soobin getting to his dorm at the same time you did. so without giving it a second thought you spam the "open door" button, hoping to help whoever is on the other side of the door.
just when you think that it's surely soobin based on the height the person entering the elevator has, he turn to meet eyes with you.
JAKE?!!!?!??!?! FROM ENHYPEN???????
of course, you have idol friends since you're dating the Choi Soobin, but he hasn't introduced you to Enhypen yet! you don't even think he's told them about your relationship, so what if Jake thinks you're some crazy fan like the front desk ladies did??
jake side-eyes you as he exits the elevator, reaching his floor, clearly thinking you're not supposed to be there. silently relieved that the awkward encounter has come to an end, at least for the moment since you can't stop replaying the moment in your head and cringing.
exiting the elevator onto the floor where Soobin's apartment is located, the hallway greets you with a quiet atmosphere. as you walk, the recent awkward encounter with Jake replays in your mind, leaving behind a sense of unease and self-consciousness. however, amidst these feelings, there's a spark of excitement, especially considering this is your first time visiting Soobin's dorm. the anticipation adds an extra layer to the mix as you make your way down the hallway.
as you reach Soobin's apartment door, marked '127' as he had told you. taking a deep breath, you knock, eager to see him but after 10 seconds of awkwardly waiting outside his door you hear a loud thud coming from the other side. you knock again, thinking his clumsy ass might've fallen over and hurt himself.
just as you were about to knock again the door wings open, and soobins stumbles to lean against the door frame.
"hey, uh, you come here often? i said that with Rizz by the way." Soobin says with a sheepish grin, trying to mask the fact that he stumbled with his charisma. His disheveled appearance and the loud thud suddenly make sense.
as you observe Soobins slightly disarrayed state, a realization dawns on you. the charm in his smile doesn't quite hide the signs of a hurried cleanup. the misplaced items and the askew chair suggest that he must have been rushing to tidy up the place right before your arrival. and the thud? Probably something clattering to the floor in the midst of his cleanup efforts.
"hold on, why do you look so shaken up??? i swear the dorm isnt that bad, i cleaned it up and none of the boys are here. you good?"
"NO DUDE I LITERALLY JUST SAW JAKE FROM EHYPEN. I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO EHYPEN THE SAME AGAIN!!!!!!!!!"
soobin gestures at you to come in and you do. "it couldn't have been that bad y/nnn. what did he say anyway?"
"he didn't say anything BUT he did give me the nastiest side-eye on the planet. and i swear if i was near a cliff i would've jumped cause that interaction made me wanna kill myself."
"i hope you're joking about the last part cause i dunno what id do without you pookie." he says while winking and putting up double peace signs.
you couldn't help but cringe, your eyebrows involuntarily scrunching together.
"some light aegyo didn't make you feel better?" soobins shoulders slumped, and he cast his gaze downward in defeat. "how about i put on a studio ghibli film so you don't die of embarrassment?" he says while guiding you to sit on the living room couch.
"spirited away."
"what?"
"put on spirited away."
"of course"
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after a Mini Studio Ghibli movie marathon, you remember the main reason you wanted to come over in the first place.
Soobin's cheeks flush slightly as you enthusiastically exclaim, "OH RIGHT!!! where's your little figure collection hiding? that's like the main reason I'm here."
"WHAT ANIME FIGURES?!?!? I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!!"
"YOU ALREADY TOLD ME YOU HAVE THEM?????? WHY ARE YOU SO EMBARRASSED??"
"i thought you might've already forgotten, and why do you wanna see it so bad anyway?"
"soobin, i literally think it's cool. plus i wanna see the things you're passionate about or whatever." you say with a teasing smile, trying to ease the tension of his embarrassment.
soobin sighs, giving in to your insistence. "i guess if you wanna see it so bad." He murmurs softly, fingers intertwined with yours, guiding you towards his room with a gentle tug.
as you enter soobins room you can clearly tell that the living room was the only one he bothered tidying up, as all of his room was left in chaos.
"welcome to my humble abode" Soobin says, gesturing playfully around the room.
"I'm surprised the figures aren't scattered across the floor with how messy this place is."
"to be fair i didn't exactly have time to clean considering you never told me when you'd be here till you were 10 minutes away"
"i guess you're right but wheres this shelf full of figures ive heard so much about?"
soobin pulls you out of the doorway and closes the door behind you, revealing the infamous collection that was hiding behind the opened door.
"WOAH. this is way more than i thought it would be."
"so it is weird???"
"WHAT?!? NO, if anything its really impressive cause how do you have all the money for this??"
"i'm an idol."
"oh right. well anyway, who's this girl?" you say as you go to pick up a chibi-looking figure. when you're only inches away from picking it up soobin slaps your hand away.
"what was that for!?!?!?!" You ask, fingers instinctively reaching for the tender spot where the impact landed.
"don't touch them?? they're only for display. and that's a Nendoroid of Lillie from the pokemon anime, kai bought her for me. also how did you not recognize her? do you not watch pokemon??"
"okay, nerd. also i hate to break it to you soobin but the last time i watched an episode of pokemon i was 12"
"im heartbroken," he says dramatically stumbling away from you, grasping onto his chest (CUZ THATS WHERE HIS HEART IS). "you've broken my heart, this is to much to bear."
"don't worry soob, I'll buy you a new figure to mend your "broken" heart"
"REALLY????? are you serious cause there's this one figure i really want to preorder," he says grabbing his phone out of his pocket at the speed of light to show you what he's talking about
"soobin do you really think i have the money for that? also, what the fuck is a Nendoroid???? what kind of alien name is that?"
"Nendoroid is the chibi figures, they're my personal have to collect."
"this wasn't as mind-blowing as i thought it would be."
"what did you expect?"
"i dunno maybe some secret underground vault of ultra-rare figures guarded by miniature anime warriors or something"
"Well, sorry to disappoint. But hey, can we go back to watching Studio Ghibli movies now?"
"absolutely"
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note pt2... please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop please dont flop
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bebzbrainw0rmz · 8 days
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Hello!! A question for you, not in a offensive light at all but I wanna ask why you like pavlevi so much and how come it doesn't make you uncomfortable with the age gap? We don't know pavs age which is fair enough but.. You get my point! I still love em tho. Maybe I'm a bit conflicted
I’m so sorry but you made a fatal mistake of giving me an opportunity to yap about them ( but thank you for being very nice abt the question, it means a lot :3 )
Slight rant under more… tried my hardest to keep it short but I have so much to say abt these fuckass losers 😔
For the reasons why I like Pavlevi so much. It’s because they are my two favourite characters, I need to psychoanalyse them and make them trauma bond or I’ll DIE.
Levi has the solitary soul, he’s been alone for most of his life. What he seriously needs is connection. And I think most of the cast just can’t fundamentally understand him. (I’m not sure if I’m being biased and self projecting here because of my experiences being autistic but yeah 😭) And I genuinely think most of that cast would look at Levi with pity. Almost as if he can’t think for himself. And I think Levi hates it. It’s really a hard feeling to pin down, but it feels weirdly dehumanising?? Like say Karin or smth would mean well but it still feels like you’re being hang up to dry? And I think Levi fucking hates it when everyone is looking at him like that. And the pity ppl have for him comes from a place of being so disconnected from him. Most of them can’t really understand him or what he’s gone through I suppose?? It’s not their faults, it’s just how it is. Society has literally thrown him to wolves. His government striped him of his autonomy, has used him for it’s benefit and now it’s people look at him like this couldn’t have been avoided, that it’s something so sad, to be pitied. Which is also why I love pavlevi bc Pav is the only person that Levi can truely connect with. Someone else who’s gone through the same bullshit, torn apart by the same world. They are both cut from the same stone, just at different stages and coping in different ways which I think is interesting. And it’s so sad because why the hell does it have to be some Bremen fuck that actually treats him like a person and not just something to pity.
As for Pav’s side of the coin. I just really like to torture him. Due to what he’s gone through and seen, being in the army around the same age as Levi, if not younger. I feel like he’d see Levi as being fit to make his own damn decisions. It’s none of Pav’s business, Levi can do whatever and he honestly does not give a shit. But as they get closer I feel like I think Levi brings out all the guilt and shame Pav bottled up and pushed far down in his psyche. Like… he’s had to kill so many just like Levi, all to even get a chance at killing Kaiser. All of it being a glorified elaborate destructive suicide mission. And he’s very fucked up about it. Dread sets in for Pav because??? He’s a terrible person??? He’s had to wear this mask for so long, he doesn’t even know who he really is. Levi is just troubled and has been put in one unfair situation after another. Pav couldn’t move forward and purposely put himself in those situations and did those fucked up things. I also think it’s interesting to think of them as like an intimacy of convenience. Bc they both know they have no future and might die at any second, but it’s better to hold someone’s hand than be alone when you die.
Other tidbits!!
They are fucking funny, like c’mon getting bossed around by the enemy, and a LIEUTENANT on top of that, is fucking hilarious
I feel like you got this from the rant b4 but the Angst potential is crazyyyyy
Pav teasing Levi and making him all flustered, HELLOO??? I love blushy levi
Pav traversing caring for someone else that isn’t himself bc he’s fundamentally a self serving person gggghhh
IFUCKING LOVE DOOMED RELATIONSHIPS RAHHHHHHHHHHH
The way their heavily different personalities clash would be fun
Having someone there who's gone through what you've suffered through is so comforting. you're not alone anymore….. IM SICK IN THE HEAD
I think Levi should be allowed to kiss boys as a treat
I also think he should be allowed to shoot Pav in the head as a treat
As for the age gap.. I don’t like it at all ofc. 😭😭 It’s definitely not ideal. And I can 100% understand how that can be a deal breaker….. but I also feel like people baby Levi too much? He has 1 breakdown because he just got back from war, is going through heroin withdrawals, everyone in his home town has been turned into violent monsters, he’s hearing voices and someone just tried to kill him and he gets labeled a wimp. You put a guy in the worst situation ever and he cries ONCE and ppl call him a crybaby and infantilise him 💀 He’s stronger than people give him credit for… but that’s more of a problem with fandom than anything.
Also like… I tried….. I really tried to not like pavlevi….. But I’m way too fucking autistic abt them. It’s so bad that when I see them I get an adrenaline rush and do laps around my kitchen. I’m so serious. These guys are like pseudo drugs to me, I need to chop my head off.
And ofc I wouldn’t support 18 and 30 smth irl, that’s fucking gross……… And I would say the same for a stalker and her victim.. because look, I love S4marina, but it’s basically in the same boat as Pavlevi to me..
This being a fandom that should primarily be adults, I feel like ppl should understand that. Yk, having better common sense and media literacy to understand this stuff ain’t okay irl. I still realise it’s not everyone’s thing and I’m not trying to convince ppl to like it, just explain why I like it (NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THEM LIKE I DO, I NEED TO DIE)…. Anyway uuhm I understand it makes some ppl uncomfy, which is valid! Just don’t go into spaces where you’ll be exposed to it ig??? If you seriously don’t like it, the block button/blocking tags is right there. I do that too !!
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perplexingly · 5 months
Note
just so you know you are the reason I watched almost 1 hour of a polish musical despite the fact that I don't speak a word of polish because I liked the songs and the actors looked like they were having fun. didn't even have subtitles :(
Anyways to be fair this isn't the first time something like that happened I'm just weird sometimes.
I enjoyed it, btw, in case that didn't come through in all of this. (haven't got a clue about the plot tho)
SFDGFJFK I admire the dedication bless you !! I think I’ll try to translate it, I’m very slow at making subs though so I don’t know how long it will take 🙈
About the plot, it’s a rather fictionalized story of Mieszko I, who became the first king of Poland. But for now a summary:
Mieszko’s father announces that he retires and Mieszko shall now rule over the tribe of Polans, and orders him to conquer. So Mieszko does, he conquers the nearby slavic tribes, each time marrying someone from them. Then Hodon enters the stage and introduces himself: he’s the markgraf of the Saxon Eastern March, a devout Christian, and although he used to be friends with Mieszko, campaigning together, Mieszko „took something close to [Hodon’s] heart” (a piece of land neighboring his) and therefore must die.
The ending of Hodon’s song introduces another conflict: Mieszko, a pagan, falls deeply in love with Dobrawa, the Christian princess of Czechia. Mieszko tries to convince Dobrawa’s father to allow their marriage but to no vial. (That’s why there’s this dance between Dobrawa and Jesus - to show that Jesus is in the way lol).
Then Pope has a song about teaching the pagans with sword and fire and sends Hodon - his bulwark of Christianity - against Mieszko. Then Hodon challenges Mieszko to a rap battle and wins (Mieszko’s lines are objectively better tho 😞)
Later Dobrawa and Mieszko have a romantic picnic but she asks him to convert and it ends up in an argument because he will never. Anyways, the time skips to Mieszko’s christening. (Hodon has a fun scene where he tries to sneak in but Dobrawa doesn’t let him and when Mieszko comes in they have this exchange „Excuse me” „I won’t”)
The Pope is delighted how big the Christian lands have become and how there’s a new bulwark of Christianity. Hodon still wants to fight Mieszko and the Pope doesn’t understand why, now that Mieszko is a Christian. No matter, Hodon’s army goes to attack Mieszko’s (in his song, Mieszko tells Hodon that he’s attacking the bulwark).
In the meantime Mieszko’s father dies, and Mieszko informs us that the final battle will take place in Cedynia. Hodon sends him a letter asking him to settle this with a duel (using sabres) and Mieszko agrees. Dobrawa is worried but he remains unmoved.
The time for the duel comes, and Mieszko asks Hodon to explain himself, now that the earth will be soaked in one of their’s blood, which Hodon does: “You took everything I wanted” “All of this is because of a piece of land?” “Not that, you Pope’s shameless pet. Don’t be daft, it’s about the bulwark. It’s that the markgrafs won’t be counted among the saints. It’ll be your fault if all that history remembers is that you defeated me in Cedynia”
Mieszko dies in this musical but it’s completely not accurate lol the battle (which indeed Hodon’s army lost) took place 20 years before either of them died.
Sorry for this wall of text 🙈
Also for these who haven’t seen the context, it’s this:
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trickstarbrave · 3 months
Text
WIP WHENEVER
HIIIIIIIIII im very excited to share this wip. im so mad i wrote this out of order bc i wanna post it immediately. im looking forward tho to finally being able to edit and post it on ao3 normally
i got tagged by @caliblorn and @your-talos-is-problematic and im taggingggggg @woundjob, @thescrolls-haveforetold, @wellthebardsdead and my roommate @soundwavefucker69
here is smth for moon and star. lots of lorkhan talk. some chim. some trauma. even some dagoth ur
literally i was like "oh yeah. its all coming together" writing this also its long im sorry
also here is my god!nerevar sketch. can be interpreted also as just how lorkhan appears to neht and the ppl around him
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Malacath’s hand touched his chest and pain wracked his body. Nerevar could feel the blade cutting away his skin—cutting through the bone of his sternum and splintering it. It ripped apart and opened his ribcage, before that damn hand was then inside his chest. His anxiety spiked as he could feel phantom touches on his heart, a hand gripping it, long claws digging into the muscle as it continued to beat loud and sturdy. His whole body had gone rigid, nostrils flared and his breathing coming in quick pants desperate to get more air in his lungs. 
He was terrified. More than terrified, in fact. It was like being killed in the heart chamber but all the more worse somehow. He was choking now, gagging on blood—thick, black blood that was pouring from his chest, bubbling up in his throat.
And then Nerevar was overcome with the urge to laugh. To laugh besides the terror coursing through him, to laugh even though he was gagging and choking on his own blood. He knew he would die; it had been a part of his plan all along. He hadn’t known what death would be like, but he had anticipated it, at least on his own terms. And yet here Trinimac was, killing him himself. Ripping his heart from his chest. 
He had intended the first death to be slow and simple. A fading ember rather than a bright, all encompassing flame that destroyed everything with it. He had intended to bear the burden as the cause of the first death in their reality where death did not yet exist—was merely a theory. But here Trinimac was, unknowingly mantling that sin himself. A cruel irony he would be the one to blame for this. It was not his fault, but it would be his responsibility and duty.
He’d collapsed at some point, gasping, crying, and choking on blood as Voryn held him close. Voryn shouldn’t see him like this—not his beloved, sobbing and begging. He couldn’t hear his voice over the drumming of his own heart but he tried to speak despite all the gagging he was doing. His gorgeous, sweet lover, his beautiful hawk shouldn’t have to watch him die like this. Not when Nerevar knew this was coming, deep down. Not when he had doomed them both, sacrificed Voryn’s life on the altar just as much as his own. He was regretting it now, if only because he couldn’t apologize; how could he speak when Trinimac had already ripped out his heart? How could he explain he never wanted to hurt Voryn in truth? How would his beloved hawk even react to his death? Oh the fury he could bring down, how he could drown the world in blood and tears if he was pushed to the brink…
And what of Azura, his sister? His poor, vain, vindictive sister… She hadn’t agreed to help him, but he knew she would be in a rage over his death. And even the man killing him was sobbing and crying, apologizing despite his lord—Nerevar’s own brother—ordering his execution. How could he apologize to this man? To tell him he knew he didn’t mean for it, that Nerevar was the villain all along in this story? Would that soothe his grief? Trinimac, Kyne, Azura, all of the others… How would they fair without him? Tears were now spilling from his eyes not from pain but sorrow that he wouldn’t be there to comfort and love them. Ah, if only he could kiss his hawk one last time…
“Nerevar!” Voryn’s voice finally cut through, and a disconnect happened in the vision. He was untethered now, the sensation of falling back into his own body hitting him, and his ears were ringing loudly, a dizziness washing over him. There were no more feathers on Voryn’s face or on his cloak—why would there be? Voryn wasn’t… Voryn wasn’t a hawk, why would he call him that so fondly? There weren’t even tears streaming down his face like he had seen before, but his face was in a grimace, pained watching him writhe and flail choking on imaginary blood.
His hand came up to his chest as he felt around, but there was no gaping wound like he’d expected. Why had he felt it so clearly then? His whole body was still shaking from the terror and pain, unable to calm the trembling. 
“Do you remember now, Lorkhan?” Malacath asked, still standing over him. Vivec and Sil were currently being held back by the numerous orcs, though they were swearing up a storm and desperately trying to fight their way closer to defend him. Even Voryn had a spell prepared as he cradled Nerevar close to his chest, posed with the ferocity of a wild animal protecting its young.
“I-I’m not…” Nerevar began, though it felt like a lie on his tongue. He could still taste the metallic black in his mouth, the unnatural blood he was choking on. His body felt hot now, his mouth dry making the metallic taste all the more nauseating. “Lorkhan is dead!” He shouted definitively. Lorkhan was a dead god—long dead before Nerevar had ever been born as a lowly half blooded chimer in that ebony mine. 
“And yet, here you are, alive and in the flesh.” Malacath responded, his expression unwavering. “I would know that heartbeat anywhere. I would know how you battle more than anyone else.”
“Stop it!” Nerevar shouted, covering his ears, still shaking. 
“Why you deny it is my only question for you.” 
“I’m not Lorkhan!” Nerevar growled, teeth bared. His whole body felt like it was burning, just like in the heart chamber. That supernatural chanting from his dream came back too, at the edges of his senses, as he fought back the urge to vomit. “I’m not Lorkhan, just shut up, shut up, shut up!!” 
The next thing he knew, everything went black, the last thing he heard being his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and Voryn calling his name. 
--
Nerevar’s eyes snapped open. His hands frantically touched at his chest, once again checking for the wound, only to find nothing. Still, the unmistakable ache was there, however faint. 
“Where…?” He found himself someplace… Bizarre. There was stone architecture, that much he knew, but it seemed… Foreign, though they were in a state of disarray. It looked like some kind of abandoned tower, the roof having long since caved in, vines growing over stone. In the middle, where Nerevar was laying was soft grass and a few wildflowers. He sat up, looking around even further, confused. 
“Damn Trinimac, causing problems again…” Someone behind him muttered, and Nerevar quickly turned to see--
Himself? 
He jumped, panicked. No, no he could tell it wasn’t himself. He looked a lot like Nerevar, and sounded a lot like Nerevar, but there was something off about his appearance. He was taller than Nerevar--around Voryn’s height maybe? His hair was much longer too, not to mention he was wearing long robes Nerevar would never wear given how complicated and annoying they looked. Not to mention the longer he looked at him the more his appearance seemed to change--subtle ripples you had to focus on to know. His eyes subtly changed shape, along with his other features, sort of at random in moments where if you blinked you’d miss them. 
“Apologies for that.” The man said, walking over and plopping down to sit next to Nerevar. “I never expected his followers to summon him, nor that he’d do something like that…”
“Who are you?” Nerevar asked, his heart still racing in his chest. The other simply plopped his chin in his hand, staring back at Nerevar, amused.
“You and your lover--both just asking questions instead of even trying to figure it out for yourselves…” He tsk-tsked with a soft click of his tongue and a shake of his head. 
“How the hell am I supposed to know who you are?” Nerevar snapped. “I don’t even know where I am!” 
“Easy, no need to raise your voice.” He still looked amused, despite Nerevar’s anger. 
“Why in Oblivion do you look like me?” Nerevar demanded an answer now; he was in no mood to play games at the moment. He felt his heart being ripped out by that damn orc god and now he had someone playing mind games with him. 
The other sighed.
“I am Lorkhan.” Nerevar’s blood ran cold. 
“What…?” Nerevar stared in confusion and shock. “But Lorkhan is--”
“Dead?” He asked with a smirk and a quirk of his brow. “Don’t I know it.” Lorkhan then laughed heartily. “But when did that stop the dead from interfering with the living from time to time?”
“Why are you here?” Nerevar asked, leaning away from him. 
“I thought it would be only fair to show myself to you after that stunt Trinimac pulled.” He explained. “Though I imagine the fact you were stabbed through the chest once before only made it that much harder for you.”
Nerevar was trying to figure out the situation he was in, putting the pieces together the best he could. Several daedra called him Lorkhan, and here was Lorkhan looking remarkably similar to Nerevar. Was it possible people were mixing them up based on appearance? That didn’t seem quite right; it would make sense for Malacath and potentially Dagon, but Dagon didn’t call him Lorkhan initially, and not to mention it wouldn’t explain the nords. He doubted the elf hating people of Skyrim would so readily accept an elven appearance for their chief deity. Nor did it explain the strange, supernatural beating of his heart that drove him to accomplish strange feats out of sheer willpower alone. 
“... Why do you look like me?” Nerevar repeated his question again.
“Come now, I thought you’d be smart enough to figure that out.” Lorkhan laughed again. 
“Answer me.” 
“Well,” Lorkhan’s grin looked mischievous now. “It’s only fitting I look like you because I am you, don’t you think?”
This time a numbing tingle followed the chill in his blood. “Y… You…”
“Or well, I suppose it might be easier to understand if I say you’re a part of me.” Lorkhan continued. “You wouldn’t be the first mortal to be a fragment of me, anyways.”
“I’m not you!” Nerevar snapped, gritting his teeth. He did what he was best at: lashing out when he was truly scared and confused--when problems became too difficult to ignore or solve on his own. “I’m not you! I’m not Lorkhan!!”
Silence followed, the faint sound of birds chirping having vanished, the sky turning a stormy gray. He was panting from his outburst of yelling, but the screaming hadn’t really solved anything. Lorkhan was still sitting in front of him, looking at him with a serious expression, unphased. He was still in this crumbling tower, sitting in the grass. 
How long could he run from this? Daedric princes called him Lorkhan. The nords called him Shor. The strange visions he received that only made sense if they were Lorkhan’s memories, not to mention his heart--
Nerevar curled up, hands moving up as he felt a pain in his chest, clutching his shirt tightly. 
He was scared. He was scared and he didn’t know what was going on. He was terrified because ultimately, he didn’t know what this meant. He didn’t know what this made him.
Gingerly, two arms wrapped around him, pulling him up from the fetal position he curled himself into and into a warm embrace.
“Shh, it’s alright,” Lorkhan whispered, “Just let it out.” As soon as he said that, tears were flowing out of Nerevar’s eyes as he openly sobbing into his shoulder, holding onto him. Nerevar never really had a father--as the Nerevarine he was an orphan who didn’t really know who his parents were and as Nerevar his father was hunted down before the two of them ever met. But at that moment Nerevar couldn’t deny there was something paternal in the way Lorkhan held him gently, letting him cry and sob with arms that felt so much stronger than Nerevar could imagine. As alien as it was, he felt safe in his arms, the pain in his chest fading though he was still distraught and crying. 
Eventually though, his tears died down to soft whimpers rather than open sobs, Lorkhan stroking his hair all the while. 
“It’s alright.” He repeated, trying to reassure Nerevar.
“It’s not alright.” Nerevar countered. “If I’m just you that means I don’t really exist!” It was the truth; if he was just some shard of Lorkhan then he had no real identity of his own. He was just a piece of a larger whole, delusional in that it thought itself independent and separate. “No one really knows me. No one really loves me.” The person Voryn loved wasn’t even real, just a false identity of someone who denied who they truly were. Was the person Voryn actually loved just the pieces of Lorkhan that made up Nerevar? Lorkhan said there were other mortals like him--what if Voryn left him for someone who was a larger, better part of Lorkhan? “I’m just a part of you, an extension of you. I don’t have any thoughts or feelings of my own!”
“Hey now, that’s not true.” Lorkhan interjected. “If you had no thoughts or feelings of your own, how could you deny being me?” 
“But--”
“You have thoughts and feelings and emotions of your own.” Lorkhan reiterated. “You have your own identity, your own history, your own relationships.” Lorkhan gently dried the tears on his cheeks, careful of the sharp nails on his hands. “You don’t have all the same traits as me, and likewise, how you act on things is entirely up to you.” 
“But then how am I you?” Nerevar asked, apprehensive. 
“Hm… How to explain this…” Lorkhan began, humming softly, trying to gather his thoughts. “... Do you know that sometimes people take cuttings from plants to make a new one?”
Nerevar did know that, though he’d never done so himself. He was bad at growing plants, but he’d heard of it a few times. 
“When they take a cutting from a tree for instance, it was once a part of that tree.” Lorkhan continued. “One of the many, smaller branches of it. But with care and cultivation, it grows roots of its own, and then spreads itself deep into the soil as a little sapling, before finally growing into a tree itself.” Lorkhan then smiled at him. “You’re like a cutting made from me that grew into its own tree. We might be made up of the same things and bear the same fruit, but you might have different branches than me and grow in different ways.” 
“... But what if someone only loves that tree because of its fruit?” Nerevar asked. 
What if Voryn only loved him for the parts of him that were Lorkhan? What if, when Voryn found out, he became disillusioned? Why would he bother with having Nerevar as a lover if he was just a part of a larger whole? What if there was a better piece of Lorkhan out there to love, or he could simply worship the dead god in earnest to get closer to the source?
Lorkhan responded by pinching his cheek playfully, pulling Nerevar from his mental spiral.
“Then someone doesn’t really love that tree specifically, now do they?” 
“But--”
“Trees are much more than the fruit they bear.” Lorkhan continued, cutting him off. “They provide shade in the sun, and shelter in the rain. They are homes for birds, and the wind whistles through the branches to make music, or even children play in the branches and leaves.” Lorkhan was still smiling at him warmly. “Even if they love the fruit it makes too, not just any fruit tree can be their tree. And if they only love the fruit, wouldn’t you prefer someone who really loved the tree to take care of it rather than someone who only cared about what the tree produced?” 
Ah, Nerevar saw what he was getting at here. If Voryn only loved the parts of him that were Lorkhan and didn’t care about him otherwise, that meant he didn’t really love Nerevar. Nerevar’s hand reached over to caress the scar on his left shoulder gently, unable to really feel it through his shirt and armor, but comforted by the knowledge it was there nonetheless. 
Would Voryn have really asked Nerevar to carve his name into him if he didn’t love Nerevar? Perhaps the rest of Lorkhan didn’t appeal to Voryn. Perhaps the other traits other mortals shared with Lorkhan weren’t the same as how Nerevar was. Nerevar wanted to trust Voryn with his heart and make this work--he shouldn’t be assuming once again that Voryn would be quick to leave him and replace him with someone else. Voryn committed to Nerevar.
“There we go.” Lorkhan smiled, seeing his stormy expression fade. 
“... But I don’t know what any of this means.” Nerevar continued. “Why am I a part of you? What does any of this mean?” How was he supposed to move forward like this? How many other daedra would challenge him calling him Lorkhan? “How can I tell what’s my thoughts and abilities and what’s just yours? How can I tell if I’m even real?” 
That was the part Nerevar was still grappling with. If he was called Lorkhan and acted like Lorkhan and did what Lorkhan was supposed to do… Didn’t that just make him Lorkhan? When he was the Nerevarine he slowly just assumed Nerevar’s memories, thoughts, and identity after he was sent back in time--or was going back in time not real either. “The future--what about my memories of the future? Are those fake too or--”
Lorkhan smiled softly, almost knowingly. 
“Oh little star,” Lorkhan chuckled as though he was recounting something funny. “None of your memories of the future are real.”
“... Huh?” They weren’t… Real? “But Dagoth Ur--the Tribunal--” Didn’t Vivec have a vision of Nerevar being killed as king? That was in the future Nerevar saw as well.
“None of it was real.” Lorkhan was still smiling, but Nerevar was sent spiraling again. 
It was all so real. Nerevar could feel it. He felt Vivec’s spear ramming through him. He could hear the hurt and betrayal in Dagoth Ur’s voice, along with the cold anger as he revealed he would never be able to trust Nerevar even if Nerevar had agreed to join him. Almalexia had attempted to kill him a second time as the Nerevarine, and he remembered fighting her after discovering Sotha Sil’s mangled corpse. 
Panic set in then. If none of that was real then… Why did he not remember his past? Why had he dreamed up such a strange turn of events? Why--
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Lorkhan leaned in close, a devilish smirk on his face now. “I’m not real either.”
Nerevar blinked in shock, only to find Lorkhan was gone. In fact, everything was gone now, leaving Nerevar floating in an inky, black void. 
Nerevar’s panic rose at that. It could have been Lorkhan just telling him he was a figment of Nerevar’s imagination and not actually the ghost of a dead god but… Nerevar knew that wasn’t the case. He could feel it, deep in the pit of his stomach, and the revelation was not a comforting one. He was left entirely untethered in this void, and looking down at his hands, he saw himself flickering in and out. 
If Nerevar was Lorkhan, and Lorkhan didn’t exist, then that meant that he didn’t exist either. Really didn’t exist. It was so much more comfortable to imagine himself as a shard of Lorkhan, living and moving on its own, ignorant to the fact it was part of a larger whole. 
A clawed hand touched his back and a sickening chill overtook him as he found himself in the heart chamber of Red Mountain once again. He was trembling as he continued to flicker in and out of existence. The heart’s rhythm was equally unsteady, stopping and starting at random, the sounds a disjointed mess. 
If the heart of the world was not stable--was not real--then what did that make the world?
What did that make his friends? The people he loved? 
What did that make Voryn?
A familiar voice called out to him, large, clawed hands gripping him tightly and pulling him in close.
“I told you once before,” Dagoth Ur began, “We are bound to the dreamsleeve together.” Nerevar knew that wasn’t right, but he didn’t know how to counter it either. 
“I am the dreamer,” Dagoth Ur continued, “And this is all my dream, my sweet Nerevar.” Nerevar didn’t like the fondness in his tone. This was a twisted version of Voryn, corrupted and maddened, fully delusional. He preferred Voryn sane and warm, affectionate and protective. He didn’t want the delirious, maddened version of him that was Dagoth Ur.
Then, the two had changed locations. Instead of the heart chamber with the unsteady heartbeat echoing around them, they were in what seemed to be a rainbow colored river, all the different colors flowing in strange, glowing patterns. They moved up and down, left and right, forwards and backwards, swirls of color that flowed like incoherent water simultaneously both much thicker and almost syrupy than pure water, and also like it was barely there as they caressed his legs. Each movement came with a strange, fragmented thought, emotion, or memory. 
“You are simply a part of my dream.” Dagoth Ur’s hands moved to the front of him now, caressing at his chest. “My most glorious, beautiful creation…” 
Nerevar knew that wasn’t true either though. It was an instinctive knowledge, perhaps, but he could tell that was simply not the case. If there was a dreamer, it certainly wasn’t Dagoth Ur. 
And then Nerevar looked to his hands to see he was a dunmer again, grey skin and all to match the equally grey hands on his chest. One of Nerevar’s hands moved to caress the scar left from corprus he got as a Nerevarine when he was forcibly attacked to infect him with it, sending him further in his quest, ironically. The scar was an ugly, messy thing--a gross mess of scar tissue trying in vain to form over an injury that wasn’t truly there, growing more mangled and grotesque by the day. Before he couldn’t remember where the attack was from Gares, as his memories of the Third Era faded more and more with his time in Resdayn like a hazy dream, leaving him unsure if it was on his chest, his stomach, his thigh, or his arm. But now he remembered it was--
All of them. He had been hit by the attack in all of those places, in different moments in time, in different versions of the same event. And in that way, it wasn’t one moment specifically but simply an event that could have played out differently, in a way bending and contorting around the flow of fate. And just as he realized it, the scar itself faded entirely. 
“Nerevar, stop this.” Dagoth Ur warned, his voice concerned. Almost frightened if Nerevar was being honest, though he knew the other wouldn’t admit to it. 
“It… Didn’t happen.” 
“Yes, it did.” Dagoth ur stressed, but Nerevar stepped away from his hands, walking along the multicolored river. “Do you doubt your own memories? My own memories?” Dagoth Ur insisted. “Just as that was my dream, this too is my dream. A dream where we get to be together.” His voice took on a facsimile of warmth and affection. “A dream where nothing can keep us apart--”
“No,” Nerevar countered, his voice soft. “It happened and… It didn’t. Just how this… None of this is real either.” The thought wasn’t as scary as it was the first time around. In fact, the revelation seemed to almost bring some relief. He dipped his hand into the liquid that pooled around his thighs, running his fingers through it in what seemed to be an arbitrary pattern, relishing in the feelings that washed over him. Like this, he could make them seem coherent. Like this he could move them until he could faintly hear a song--
“Nerevar Mora, return to my side at once.” Dagoth Ur’s tone was threatening again. It seemed that Nerevar had gotten under his skin. 
“You are not a god. I’m not a figment of your dream…” Nerevar could insist if anything he might be the one dreaming all of this up but… He knew that wasn’t quite right either. Lorkhan didn’t exist. Nerevar didn’t exist, so he couldn’t be the one dreaming. But he knew he wasn’t a figment of Dagoth Ur’s imagination, that was for certain. “... And you’re not a figment of mine.”
Dagoth Ur was in front of him again, clawed hands gripping his arms tightly while his teeth audibly grit from behind the gold mask. “If I am not the dreamer then you’re saying I don’t exist! Do you even understand what you’re saying?!” His hands gripped Nerevar’s arms even tighter, but Nerevar himself was unphased. “I exist because I say I exist. You exist because I allow you to exist.”
“Or have you forgotten your nightmares? The memories of me?” Dagoth ur changed gears now that he saw it wasn’t persuading Nerevar. “Have you forgotten the way you shuddered at my touch? Or the way I could make such sweet, passionate love to you that you forgot everything else?” Nerevar had to admit he did in fact enjoy those moments with Voryn; Nerevar loved nothing more than losing himself completely in Voryn’s body, of being unable to think about nothing else but how wonderful Voryn could make him feel. But Nerevar knew he couldn’t forget this whole mess even happened and fall readily back into Voryn’s arms, trying to delude himself that it was real. He knew he’d go mad even trying, unable to take joy from it as he tried to deny the reality he was confronted with before. 
“Do not make me rip you asunder and remake you.” Dagoth Ur threatened, venom dripping off his tongue. But at the threat, Nerevar reached his hands out, cupping the golden mask in them, before throwing the mask off entirely. 
His face looked like Voryn’s but so much older and more tired. His eyes were dead, glazed over and foggy, with only the third eye on his forehead seemingly capable of sight. His complexion was equally dead--ashen even for a dunmer. A dead sleeper who dreamed he was still alive, just as that wise woman said so long ago. 
Nerevar leaned up, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. He didn’t like this maddened version of Voryn, but he knew he still loved him. He loved Dagoth Ur and mourned for him. As horrible as it was, it was a mercy for Nerevar to slay him as the Nerevarine. It was a mercy for things to return to the past so they could have a better future, one where Nerevar wouldn’t hurt him as cruelly as he did the first time around. 
Then, just as the gentle kiss started, Nerevar pulled away, whispering softly. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he even realized it, but the truth spoken in them was more real than anything else he had seen. 
“I already unmade you.” 
Dagoth Ur stared down at him in shock, before, like ash in the wind, he faded. And Nerevar was left standing alone in the dreamsleeve. 
Yet, something was gnawing at his psyche. If Dagoth Ur was not the dreamer and didn’t allow him to exist, then what was his purpose? If this was all a dream, then who was dreaming? 
Dread washed over Nerevar again, overwhelming him as he felt like someone or something was watching him. Like he was a tiny insect crawling where he shouldn’t have, about to be crushed by the figure that finally realized he existed. 
Yet, part of Dagoth Ur’s words made sense. He wasn’t real. None of this was real. Nerevar could either stand there and accept it and fade into the liquid around him and dissolve into nothingness…
Or he could insist he did exist. That he wanted to exist. That he wanted to continue on, in spite of how nonsensical it was. 
“... I exist because I will it.” Nerevar knew he wasn’t the dreamer, but he existed in spite of it. He refused to vanish and become nothing more than a disjointed collective of memories free floating around him. 
“Well done.” Lorkhan’s voice echoed, and Nerevar found himself once more in the black, inky void, outside of the dreamsleeve. “I was a bit afraid you might not be able to handle it,” He chuckled softly, “But I can see it was silly of me to worry. You already remade the world, you’d be ready to handle the revelation of the tower.” 
“Was that… You?” Nerevar questioned, wondering if Lorkhan took on the appearance of Dagoth Ur just to help him along. 
“No. What was in fact a remnant of Dagoth Ur, based on your memories.”
“My memories?” Nerevar raised a brow, as the crumbling tower and soft grass slowly came back into focus around him, real and present once more. It was more comfortable than just free floating anyways. 
“Things can’t exist if nothing remembers them.” Lorkhan explained. “But you remembered him, so he continued hiding and lurking…”
“Would he…” Nerevar began, apprehensively. “Would Voryn have become him again…?”
“No.” Lorkhan’s voice was firm and confident, making Nerevar relieved. “Your beloved has already rejected that path.”
“Then how could he exist?”
“He existed outside of Voryn. A part of him and also not. Perhaps in a way also part of you?” It was a confusing explanation, but Nerevar supposed that was in line with everything else so far. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t exist anymore--not as he did just now.” Lorkhan hummed softly again. “Now he’s merely a memory, returned to water once more.” 
“I… Don’t understand.” Once again, Lorkhan reached over to pinch Nerevar’s cheek.
“Yes you do, don’t lie to me about that.” 
“I mean I get that he’s no longer a problem since I just saw him vanish but I don’t… Know how I did that.” 
“He was mostly tied to you. It would have been very easy for anyone in those circumstances to cut him off.” Lorkhan clicked his tongue. “Then again, I suppose not everyone can be connected to the dreamsleeve and confront not existing as well as you did.”
“So I don’t exist?” It was a question, but not asking for an answer more so a confirmation that he was understanding it correctly. 
“You don’t. And yet, you do.” Lorkhan confirmed, before elaborating. “All of us exist in that state. But I made Nirn in the first place because I realized it was impossible to move beyond that revelation and actually do something about it without real growth--growth that can only come from trial.”
“... What?” Now he was losing Nerevar. Go beyond the revelation of not existing? How would you even move past something like that? 
“Dagoth Ur had a few things correct I’ll admit.” Lorkhan continued, almost rambling now given how little it made sense to Nerevar. “The trial of flesh is needed to overcome the dream…”
“Again, I don’t really understand.” Nerevar interjected, before Lorkhan sighed.
“Ah… Right. I’m getting ahead of myself.” He then reached over, pulling Nerevar into a hug once more. “We don’t have all day, unfortunately. Linear time still exists.” He gave Nerevar’s back a firm pat. “I would explain if I could but… Well, we’d be here for some time. I think your beloved is calling you.” A ringing was in Nerevar’s ears now, the rest of the dream getting fuzzier and fuzzier. 
“Voryn…?” Nerevar asked, before his eyes cracked open. 
He wasn’t in the grass, but laying on Voryn’s cot, blinking up in a confused daze. It was night, that he could tell from how dark it was in the tent. Beside him, he heard a gasp, as Voryn looked to him frantically. 
“Oh thank gods,” Voryn looked close to tears. “Nerevar, do you have any idea how worried I was?” He cupped Nerevar’s cheek, his hand warm and familiar. It felt like Nerevar had been away for ages and also hardly any time at all. “I thought I almost lost you again…”
“I’m alright,” Nerevar sat up slowly, but his arms felt weak. “How long was I out for…?”
“More than a day.” Voryn explained, before helping support Nerevar’s upper body, settling Nerevar to lean against him. “Nothing we did could wake you up. We wanted to raze that damn orc camp to the ground,” He could hear the anger in Voryn’s voice. “But Malacath said his people would assist us and that you would wake up in time.” 
Nerevar could tell Voryn hadn’t believed the prince--not after what seemed like an attack on Nerevar. 
“I’m fine now.” Nerevar insisted, stroking Voryn’s face. “I’m--”
“Is he awake?” Vivec asked from outside the tent, and Voryn stiffened under Nerevar’s weight.
“He just woke up--” Voryn began, “Give him a few minutes to regain his senses before you shake him down for answers.”
Vivec entered the tent now, his brow furrowed. “You swore I could ask my questions when he awoke.” 
“At least give him until the morning.” Voryn pleaded. Vivec looked between the two of them, and it seemed that Nerevar looked haggard enough for Vivec to relent, though he was unhappy about doing so. 
“Fine,” Vivec scowled, leaving the tent once more. “In the morning I want answers.”
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