Tumgik
#because i live in fear of the people around me and losing my only sort of support system
clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
Note
hi hi hello im back with my ‘raidon beef bs!! can i get kieran and mc having some sort of argumentative confrontation when mc first comes to blueberry that almost gets physical before the mc’s alpha koraidon very angrily gets kieran to back off? -🧃
"[Y/n]..."
Looking to Kieran, your eyebrows furrowed at the hateful gaze he was sending you, teeth gnashed together.
You could tell he wanted to desperately say something to you--for having the nerve to show up at his school after what you did to him back in his homeland.
He was shocked that you came to BB Academy at all, before he saw this as his chance to show you how much he's changed and how strong he became. He even permitted you to challenge the Elite Four directly, growing impatient as he was ready finally crush you in-battle.
You, on the other hand, were a bit irritated at this new "persona" of his.
As far as you're concerned, he didn't need to do all of this. He didn't need to be petty and cruel to innocent league club members who don't live up to his standards. He didn't need to dismiss his sister so rudely and act like she once did.
Of course, you feel bad about what happened in Kitakami. Maybe you could've told him about Ogerpon much sooner and let him have a few wins...but this was too much.
Now he was being a straight-up bully. And you utterly despise those types of people.
"You better not go losing to anyone until our battle." Kieran huffed.
"Pssh, like I'd ever lose.." You lightly scoffed, deciding to match his energy.
Although when you looked back at him, you could see a forced grin forming on his face, spreading from ear-to-ear.
It could easily rival a Gengar's.
"Good. I'm not a little kid anymore. And you'll know it when I show you how the best of the best battle." He vowed, turning on his heel and preparing to walk away.
"Kiki!" Carmine gasped in outrage. "You shouldn't talk to [y/n] like that."
You were about to tell her not to intervene, as you didn't wanna see the siblings' relationship fall into further disarray because of this, but what Kieran said next broke the straw on the Numel's back for you.
"Shut it, sis-"
"Look, you can be mad at me all you want. But don't you dare take it out on everybody else."
His scowl deepened as he stared dead straight at you. "What did you say?"
"You heard me. "You stepped closer to him in challenge, fed up with his attitude. "And you're right. You're not a little kid anymore....you're a spoiled little brat who's mad that he didn't get what he wanted. When are you really gonna grow up and stop this charade, huh?"
For a moment he looked genuinely shocked that you're talking to him this way, but then his eyes darkened. "Don't. This isn't some charade. You made me like this-"
"Oh don't give me that. I didn't tell you to act like a bully. You did that to yourself. I was only trying to enjoy a nice trip away from Paldea until you decided to put me up on a pedestal." The words kept spilling out, and you didn't care that he was fuming more and more by the second. "Then you accuse me of ruining your life??"
"Stop it.."
"I get it, you wanna be like me. You wanna do what I can. But at least I don't go around throwing tantrums every time I lose-"
"SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP!!" Kieran suddenly turned around, hands grabbing the front of your uniform as he yanked you in close. His eyes were full of rage. "I'm through with being like you...I'm gonna be BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY!!! AND MAYBE YOU'LL KNOW HOW I FELT!!"
Although his screams initially startled you, and began attracting a small crowd, you tried your best not to show any fear.
But even so, this new side to him was terrifying to witness.
Maybe you pushed his buttons a little too much.
"Get your hands off me, Kieran." You warned firmly, gently grasping his wrists. "This isn't the time or place."
"In case it wasn't obvious, the battle court's right behind us. So it's the perfect place." He snarled. "And since you're so damn confident, maybe we'll just skip the Elite Four and get to the part where I kick--!!"
Before he could finish, one of the pokeballs attached to your belt popped open on its own, and from it emerged...
Koraidon.
Not the one who was your traveling companion who loved sandwiches, but the other member of its species: the alpha, the paradise protection protocol's defender--and now a very pissed off lizard who was able to jump out of its pokeball without your assistance.
Carmine, Drayton, and the other students gasped as it assumed its Apex build and scowled down at the boy, growling.
Suddenly Kieran didn't feel so high and mighty anymore, as he let you go and took a step away. An uncomfortable feeling of smallness and helplessness overtook him upon staring up at the Winged King's hostile gaze, a hand reaching for his Dragonite's pokeball on reflex.
You were stunned this Koraidon came to your defense quicker than the other. It must've somehow sensed the bullying behavior radiating from your rival.
'I guess it takes one to know one..'
The standoff continued for a few more moments...
Before Kieran surrendered.
"Fine. You made your point. The time for our real battle will come." His gaze went to Koraidon, his expression now cold and devoid of emotion. "Don't think you can always jump out to defend [y/n] like this. You'll see who's stronger."
It only snarled in response, while you remained beside it and frowned. "Kieran-"
"Looking forward to seeing you climb the ranks." Was all he said to you before he finally left you alone, the tension in the air still heavy as ever.
"Giiaa.."
"Thanks, buddy." You sighed, smiling a little as you stroked Koraidon's feathers. It relaxed its haunches, putting all four feet back on the ground so you could pet its snout. "Seems you've turned over a new leaf after all."
"Grraah!"
"Yeah..I can only hope he does, too.."
198 notes · View notes
aphrodisiac-siren · 1 year
Text
Dynasty of Flames
Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader
Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon's firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth.
Warnings: Incest (duh) mentions of blood/gore, swearing.
AN: Not proofread so I will simply die of mortification after I've had a chance to read this whole thing in peace later this evening.
Masterlist
Part 19
Tumblr media
GIF by unravelingthepain
“Māzigon va ñuha zaldrītsos" He chuckled adoringly at his daughter as he circled around her with sword in hand, watching her huff adorably with annoyance as she rose to her feet "sylugon qopsa"
"Come on my little dragon, try harder"
Y/N gripped the hilt of the sword tighter, knuckles turning white as her cheeks flushed red- a result of her temper flaring up. This was her fourth- no, fifth time losing to her kepa in a dual and the defeat was doing her no good in keeping her cool. Meanwhile, her father seemed to be quite amused by her short temper.
Daemon had taken the task of training his daughter with the sword himself, trusting no knight to be skilled enough to teach her nor anyone with enough patience to handle her temper tantrums. She was his daughter after all.
He found it absurd that women weren’t really given any sort of training when it came to weaponry and it was absolutely ridiculous. How was a lady to defend herself? Especially when a good amount of crimes were committed against women?
“This isn’t fair kepa” she pouted as she dusted the muck off her tush, hastily advancing toward him with the sharp weapon they called a sword “you aren’t going easy on me”
“I know” Daemon shrugged as he dodged a rather weak attack attempted by his daughter. He winced slightly when she lost her balance and fell down, grunting as her knees scraped against the rough ground littered with mud and tiny stones “you’ll thank me later”
“Thank you kepa for letting me fall”
“When you are caught in a fight, you will fall a million times and you will get up a million times” he let her stand up on her own, not picking her up himself like how he used to do when she was even younger “but I am training you with such intensity to ensure that it is solely you who should rise to your feet amidst the dead fools who crossed you”
Y/N brushed the hair out of her eyes, eyeing her father ferociously as she yet again lifted her sword.
“Do not rush into an attack” he instructed her, mimicking her actions of circling each other like animals about to pounce in an attack “take a moment to study your opponent. Which side are they leaning toward? Does their footing seem strong?”
Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes not leaving her father’s as she watched him like a hawk. She felt as though she probably even looked like some crazed animal with her clothes stained with mud and her hair all wild.
“Don’t second guess yourself” Daemon spoke softly, a tender smile adorning his lips “a dragon never doubts its ability”
Y/N wished she had visited her mother’s castle much earlier. The serenity of the place was far too therapeutic in comparison to where she lived and she was certain that with the oncoming war, this peaceful place too would fall into chaos.
Wanting to cling to this remaining bit of solitude, she continued to stay here whilst leaving the others in the dark of her whereabouts. They did not care for her or hold any remorse for what they’d done to her by taking away her crown, her reign, her mother. No, all they cared about was power, power, power.
Power for themselves, power to run the world as they see fit,
Power they stole from her.
And the only reason they’d been able to do so, was because she was a woman. How was being born with a cock an important factor for being in line to the throne? And furthermore, how important was it for someone to rule that one would forget their morals, cast aside their humanity and kill their own wife for the sake of being king?
The girl grunted with anger as she picked up her chalice and forcefully flung it across the wall and against the wall. The metallic cup fell to the ground with a loud clatter after it collided against the sturdy wall and she was sure the harsh impact left a dent in the cup.
And yet she was certain that the cup couldn’t have caused such a loud clattering sound for she heard an even louder sound of metal heavily crashing against the stone floor- the noise coming from the other side of her doors.
She stood up, hastily, as she bent down to lift her skirts and retrieve the dagger she kept strapped around her thigh at all times. And gods be good she was so glad she did, for when she finally let her skirts drop down once again, the door swung open to reveal a tall yet lean man standing in the doorway, covered from the waist down with blood. The guards that usually stayed by her door lay in a crumpled heap of tangled limbs and judging by the painful way their necks were twisted in and the pool of blood beginning to form, it was a safe bet to assume they hadn’t been merely knocked out but slaughtered.
“Tell me who sent you and I’ll let you keep your life” Y/N calmly asked, trying her very best to keep the fear and confusion from showing in her voice and body language “take another step and my offer dies and you will as well along with it”
“The one who is to die is going to be you, princess” the man sneered, marching into the room with his sword pointed at her “I’ll use your pretty mouth to fuck my cock before I slice your head off to be given to the one who paid for it”
The girl raised a brow, trying to steady her breathing as she racked her brains to formulate some sort of plan to escape this disaster. He was armed with a sword and she was at a disadvantage with only having a dagger to defend herself. She was well aware she could lead him to his death with the smaller weapon but for that she would need him to either be disarmed or really stupid enough to give her enough space to get closer and drive the dagger into his side.
His body, despite being lean, hung forward awkwardly as he stepped closer and closer, his back hunched over as if he had been carrying something rather heavy on his shoulders.
“Do not rush into an attack”
She let him get closer, until she could practically hear his boots against the floor and she hoped he couldn’t hear her heart threatening to pound its way right out of her ribcage.
His bad posture would work to her advantage; bad posture meant he was probably tired and hence, wouldn’t be fighting her to the fullest of his ability.
He mistook her still, rigid stance to be that of fear and surrender and swung his sword, aiming at her left side.
Foolish mistake.
The moment he raised his arm, Y/N dashed forward in a flash with her dagger held tightly in her grasp and she pushed it into his side, attempting to stab him fatalistically but to her dismay he was quick to push her away from him.
She’d managed to gift him with a deep gash in his side before he had shoved her with such force it sent her stumbling back into her table, her lower back colliding against the wooden edge that sent a sharp pain right up her spine and she winced loudly, muttering profanities under her breath that most people at court would gasp in response to.
The man, now even more wired up, lunged at her again; as if he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time.
This time she let him get even closer; close enough for the sharp blade of his sword to slice her left arm before he let out an agonising scream when Y/N took her chance and buried her dagger into his side that she’d previously only managed to injure.
“Fucking bitch” he growled and clasped his hands around her neck when he lost his grip on his sword that fell to the floor with a clatter as the metal came in contact with the stone.
The princess only grunted in response, twisting the dagger that elicited an even antagonising scream and she used all of her might to kick his shin, an action that had the man stumbling back a few steps before he fell to his knees.
“Who sent you?” Y/N struggled to keep her voice confident as her sleeve began to stain scarlet with the blood that oozed out of the deep wound in her hand.
"The lady Alys Rivers" he managed to respond through his gritted teeth, breaths coming out in pants.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart beating even faster with anger.
"Alys" she repeated "where is she now?"
"As far as I know, she was headed for Harrenhal" he winced as the pain intensified "you said you would spare me my life if I told you"
"I did" Y/N coldly replied as she crouched before him, a new wave of rage washing over her at the mention of Alys "but I also said the offer dies the moment you step in, as will you"
And with that, she aggressively pulled out the dagger from his side and stabbed it into his neck, repeatedly. She was like a woman possessed, fixated on burying the dagger into his neck over and over as his screams died out until his boy lay limp on the cold floor. Blood spewed out and stained the carpet near him, her dress and her face. And even though the man lay lifeless at her feet, she adamantly kept stabbing him, his organs spilling out of his now ripped-open abdomen, until the voice of her aunt snapped her out of her frenzy.
"Princess" she called out as she stood by the door with a bunch of guards at her disposal, visibly afraid after seeing her neice murder a man with such a crazed look "a raven arrived from the Dragonstone"
The girl stood up, eager to hear what her aunt had to say.
"Prince Lucerys has asked for house Royce's support" she spoke with a shaky voice, eyes darting from her niece to the dead mercenary "he wishes to lay his claim to the throne"
Y/N let out a chuckle that seemed to have frightened her aunt and she couldn’t blame her since she was obviously not laughing out of amusement but pure rage.
"Has Jace suddenly grown weary of the war that has barely begun?" she cockily asked "already forfeit his claim and let his brother take on the burden?"
"No, princess" the older woman proceeded with caution and nervousness "prince Jacaerys is dead. As is Aegon, Daemon and Aemond, my lady. A battle broke out in the skies above God's eye and neither of the men nor their dragons survived and from what is mentioned in the letter, they believe you to be dead as well, given your disappearance"
Y/N felt as though the life had been sucked right out of her. Her father was dead?
She was upset at him, enraged even but there were things that needed to be discussed, amends to be made. The last conversation she had with him was an argument and it pained her that things were left unsolved.
Her Aemond? The man she loved with all of her being and with every fibre in her body was no more?
Aegon and Jace, the two people she had come to hate and yet also loved were taken away from her?
All for what? For a throne that deep down, neither one wanted badly enough to cast aside their friendship.
Had she caused the fight? They all seemed to believe she was dead. Gods, please no- it couldn't be because of her; she couldn’t bear the thought of having their blood on her hands.
She did not want the crown after it had cost her her family.
Hot tears pricked her eyes and she hurried out of the room, pushing past the guards to make her way out to the lawns where her sweet dragon Achlys rested.
She mounted him quickly, not bothering to say her farewells to her aunt. She was far too upset and angered to manage a conversation as simple as that.
"Soves Achlys" she instructed, voice cracking.
She made her journey to Harrenhal, in hopes of finding Alys there as the man had told her earlier. He could’ve been bluffing, or perhaps not but for her own satisfaction she wanted to check for herself.
By the time she reached the cursed castle, the sun had begun to set and the skies were painted in shades of red.
How befitting, she thought, I shall paint the earth scarlet as well with her blood.
Much to her connivence, she found Alys standing outside amidst the greenery that surrounded the castle and she ordered for her dragon to make his descent.
The princess took great pleasure in gazing at Alys' reaction for it was obvious by how pale and shocked she became that she was not expecting the princess to be alive still.
"Surprised my lady?" Y/N sarcastically chuckled as she climbed down Achlys "I'm sure you were only expecting my head and not all of me"
"Why won’t you just fucking die?" Alys grunted and Y/N had to commend her for her boldness "you ruined everything. First my chance at being a princess and now a queen"
"Aegon is already wed you dumb cunt" Y/N spat, advancing toward her "were you stupid enough to try and lure him with your love potion as well-"
"No, not him you bitch" Alys spat "Aegon was to die, but the fool just had to drag others into it"
Y/N seemed confused by her vague explanation so Alys continued.
"They were informed of your death and each council was told it was done by the other" she went on "The plan was to only have Aegon and Daemon fly into battle resulting in the king's death. Once Aemond would ascend the throne I would-"
"You orchestrated this?" Y/N asked, eyes getting darker as she glared murderously at Alys "you took away my family and you have the nerve to complain about why I am not dead yet?"
"I would kill you a hundred times over if it meant I would be queen" Alys sneered, her frustration clear in her voice.
"We have rather skilled craftsmen at our disposal but I'm afraid even they won’t be able to fashion you a crown for that big fucking head of yours" Y/N chuckled mockingly before she reached out and grasped the older girl harshly by her hair, tugging at them with such brutality that it caused Alys to shriek with pain.
"Let go you cunt" she tried to slap the princess' hand away but Y/N wasn’t letting go. She could’ve been stabbed and she still wouldn’t flinch for the pain she felt in her heart was far greater than any physical pain someone might attempt to inflict on her.
"Achlys" she called out and immediately her dragon raised his head, jaw slacking to reveal his sharp teeth and she could see the glow of the fire at the back of his throat as he awaited for her to say dracarys but the command never came. She would not give her that quick death. No, she needed her to suffer and beg for her life to be ended "nābēmagon"
Attack.
Y/N harshly shoved Alys forward just as Achlys lurched forward, sinking his razor-sharp teeth into her but not quite closing his mouth.
Y/N watching without so much as flinching as her dragon mauled Alys painfully as she screamed and thrashed, the pain getting worse and worse with each moment but Achlys wasn’t done torturing her just yet.
The princess turned around, walking away from Alys and her screams as she made her way toward the lake above which the battle had taken place.
The battle in which her father and her betrothed had died.
She remembered how she and Aemond had sat by these very waters on the day she had run away with him on her own wedding. She had never imagined being here again, alone, weeping by the lake upon the death of the man she loved.
She slipped out of her shoes, walking into the coolness of the waters that served as a reminder of how cold the world around her had become all of a sudden. The sun was about to set completely beyond the horizon and the skies matched the darkness that had overtaken her heart as well.
She watched the waters ripple with the breeze, and being here again only seemed to bring her more pain.
With the aid of whatever remaining light the setting sun provided, her eyes caught a glint of something shimmering in the waters right next to her feet and she immediately bent down to pick it up.
Her eyes brimmed with tears again and this time, she granted herself the liberty to mourn her loss and she sunk to her knees as she sobbed bitterly- clutching the sapphire gem, that once belonged to Aemond, close to her chest where her heart ached for him.
Amidst her sobs, she heard the sound of a dragon screeching but she knew the sound did not come from Achlys. She turned, wiping away her tear-stained cheeks to see Luke arrive with Arrax.
"Y/N?" he called out, as if he wasn’t sure if that was her. He hopped off the saddle, taking cautious steps toward her "is that you?"
"Hello Luke" she managed a weak smile, another tear rolling down her blood-stained face.
Luke did not care that she was covered in blood and sweat and ran toward her, wrapping his arms around the older girl and hugging her frame tightly.
"We thought you were dead!" his voice faltered and soon enough, he was crying as well "I thought I lost you, I lost everyone I.. I.."
"Shh" she cooed, stroking his soft brown curls lovingly. She no longer recalled any sort of animosity she might’ve held for him. She was all she had now. Him, Baela and Rhaena.
"I've been visiting this place ever since Jace's death" the younger boy told her and the princess responded only with a hum.
"There are talks of who is to take the throne" he pulled away to look at her, sniffling "I don’t want it Y/N, I do not want the crown"
"We do not have to talk about that now" the older girl tried her best to sound comforting even though she could feel her own heart shattering.
"We do" Luke urged "the greens do not want me on that throne and they plan to crown Daeron. If you go to the capital, make it known you are alive, you can sway the council to favour you"
"They will not kneel before me" Y/N let out a defeated sigh that Luke found rather uncharacteristic "I fought adamantly for that throne and for what? For people I held dearly in my heart to die?"
"Which is why you must go and stake your claim" Luke held her hand "it must be you. Do not let their deaths go in vain. The greens will use Daeron as a puppet. It will not be a Targaryen but instead the Hightowers ruling the seven kingdoms through him".
The older girl heaved a sigh. He was right of course, they were in a rush to seat Daeron on the throne only because they would have their influence on him and until he could come of age, Otto would rule as his regent. If Otto came into power, she was well aware he would order the slaughter of her half-sisters and Luke on accounts of treason.
"Alright" she hummed, still clutching the sapphire stone, the only thing she had of her Aemond.
Tumblr media
Alicent nodded in agreement with her father.
Otto Hightower had assembled the council members in the throne room to discuss the succession. He put forth the proposition to have Daeron crowned since he was the last Targaryen son of Viserys.
"He is not yet of age" one of the members spoke up.
"Neither is prince Lucerys" Otto reminded, incase the man was to vouch for him instead "nor is he a true-born son of the late princess Rhaenyra. Until Daeron comes of age, I shall serve the realm as king regent"
Before any of the other noblemen of the council could agree or disagree with his verdict, the large glass windows behind the iron throne came shattering down, a few stones from the walls went flying about as well and everyone turned their backs away to shield their front from the flying remnants of glass and stone.
As the dust and smoke began to clear, little by little, the silhouette of a dragon came into view and perched on its back seemed to be a woman who slid off the saddle and walked out of the rubble and smoke and into their view.
"Mother have mercy" Alicent gasped, as if she was looking at a ghost.
"There was talk of who is sit the throne, so I heard" she spoke, hands clasped behind her back which reminded Alicent of Aemond "allow me to free you from your troubles of deciding who is to rule. I will sit the throne, just as I was supposed to anyway-"
"With all due respect princess" Otto interrupted and Y/N was well aware he was going to tell her something that would be far from respectable "it is Viserys' sons who are in line to sit the throne, and not-"
"why does the council find it difficult to support a woman?" Y/N snapped immediately "you all pray to the mother, do you not? Will you only choose to bow before a woman when it involves your personal gain?"
Otto knew the princess was short-tempered and armed with her Dragon. The last thing he wanted was to enrage Daemon's blood and suffer her wrath.
“Perhaps if you were to wed Daeron” he put forth a proposal "you would rule as queen consort"
“Wed him? I do not need to wed anyone to ensure I have your support” she scoffed, as if the idea of marriage repulsed her "the throne is mine by right, regardless if I marry the younger prince or not. Aegon usurped the throne, this I will not have you deny. Rhaenyra was publicly announced as heir by Viserys while Aegon was never claimed as his successor before the masses. And as Rhaenyra's heir I see it only fit that I should be the one crowned"
The others glanced at each other nervously. She did make a fair point of Aegon never being publicly announced as heir.
Alicent knew Y/N would be perceived as a threat by her father and she feared that he might have her executed to secure Daeron's rule. She loved the princess too much to allow that to happen.
"The council will back your claim if you wed someone of the house" she tried to persuade Y/N into agreeing to marry Daeron, for her own safety "you will be queen, just like you want. Marry Daeron and-"
The large doors opened, the old hinges creaking as the wooden doors scraped against the floor and a familiar voice boomed across the spacious throne room.
"She will do no such thing"
Y/N's eyes widened and she momentarily forgot how to breathe. Even Alicent clutched the star-shaped pendant of the seven that hung around her neck, muttering a prayer under her breath.
"Gods be good" Y/N whispered softly as she froze in place, watching the person standing at the entrance now making their way closer toward them.
Taglist: @ladybug0095 @sahvlren @bunny24sstufff @dellalyra @ellabellabus07 @champomiel @fan-goddess @lilostif16
217 notes · View notes
lu-sn · 1 year
Text
i've got this highly incoherent pete meta floating around in my head please bear with me
we know that pete is the type of person who seems open and friendly but is actually completely walled up. nobody knows anything about pete's deepest desires or fears or issues because he doesn't talk about them. he's the perfect listener, and finds personal value in checking in on people and listening to them and helping them out, and uses this (possibly unconsciously) as a shield so that no one asks him anything about himself.
so i think it's interesting to consider the exceptions to this, and what it means for him going forwards as someone dating vegas, who is absolutely not going to let that behavior slide.
let's start with the few times that pete opens up in the show, about things that are likely painful for him:
ep3: pete tells porsche he used to play heroes and villains as a kid, and now he knows there's no such thing
ep5: pete tells porsche that tankhun punished him pretty badly once before and it sucked
ep11: pete tells vegas that his dad used to beat him, and never stopped
ep13: pete tells vegas he doesn't feel human anymore and wants to die
ep14: pete tells vegas he's hungry and vegas needs to live to feed him
and one singular instance where he doesn't open up:
ep13: porsche asks pete what happened to him and pete asks him to drop it
now it is time for me to extrapolate a ton of conclusions from relatively little data. hehe
most of these can be summarized as "pete is packaging his past trauma as life experience and offering it up to people as advice / solidarity." note that the trauma is in the past, and pete is not currently experiencing it. he's able to distance his feelings from his truama, talk about it clearly and rationally, and convey the lessons he learned to others who need those lessons right now.
i think this is a way for him to seem like he's open about his feelings without actually being open about feelings that he is CURRENTLY vulnerable about. he can relate to people and connect to their pain, but conveniently is not in any pain for the other party to connect back with him. i don't mean for this to sound like this is reprehensible, on his part. it's just part of why people can think they're close with pete. he's told them things about himself! and then it's much harder to realize that he never tells you these things when he's going through them.
and then there are the instances where he is feeling so much, and is visibly losing it. notably, both of the times where he actually says anything — are to vegas! he doesn't say anything to porsche, even though porsche really tries to get it out of him (granted, he's got good reasons to keep his mouth shut). vegas doesn't even ask, though. either time.
so when, exactly, does he choose to be vulnerable?
in ep14, he tells vegas he's hungry. this absolutely does not come out of his mouth easily. and i'm not sure he would have ever said it, except it was probably the only thing he could have said to vegas to convince vegas that living was worth something. so he is still, kind of sort of, packaging his trauma for someone else. but it's mutually beneficial. if he does it, vegas lives. if vegas lives, he has something worth living for.
in ep13, though? what he's saying about himself doesn't benefit vegas at all. it is truly the only time in the show he speaks up about his pain, for his own self-preservation and nobody else's. and it's when he's been pushed so far past his normal coping mechanisms (smile, don't talk about it, keep it to yourself until it passes, it will pass) and is buried under a huge volume of conflicting emotion. he has been pushed to the brink, and he can't handle it anymore.
this is what it takes, for him to open up and be honest about his pain.
so in the future? if vegas wants pete to tell him what's wrong? vegas is going to have to:
notice when pete is feeling down (likely)
confront him about it (a little harder)
get past all of pete's deflecting without getting angry about it (unlikely, especially early on)
push him to some sort of emotional limit to actually get him to talk (doable! but can he do it in a way that doesn't rely on making pete feel like shit? dunno. is it gonna be kinky either way? probably)
and do all of this before pete gets all of his emotions in order and suppresses them (this is like playing a video game with permadeath on tbh)
in short, vegas is fucked 😂 but by god, is he gonna try. and it's gonna hurt so much for pete, in a way he's absolutely resistant to, because he just cannot be experiencing feelings and talking about them at the same time. it's gonna suck so bad. and whenever vegas gets it wrong, it's going to set them back weeks.
but eventually, there's gonna be a day where vegas asks what's wrong and pete just — answers. and it'll keep happening. and that's what healing looks like.
452 notes · View notes
lu-is-not-ok · 8 months
Note
do you think that what EGO someone manifests is based on what caused them to reach the crossroads of Distortion and Manifestation? because distortions are pretty clearly based at least a little around that given... Phillip, but I'm not familiar enough with Xiao's story to make a conclusion about that.
Soooo I know you've only asked about like, the form a manifested E.G.O takes and what might affect it, but uh, I really want to just ramble about everything we know thus far about Distortions and Manifested/Effloresced E.G.O, so I hope you don't mind me hijacking your over a month old ask for that.
Alright? Alright. Under cut because I want to pop off. Oh, also, I'm going to spoil the fuck out of Lobotomy Corporation, Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, and Leviathan. Be warned.
Let's start from the basics. What causes one to Distort and/or Manifest E.G.O?
If you've gone through LobCorp and/or Ruina, your answer is most likely going to be the Light, the final product of Carmen and Ayin's research that was released during the White Nights and Dark Days, and which currently houses the essence of both of them. However, I don't think that's the full picture.
First of all, and probably most importantly, there have been cases of both E.G.O Manifestations and Distortions before the White Nights and Dark Days, that being Kali's E.G.O, and the Bloodfiend lineages.
Now, I have not read Distortion Detective yet, so all of my sources on this are second-hand, but from my understanding Bloodfiends are a kind of Distortion that has existed far before LobCorp took place. The process in which one joins this lineage is by "recieving blood from a certain mansion", apparently implied to belonging to an Abnormality called Nosferatu.
But wait, those who have played LobCorp might be asking, aren't Abnormalities created by L Corp? How can Abnormalities exist before the events of LobCorp?
Here, allow me to talk about Cogito.
For those who don't know, Cogito was the Singularity of L Corp. A substance that, upon being injected into a person, would materialize concepts and ideas from that person's mind into the form of Abnormalities. This process is described as using Cogito as a sort of "bucket" to draw these concepts and ideas like water from the Well of Humanity, aka the (implied to be collective) human subconscious.
While I don't recall if we're ever told what the initial source of Cogito was for Ayin and Carmen's experiments, we do know that after Carmen's "death", her disembodied nervous system became a constant source of it for L Corp.
So, this tells us something important: Abnormalities are concepts and ideas that float around in this Well of Humanity given physical form, which makes sense considering how many of them are based on things such as fairytales, folktales, legends, fears, events in the City's recent history, and other general ideas that the people living in the City may have.
However, it is important to note that not all Abnormalities come from Cogito specifically. In fact, we see an example of one such Abnormality in Chapter 19 of Leviathan. We see an Abnormality we see in LobCorp, Schadenfreude, burst out of Distorted Jumsoon when the beliefs and desires he held and which were the fuel for his Distortion were completely broken down.
Notably, there is a thematic similarity between Jumsoon's Distortion and Schadenfreude, that is being the theme of observing every moment in the world.
What we see is an Abnormality being born out of a Distortion's ego death, where the moment a Distortion loses its desires and beliefs, its identity, the wish that pushed them into Distorting in the first place is the only thing left, that physical manifestation of a concept taking place of that missing self.
Did that make any sense?
Basically what I'm saying is: an Abnormality is a concept that became the self in its entirety.
As such, anything that would be able to give a concept or idea by itself physical form or sense of self, like Cogito or the ego death of Distortion, could potentially form an Abnormality. Which, laid out like that, means it's absolutely not impossible for some proto-Abnormality to form on its own, whether due to a concept acquiring a sense of self naturally, or due to the interference of some other factor we currently might not know about.
So, now that we know what Abnormalities are about, let's go back to what we were talking about: where the pre White Nights and Dark Days Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os could have come from.
We already established that Bloodfiends join the lineage due to ingesting a substance (blood) that came directly from an Abnormality.
Now, let's talk about Kali. Luckily, we get a much clearer picture on what led her to manifest an E.G.O thanks to the story on the Red Mist Key Page. Kali was the first person to wield a prototype of an E.G.O weapon, a weapon and a byproduct that was able to be extracted from the Abnormality called Nothing There. As Kali used this weapon, the ego of the Abnormality would seem to speak to her, its words becoming clearer the longer Kali used it. It would ask if Kali wanted a shell, a form of armor to protect her flesh. Though initially ignoring it, Kali started to interpret its words with her own bias, becoming torn between how much blood she spilled, and how much of it was for protecting others. This eventually leads to her momentarily breaking down, only to steel her resolve and vow to protect Carmen at all cost, this desire of which leads to her manifesting her own E.G.O in the form of an armor, a "shell" to protect her while she protects others.
So, to summarize, Kali had direct contact with an unstable version of E.G.O gear extracted from an Abnormality. Upon being broken down by this gear, seemingly on the verge of Corrosion, Kali instead steels herself in her resolve, and her desire to protect others mixed with the influence of the E.G.O weapon allow her to manifest a shell to protect herself.
Effectively, both pre White Night and Dark Days are caused because of some sort of contact with something extracted from an Abnormality. For Bloodfiends, it was physically consuming Nosferatu's blood. For Kali, it was being in prolonged contact with an unstable Nothing There E.G.O, almost becoming Corroded, but staving it off by focusing on her own desires.
Now, some of you may be asking, why is that important? That's that and this is this, the current Distortion Phenomenon is different because the Light, right?
And here, dear reader, is where you would be wrong.
Let's recap what the Light is, shall we?
From what we know, the Light is the product of the Seed of Light. Carmen's thought process was this: to save humanity, people need to be cured of a "disease of the mind" and have light returned to their souls. The Seed of Light is meant to be the medicine to this disease, something that would draw out from the human subconscious, a formless concept taking shape and becoming a literal seed that could be planted and bloom within people's minds (...is that where the term Effloresced comes from, I wonder).
We know two things that the Seed of Light requires to be fully created: the emotional catharsis of all the Sephirah and A himself overcoming their pasts, and energy in the form of Enkephalin, which is extracted from Abnormalities. Upon being released in the form of Light shining over the City, Carmen and Ayin would enter the Light itself, their essences becoming a part of it.
Interestingly enough, one of the bad, non-canon endings to LobCorp reveals that the incomplete Seed of Light would have the effect of turning people into Abnormalities! Which, makes sense, considering the main power of this Seed is to draw out formless concepts from the human subconscious and give them shape, literally the exact process that Abnormalities are created through.
However, this isn't what I want to focus on here. I want to focus on one of the components of the Seed of Light - Enkephalin. A substance that is extracted from Abnormalities, in the same process that results in E.G.O as a byproduct.
Can you see the pattern yet? Nosferatu's blood, an unstable E.G.O weapon, a Seed of Light created using Enkephalin. All of the sources of Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os are themselves either substances extracted from Abnormalities, or something created using substances extracted from Abnormalities.
Another funny thing to consider is the alternate source of Enkephalin we learn about from Limbus Company - human nervous systems. You know what other substance was extracted from a human nervous system? That's right, Cogito.
Perhaps that's why the Seed of Light had to also include emotional catharsis as an ingredient. Perhaps Enkephalin on its own being used makes it too close to Cogito, thus resulting in the same outcome. And perhaps, it's also why the Light is able to make people give form to thoughts in their own minds on such a wide scale. But, that's just speculation on my part.
So, now that this whole preamble is out of the way and we roughly know How the Light is able to cause people to Distort and Manifest E.G.Os, let's take a bit of a closer look. After all, the Light itself wasn't enough to make everyone Distort/Effloresce all at once, perhaps because it was cut short by Angela. No, the Light in its current actual form merely allows people to Distort/Effloresce, it's not the actual trigger.
Which, begs the question: what is the trigger?
From what we see in Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, Limbus Company, and Leviathan, there are two main variables that one needs to reach the threshold of either Distorting or Efflorescing.
The first is being in a state of high emotions.
Catt learning that all of the suffering their coworkers had gone through was for nothing due to the Manager having been dead all this time. Philip being at his lowest after the people who he cared about and who tried to protect him had died. Xiao losing the man she loved and her coworkers/friends one by one. Yan being forced to face where the Prescripts truly come from, and realizing that all of his attempts at working against them were in vain. Roland finally arriving at the moment he could make Angela suffer for what her actions caused. Vergilius losing Garnet and being reminded of the reason why he cared for the orphanage in the first place. Dongbeak being reminded of why she's doing what she's doing in the face of Dongrang's mocking and the possibility of her defeat. Dongrang being reminded of the better times and being forced to face just how far he has fallen.
The second is having strong, sincere desires, and the resolve to follow them.
Catt wishing that the heart could have done something in the face of this meaninglessness. Philip initially wishing to selfishly avenge those he lost, only to then break down and wish to shut the world out at all cost. Xiao wishing to not let her loved ones' deaths be in vain, to be someone that people can rely on despite her missteps. Yan's desires becoming one with the will of the City after falling into despair. Roland's desire to make Angela truly suffer as revenge for Angelica's death. Vergilius wishing to carry his sins and the suffering he's seen with him. Dongbaek wishing to be the soil that a new world could bloom upon. Dongrang initially wishing to run away from the shadow other people's accomplishments put him under, and then deciding to instead find his own path towards reaching success.
But then comes the question, what is the difference? What decides whether someone Distorts or Manifests E.G.O? Funnily enough, Chapter 18 of Leviathan spells it out.
To Distort is to fully become one with one's desire. It's to expel everything that isn't the "self", and to paint the world with that desire as well. It's making one's desires and thoughts take form through one's body, the self becomes unified and true.
On the other hand, to Manifest E.G.O is to "show restraint", as Carmen puts it. To understand and face reality as it is, yet still let one's desires take physical form, in this case as "clothes and tools". Using those thoughts and wishes rather than becoming one with them.
And this, well, succintly explains what form a Distortion or E.G.O takes on, doesn't it? It's entirely based on what desire triggered this process, as that's the concept that is given physical form thanks to the Light.
This isn't even speculation at this point. This is actually something directly spelled out in Leviathan as well.
To quote Vergilius describing his Effloresced E.G.O:
"I wear a crown of thorns upon my head, so that I may shoulder everything until my future victory. Faded laurel leaves sprout to cover all of the thorns on my head, and tears of blood flow from my eyes so I may see all the sins I'll have to bear from now on.  And the thorny path I shall travel is a curtain of blood containing my karma, a crimson cloth that covers my whole being."
...
Yeah I think this is a good point to end this post off. This already took me several hours to write, dear lord.
125 notes · View notes
marvelmymarvel · 11 months
Text
Last Goodbye
ANBU!Kakashi X Reader
Synopsis: Loving Kakashi felt like a goodbye you’re almost too scared to utter.
A/N: This is inspired by the song “Goodbye” by Billie Eilish and the fact that the ANBU breaks people down into soldiers.
Naruto Masterlist: Marvelmymarvelmaster
TW: Mentions of suicide (past comments and ideas). Pure angst/NO comfort
Lyrics:
Please, please Don't leave me Be Take me to the rooftop. Told you not to worry What do you want from me? Dont ask questions Wait a minute Don't you know I'm no good for you? Baby, I don't feel so good Bite my tongue, bide my time What is it about them? I'm the bad guy
Kakashi cocked his head as he took in your shaking fingers trying to wrap a deep wound on his side. The mission had gone terribly; if he had been a few seconds earlier, he would have been dead. But that was what being in the ANBU entailed. That was his job and you knew that. But it didn't change the fact that it's been draining you. 
It was around his sixth year, and while you had six years to get used to the sight before you, it only seemed to have made you shakier. Because you loved him more now than you did, and that scared you.
“Please,” you sobbed softly, fingers clutching onto the wrap as you urged yourself to stop the words bubbling up from your chest, but there was no stopping them. “Please, Kakashi, I can't keep doing this.”
It felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs. He had been afraid of this happening. He knew it would come but hoped he'd have more time to help you through it. He nodded before placing a soft hand on your violently shaking one. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't. You meant too much to him now. “It will only be a few more years before they’re ready to retire me-”
You shook your head at this, more pleas falling from your lips as you began to panic.
“Don't leave me.” Kakashi snapped out sharply. He tried to sound secure but his voice was shaky as he pulled you into his body. You weren't allowed to leave him. That's not how this worked. He couldn’t make it alone.
He wouldn't be able to live without you. 
Kakashi just needed you to be strong; he needed you to just be there for him. Maybe telling you how much he needed you to be with him would help strengthen your quickly crumbling composure. “Just Be-” but he stopped, finally taking in the way you were shaking within his embrace. Was he being selfish? Putting you through this misery with him? His chest stuttered below where your head lay, alerting you that he was panicking alongside you.
“I’m a monster.”
You lifted your head from his chest, eyebrows crinkling at the thick tears cascading down his face, soaking into the mask he used to hide behind. You shook your head at his statement; he was anything but a monster. He tried to stop the sobs coming from his body, fear of losing you taking over every single cell within him. “It's not true,” you whimpered as you lifted your fingers to his mask. You didn't wait for him to answer and pulled the cloth down to free him from the persona he was hiding behind. 
It wasn't healthy to do such a thing all of the time.
You sat there for a second, staring at his scrunched-up face as he tried to hide himself from you. Shaking your head, you drug your hands from his neck to cup his cheeks. Kakashi closed his eyes, visions of just going to the rooftop to end it all flashing before his eyes. He remembers telling you once: “Take me to the rooftop” after Obito died... He meant it as a joke, but it scared you half to death. 
This scared you half to death. 
“Kakashi, it's okay,” you breathed out, forehead pressing with his in the hopes that you could take away those ideas before they planted a suicidal seed in his brain. More sobs bubbled up from his chest, and his cries turned into desperate wails as he gripped your hips like you were some sort of lifeline. Like you were the only thing holding him to sanity. “I keep hurting you,” he cried out. You winced in response. How did this go from you breaking down to him losing who he was once again? It was then you realized.
You couldn't leave him.
“I told you not to worry,” you stated firmly before shifting so you were sitting on his lap. You knew that resting your weight on his body always calmed him down, and in some way, it helped you as well. But he shook his head and shoved you off of him, causing your hands to fly from his face to catch your fall. He inhaled sharply at the action, eyes looking at his hands in shock as if he didn't realize what he had just done. As if he didn't command himself to do such a thing. More regret filled his veins. Did he hurt you?
Kakashi ignited his Sharingan to take in your movements, hoping to see in slow motion any pain or suffering he may have caused you. But he saw nothing. You sighed as you crossed your legs in front of him. “What do you want from me?” 
You sounded serious and unbothered by what just happened, but in all reality, you were slightly terrified of what was happening. He’s never been so far in his mind that he didn't realize his own actions. “Kakashi, what do you need from me-”
“Don't ask questions.”
Your mouth shut as if he commanded you to, but it wasn't his words or tone that scared you into submission. It was that he was changing right before your very own eyes. This was no longer the Kakashi you knew. 
That Kakashi was dead.
But maybe you could save him again. “Wait a minute-”
“Don't you know I'm no good for you?” 
Your eyes dropped sadly to your own hands. He wasn't good for you; of course, you knew that. But you loved him. You loved him more than anything in this world. So why did you feel so goddamn sick all of a sudden being in his presence? “Baby, I don't feel so good.” you cried out softly, afraid of talking too loud and triggering the beast before you. Silence filled the space, the sound of only your cries filling the air. 
Kakashi observed you, bite my tongue, bide my time. He repeated those words in his head over and over again as he pushed away the urge to reach out to you. To comfort you. To beg you to stay. You would be free from him forever if he pushed you away instead of saying anything. 
Your eyes flicked over to his ANBU mask beside the two of you, that stupid thing. You would burn it if you could. It was all their fault that the Kakashi before you was no longer the Kakashi you loved. The Kakashi you cared for. No… This Kakashi was a machine. A soldier.
A monster. 
He watched as you grabbed the mask with a jutted-out lip, trying hard not to scream and throw a tantrum like you deserved to do. “What is it about them?”
His chest felt tight at the question. It wasn't the first time he heard the question, but he hoped it would be the last. A crack sounded out in the room as your grip tightened enough to break the wooden mask slightly. 
He didn't stop you as you only squeezed harder. He wanted you to break it. To break him. To free him from this hell he was living in. 
“I want to burn this stupid thing, but I fear you are too far gone. And the mask no longer hides the man I love… It is the man I love.”
Now that… That was new. That was what kicked the old Kakashi back into control. He parted his lips to say anything, but you stood swiftly, stopping him from speaking. You didn't look at him, couldn't look at him. You could only look at the mask that ruined him. Ripped him to shreds and left you with nothing to call home.
“Y/n”
You dropped the mask as he whispered your name, “I’m done. Kakashi, I’m afraid you’re too far gone. And while I would stay because I love you… This new you doesn't love me… And I deserve to be loved.”
What was this pain he was feeling? It felt like he couldn't breathe, as if his lungs were on fire. His body felt like lead as he watched you step over his gear and head toward his apartment door. “Please… Please, Y/n dont… Don't leave me.”
You turned away from him as you gripped the door handle for support. This had to be the first and final goodbye to him and this lifestyle. Six years of this. Six years of sleepless nights and near-death experiences. Six years of terrifying nightmares that left him shaking and sobbing in your arms. Six years of slowly watching the life drain from his eyes. Six years. 
And you couldn't hold on for a couple more.
“I love you, Kakashi, but I can't do this anymore” Your voice sounded steadier than you felt. While Kakashi felt like he was the only one heartbroken, he failed to realize you felt the same. You loved him. You loved him so much that it made you sick.
“I have to go… I love you.”
Before he could interject or plead with you, the door had closed behind you. Leaving him alone in his dark room. The shadows seemed to slink towards him as he shakily watched the door, hoping and praying you would come back. Tell him it was a cruel joke and you would never leave him.
But it never happened. He broke his steely gaze with the door and looked at his shaking palms. “Oh, gods… What have I done.” His tears once more blurred his vision as he felt your absence  in full. He should have left the ANBU sooner and done it at the first sign of losing who he was.
On the other side of the door, you had not left yet and instead sat with your back against the wood. Heart-shattering at the sound of his sobs hitting your ears. You just wanted to soothe and reassure him that you loved him. But doing those things brought you to where you are now. Still, you couldn't help but feel like a terrible human being for leaving the man you loved the most.
“I'm the bad guy.” 
Your whisper was shaky as you stood from your spot on the floor. Maybe giving him space will help him. Perhaps you two would get ice cream tomorrow and have a fun date. Maybe’s… They were always “Maybe’s” with him. Shaking your head, you took off towards your apartment across town.
Kakashi curled onto his side, clinging the pillow to his chest as he tried to imagine it was you. He needed you, and he sometimes hated it. Maybe this was good for him… Maybe if he left the ANBU and returned to being who he was… Maybe, just maybe, you’d come back to him. You weren't gone forever, no… He was going to change for you.
He was going to make sure this wasn't your last goodbye.
134 notes · View notes
dirtytransmasc · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
@for-got
This is the gist of my Quaritch theory as well, mostly because it's pretty realistic, but also because, I don't know, it's soft and mushy and will make me cry.
I imagine him going insubordinate for Spider, refusing too many orders, going behind the General's back one too many times; he loses their trust, does it knowingly, all for his kid.
Because he's tired. Tired of playing the role of a dead man, tired of reliving memories that don't feel like his, tired of sticking to the same path that got him killed. He's tired of hearing screams, he's tired of smelling ash and char, he's tired of scrubbing his hands of the blood that will forever coat them.
Most of all, he's tired of seeing his son's disappointed son's face staring back at him with contempt and disgust. He's tired of having to pick between his living, breathing son, and a cold, violent mission.
The second he leaves (with Cupcake, of course, he ain't leaving his girl behind to those sky people), he looks for his son. He doesn't really have a plan, Spider may run from him again (and he wouldn't chase him. He respects his son too much to force himself on the poor thing), Neytiri and Jake may try and kill him (and this time he might just let it happen), and even if by some grace of God (Eywa?) none of that happens, where does that leave him.
he's a colonizer, a genocider, he is drowning in innocent blood, even if it was his original self that did most of the damage, he still followed his path. he can't fix that, can't change what happened, he couldn't dare expect any Na'vi to put up with him, to pretend like his face doesn't haunt their nightmares.
in all honesty, he'd just be happy to see his boy one more time, to hold him and see him smile one last time, to know that he is safe and loved. he could give up then. spiders the only thing he has, and if the boys safe, then that's ok.
I imagine him becoming sort of a recluse, living alone with Cupcake somewhere in the woods, somewhere spider can come visit him. I feel like Jake would have some (small) sympathy, and Neytiri (who can be reasonable, I hate that people fail to see that. emotion and logic are two different things, she struggles with the later, and I hate to even call it a struggle) understands the pain of his current existence, stuck between, living a lie, playing a role; she can forgive him and not want him around all the same.
I think Quaritch will become a fragile ally in a later movie, but I know for a fact he's gonna fight to have week ends with his boy. he did all this for spider, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get a little time with him.
and spider feels so conflicted. he saved him because he saw the good in him, he stuck with him and loved him because Quaritch loved him back, because he didn't treat him like a pet. but he knows his family aches at the mere thought of Quaritch, that he is once again torn between 2 lives, even if one (Quaritch) is significantly better (spiders place in the family runs deep; he's not only adopted, but adopted out of pity and burden, he's different and can barely function in their world, and he's human. no matter what changes happen to the sully family, he will never fit in, he will never be an equal to them) he's still so loyal, especially to the one he's been with longer. He clings to his father, he still loves him, but he fears that he'll trade 1 person for his whole family. he's scared he'll lose everything.
he's like the ultimate child of divorce. it's like an eternal case of 'who do you wanna satay with for the holidays' except the holidays is just life, but it's the dread of picking one over the other, knowing it's a trick question. pick one and your shamed for ditching, pick the other and your guilted for leaving the other out and missing time with them. this is all happening when spider and Quaritch just want time to nap in the son and bind like father and son, while the Sully's make spiders life hell (they don't mean it, but spider dynamic with them is not, and most likely, will never be healthy).
they're gonna need a family therapist next movie, they already did, but I have a feeling it's gonna be a lot worse come the inevitable Quaritch redemption.
185 notes · View notes
nepnepian · 5 months
Text
Upon rewatching some Overture cutscenes, its made me realize just how close Paradigm was to getting a Ride the Lightning directly to the face when he suggested killing Dizzy. Like that is the love of his life that Paradigm keeps calling a weapon. Anyone would get agitated with that just by itself, I can only imagine how much rage Ky was physically holding back at the doctor's idea. Its also reminded me why the "Ky Kiske hates his family" bs that people insist on spreading around pisses me off as much as it does. This isn't a matter of lore being hidden in other sources, if you look in Overture in that scene, you can clearly tell Ky is not only seeing red at the idea of Dizzy being killed, but if Paradigm persisted, there is a good chance there would be hands being thrown. The part where Sin mentions that Ky could never look him in the eye is what I've seen most people cling to about him supposedly hating his family, but I have a counter argument. Think of who Ky Kiske is as a person, he's a man who values justice and protecting others at all costs, even if it would cost him his life. Now, I want you to remember why he's a king in the first place, the position was in the end forced upon him by the conclave to be their puppet of sorts. Ky is arguably one of the strongest people in this game's Canon, even SOL FUCKING BADGUY was afraid of him for a time. If Ky didn't have anything to lose, the conclave wouldn't have anything on him. Cuz what would they do? Use force? Against the man who was running the Holy Order since age 16? Talk to the P.W.A.B. and they can tell you how well that one worked for them. Even with Ky’s battle data in Robo-Ky it still paled to the original.
What makes this situation much different compared to the Bureau is that this time, Ky DID have something to lose. His family.
The conclave knew that Ky was a threat to them. The P.W.A.B. had no chance of truly stopping him at the time because Ky Kiske is a stubborn bastard that only had himself his entire life. Ky didn't have anything to lose before Dizzy and Sin graced his life. The conclave couldn't hope to silence him directly, so they went for the next best thing and held a metaphorical gun to his wife and child's heads. It no doubt killed Ky inside that Dizzy and Sin were being used as bargaining chips to a bunch of masked assholes that wanted to make sure he played nice and stayed in line. He finally had a chance to have a family, after being on his own for so long, only for the threat of it all being taken away looming over his head. Combine that with the general population still fearing Gears as intensely as when the Crusades were taking place, Ky most likely felt like he failed both Dizzy and Sin, as they were forced to live in hiding and Ky was powerless to do anything about it.
I realize I'm just theorizing on it, but given Ky’s character, it makes sense in my mind.
35 notes · View notes
notmoreflippingelves · 7 months
Text
I need to ramble more about Esteban Flores, because everything about this character and his arc seem as though it was tailor-made for me and specifically designed to make me absolutely feral.
This going below the cut, both because I do not want to spoil the entire show for my friend who is think of watching Elena of Avalor and because I go full-on apologist here and I feel like that will annoy some people.
Imagine making the absolute worst mistake than anyone could possibly make, because you are 18 and scared and stupid and tired of being ignored. And it results in you losing your family and your freedom and what little self-respect you had left because you know all of this is very much your own fault.
 And so you proceed to spend the next 41(!) years eking out a miserable existence in an oppressive state. Upon fear for your life, you are forced to be the reluctant right-hand of the evil witch-queen who conquered your country, killed your aunt and uncle and trapped your cousin in magical prison. In spite of this, you nevertheless do everything within your limited power trying to hold the kingdom together and make sure the people don't starve, because the queen certainly doesn't care about anything except greedily bleeding your country dry.
And no exaggeration, this is just what canon explicitly gives us outright in the pilot. Like that's not even getting into head canons/interpretations/common sense of what exactly this sort of life entailed for you. Because this is a children's show so there's only so much they will let us imply about living under that kind of system. Especially as a young, attractive, terrified person who is the last living member of the previous royal family who is likely being kept alive partly as a combination trophy/punching bag for the evil queen (even if the show never actually states this outright).
And then by some miracle, what's left of your family comes back after all this time. The evil queen is overthrown, partly because you yourself finally stood up to her at a critical moment. You and your country are finally free again, and what's more, you and your family are finally together again after over 4 decades. But you still feel like an outsider--partly because you always were an outsider in your family even in the better times and partly because  over the past 41(!) years, time stood still for all of them except you.
And as a result, no one ever cares to ask what those 41 years were like for you or even just if you’re doing okay. Not only because your family can’t even begin to comprehend what it must have been like, but also because they don’t care to even *try* to understand. Because the narrative has decided that everyone else’s respective traumas is worth way more than your own.  (Though tbf the narrative really doesn’t dwell much on anyone’s trauma in general but yours gets especially neglected , except to briefly play it for laughs or to remind you that your trauma is *your own fault and only your own*).
For a little while, life is pretty okay. It’s weird not having to watch your step every instant to make sure you’re not putting a toe out of line. And so you never really fully break out of your “survival mode” conditioning, making sure that you are still considered important and valuable enough to keep around.
But all the while, you know that your past—and especially your terrible little secret—is eventually going to come back to haunt you. And it does. First via blackmail and then via the return  of the evil witch-queen herself. Fortunately, she is defeated for good before she can take avenge your “betrayal of her” but you still have to deal with seeing the ghost from the past who terrorized you for 41(!) years.
And then, your secret finally comes out in the open and you are disowned by your family—the family you *just* got back a few years ago—for an admittedly super bad decision that you made over four decades ago and have regretted ever since.  Rather than face the rest of your life in isolation (as though you didn’t already have enough of that during the previous regime), you escape before you can be sent into exile. This puts you directly in the path of *another* terrifying, evil magical milf who you are forced to ally yourself with. Because you have 40+ years of conditioning that when a woman like that says “jump,” you say “how high?” if you are to have any hope of survival.  Especially given that the only people who could’ve protected you from her are the family and friends who have just definitively washed their hands of you.
Despite this, you are still trying to seek your cousin’s forgiveness and to protect her in the little ways that you can. But you are constantly getting rebuffed over and over again, and if anything, your attempts at reconciliation only seem to make your cousin angrier, and she now hates you just as much as—if not MORE than—the woman who actually murdered her parents.
Your cousin is so angry at you specifically that she actively ignores the greater threat of Witchy Milf 2.0, because she happens to see your face and is enraged. This ends up backfiring spectacularly for you both, though it does indirectly lead to the defeat of said Witchy Milf 2.0.
But guess what?  There’s no time to breathe or celebrate, because her defeat occurred during the successful summoning of a third power-mad, feminine-presenting magical humanoid and her allies. At least, this one treats you with some initial respect and actually gives you outright what you-think-you’ve-thought-you-always wanted. But she also turns your family and friends to stone in front of you as a warning of what’s to come if you dare to defy her.
But this time, you are finally done with this, have finally lost enough that you have paradoxically found your courage. You sacrifice yourself to save your cousin, and she is finally able to accept that you’ve sacrificed and changed enough that she can forgive you. And her forgiveness is so powerful and pure that it not only restores you to life but also undoes all the other evil magic. Together, you defeat this final enemy, paradoxically by banishing her to the same Underworld where your mistakes accidentally sent your aunt and uncle and her parents long ago.  Peace has been restored. You have returned for good and are finally secure in your family’s love.
And after all that, there are *still* people (both presumably in universe and in the fandom outside of it) who say it's too little, too late and that it would've been better for everyone if you'd simply stayed dead.
Like I'm just... are we really victim-blaming the character who has 45 years of unprocessed trauma and guilt (both survivor's guilt and guilt in general) because of a decision he made when his brain was still developing and he was being manipulated by an older, much more powerful person?
30 notes · View notes
blueduplicity · 1 year
Text
Lily of the valley
I tossed around the idea of posting this here instead of just leaving it on Ao3, but I wanna get used to posting my stuff here too, along with shorter/unedited drabbles.
Bear in mind, I was insanely high when I wrote this and edited it very little as a sort of challenge for myself. I apologize if it's awful, and I think this is the filthiest thing I've ever written so I'm sorry in advance for that as well LOL
CW: Roleplaying consensual non-consent. I know that seems scary, I promise it's not very intense. Dirty talk, light overstim, fem! reader, a second warning for the dirty talk.
Summary:
Really, it's not his fault that you hide your spare key in such an obvious place.
It's not his fault that you have the TV too loud, or that you didn't bother checking to make sure you were alone before stripping down to your pajamas, slinking around the house like you're begging to be toyed with.
So you can't be too mad when he lets himself in, when he loses control because how else is he supposed to handle you wearing nothing but a loose shirt and panties? He's just a man, after all.
It's okay, you're just lucky he got to you first, anyone else wouldn't be as nice.
“You can’t hide forever, baby.” That silken voice croons, far too close for comfort, taunting and even a little playful, like you’re just in the middle of a game of hide and seek. 
Kuroo is on the other side of the living room, with you wedged beside an overturned couch, hiding in the shadow of it as he wanders around, searching for you. 
Your hands are folded tightly over your mouth and nose, forcing yourself to breathe as slowly as possible. Your eyes are dry, and then blurry as they well up with tears, but you can’t blink, not even once, because you’re sure the moment you do is the moment he’ll see you. 
He kicks at an open door, the wood splintering as it tears away from the metal hinge attaching it to the wall. You clench your jaw as if that would keep you from crying out, a numbing fear coursing through your body with every pulse of your rapid heartbeat. 
“I just wanna play with you a little, don’t be shy.” He tries again, soft and almost pleading, sticky sweet like taffy pressed against the roof of your mouth. “I miss you, baby, you didn’t let me touch you for very long before running away. Where’s my brave little kitty?” 
Now he’s goading you, because even when he’s trying to be persuasive he can’t help but resort to mocking you, doesn’t have it in him to stay sweet for long when he could just try to get under your skin, make you lash out instead. 
His slow steps carry him across the room, peering through the curtains of the front window, scanning the yard to make sure nobody can see inside. It’s dark out, and it’s meant to rain, so he’s pleased to see that there’s no people loitering about the neighborhood. He wants to be sure that he doesn't get interrupted. 
“Maybe I should have knocked you out first, instead of trying to hug you.” He muses, fingertips tapping against the windowsill. “You’re faster than I thought, with quicker reflexes too. Don’t worry, honey, I won’t underestimate you again.” His smile is razor sharp, wicked in the window reflection. 
That smile widens when he catches a flash of your face in the same window, tucked into the corner of the couch he’d thrown aside in his pursuit of you earlier. 
“Oh, and you’re so smart, too.” He purrs, endlessly delighted as he’s turning on his heel to look in your direction. 
You can’t swallow your sob this time, scrambling away to the other side just as his fingers graze your arm. Kuroo begins climbing over the couch, eyes wild with anticipation, excitement because you’re only barely out of his reach and he’s missed you. 
You scream, skidding across lacquered flooring until your knees hit the ground at the base of the stairs to the second floor, half-climbing your way to the top. Once there, you drag the smaller bookshelf pressed into the wall down, letting it fall over to block part of the stairway. It won’t keep him down there for long, but you just need enough time to break line of sight so you can hide. Running isn’t an option, he has too much stamina, your only real chance is to remain hidden until you can call for help. 
Your footsteps are as light as you can make them, slinking down the hallway while you listen to the grunts of your pursuer, the sounds of books falling to the floor and tumbling down the stairs helping to disguise any errant steps you make.
You hide in a guestroom, closing the door as quietly and lightly as you can, and then you slip into the attached bathroom. You shut that door as well and fiddle with the lock, your fingers shaking and slightly numb at the tips, before cramming yourself into the space between the sink and the bathtub, drawing your legs tightly up to your chest.
He’s coming down the hallway, rapping his knuckles along the wall with little taps, searching for any glaring signs of your presence. 
“That wasn’t very nice, pretty.” He muses loudly, his voice weighed down with frustration, bitterly amused. “Aren’t you putting up too much of a fight? I’ll be real good to you, pinky promise.” 
He begins pushing lightly on any doors he walks by, just barely pressing in with his weight before moving on to the next one, still idly thinking aloud. “You were so sweet to me in the office earlier, wearing that pretty smile while you brought me a coffee. Have I told you that I love your lipstick, by the way?” He grins, allowing the husk of his voice to flow through when he drops his tone a little. “I can’t wait to see the color all over my cock, pretty girl.” 
Kuroo’s grin grows impossibly wider when, upon pressing onto the surface of one of the last rooms in the hall, the door creaks open, having not latched properly upon closing.
He flicks on the light, catlike eyes gleaming gold as they scan the room quickly. Pillows and sheets on the bed perfectly pristine, unruffled, the closet door pulled completely open and empty, no clothes for you to hide amongst. 
The shut bathroom door might as well be blinding with the way he immediately locks onto it like it's a beacon, striding over and leaning his weight into the cold wood. You hear it creak and shut your eyes, knowing that you’ve run out of time. 
“Well well, I wonder what could be here?” He murmurs, the tap, tap, tap of his fingers making you flinch in time with each one. “Is that my princess in there? My sweet girl? The love of my life?” His voice grows sickly sweet with each syllable, until he’s practically spitting sugar like venom with the way it morphs into something mocking. 
He slams the palm of his hand into the door, his lips stretched thin with the width of his smile when he hears you cry out from inside. 
“Let me in, baby, don’t make me fight for it.” He croons, as if the twisted sharpness of his voice moments prior was nothing but an illusion, something you misheard. “Come on, open up, please?”
His fist slams into the door again, rattling it. The taste of copper fills your mouth when you bite into your lip, adrenaline buzzing like cotton in your head, thick as a blanket.
He doesn’t stop. Kicking at and ramming his shoulder into the patterned wood until it cracks, the hinges straining against his strength, all the while he keeps talking to you, just as sweet as honey coating your tongue. 
“Can’t wait to be inside you, pretty. You’re gonna be so tight, jus’ wanna watch you stretch around my cock.”
Another rattle, your breath is cement in your lungs. 
“Do I fuck your throat before or after cumming inside your cunt? What do you think, baby? Wanna clean me off? Or do you wanna get me ready?”
He grunts then, his voice pitched low and ragged, frustration bleeding through the thinly gilded timbre. “Open the fucking door!” 
One, two, three more times he hits it, and then nothing, silence. You can see his shadow stretching across the bathroom floor, but he hasn’t moved, he’s eerily still. 
Your whole body goes numb when you see the handle begin to turn, so slowly that you have to blink several times to be sure that’s what you’re seeing. 
There’s no room for doubt when it begins to open, a grinning face waiting in the crack. “Fast, smart, but clumsy.” He sighs, clicks his tongue sympathetically, pushing the door completely open and stepping fully into the bathroom, his eyes smiling more than his mouth at the sight of you, cowering on the floor. 
“Now, now. That can’t be comfy.” He reaches for you, and you bolt, but his arm snaps around your waist and drags you against his chest, though you kick and scream and try to claw at him until he releases you, he doesn’t. His grip is like iron, hands lifting you by your hips, ignoring the way you thrash in his hold before he plops you onto the counter. 
His hips force your thighs apart as he wedges himself between them, ducking down to press his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling slowly. “Got you.” He breathes, sounding almost reverent despite the filthy way he’s been talking to you since he broke into your home.
His hands squeeze your hips, fingers pressing tight into the soft plush he finds there, but then his shoulders begin to shake, his body quivering as it bows over yours until your back is against the mirror. 
He’s laughing. 
“I can’t believe you forgot to lock the door!” He gasps, biting his lip to try and stifle the bubble of giggles that threaten to break free. 
You groan. “You have no self control, do you?” 
His hands find their way to the back of your head, cradling you gently as he tips your face up for a kiss, peppering your lips with his own until you’re smiling and easing into him. “Never.” He admits easily, then the kisses slow, each one longer than the last, lingering until your hands are fisted in his shirt and your legs are wrapping around his waist.
“This isn’t part of the game.” You murmur into his mouth, lips parting as he licks into you with a soft, indulgent noise, his hips rolling as heat begins to build once more at the base of his spine. 
“Need to check in.” He replies, softer than a whisper. “Color? Tell me you’re okay.” 
Your body melts, all soft and silken as you lean into him, molten beneath his touch. “I’m okay, Tetsurou.” You breathe, the tip of your tongue tracing his bottom lip. “Wanna keep going, I’m green, you’ve got me.” 
He relaxes, nodding as he steals one more kiss. “I’ve got you.” He agrees, letting his forehead rest against yours for a beat. 
You reach up to ghost your fingers along his jaw, swirling down to circle the hollow of his throat. “Are you okay?” You ask, gently. “If you’re uncomfortable with this, it’s alright for us to stop. My comfort isn’t the only comfort that matters.” 
Kuroo smiles and tucks his chin down so he can kiss the tip of your index finger. “I’m okay.” He assures you, leaning back and rolling his left shoulder twice, eyes shut in an expression that is far too relaxed for the situation. 
A few minutes pass, giving you both time to come out of the sweet, sappy haze that had fallen over you. The energy and momentum die, a little, but you feel better for it, a safe spot in the middle of your first scene. 
He lifts your hips up, just a little, rolling them in slow circles so he can grind his cock against your clothed slit, letting out a heavy exhale as if breathing out all of his saccharine feelings, leaving only the lust and the thrill of your chase. When his eyes open, he smiles, but it’s too crooked, twisted at the corners in something almost closer to a snarl. 
“I don’t know why you were being so difficult, baby.” He murmurs, bringing you up harder against him, the cold marble countertop digging into your lower back as he pushes you roughly into it, honey calcite eyes brightening with something wild. “Just wanted to fuck you a little, s’what you get for wearing such a cute outfit to my office.” 
‘It was just my uniform!” You want to say, but then his hands are sliding beneath the hem of your top, shoving the material up over your breasts. 
He brushes his lips along your collar bones, taking his time as he kisses his way down your chest, fingers following the arch of your spine from base to the top, then back down to pluck at the clasp keeping your bra on. “You’re so soft.” He breathes, his kisses growing hotter and messier the more skin he uncovers, pulling your shirt off completely and then letting your bra fall to the ground. You try to close your legs after he pulls away, but he pries them apart with eager hands, slotting himself between them easily once more. 
“Ah-ah, bad girl.” He scolds you lightly, pressing the pads of his fingers into your cunt, feeling the way the cloth sticks to your slick folds. “Look at you, so excited. I can’t believe you tried to pretend you didn’t want me.” 
You grit your teeth, turning your face away so you won’t have to look at him, the faces he’s making, but that only exposes more of your neck to him, a smooth expanse of skin that he’s just as eager to tend to instead, teeth scraping over your pulse to make you arch into him. 
“Atta girl.” His praise is slightly muffled as he kisses and sucks bruises into your throat, one hand splayed wide over your lower back to encourage you to grind against him, the heavy swell of his cock catching on your clit and making you cry out. 
He repeats that motion, again and again, rutting his hips into you until his breaths stutter and he has to lean on the sink as well, his weight keeping you pinned beneath him. 
“Gotta be inside you.” He rasps, strained, like his voice is too thick for his throat. “What a good girl you are, all dressed up for me.” 
He snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, a telling grin on his face that is too sharp to be genuine. His control is fading rapidly, the remnants of his ego melting as the desire to fuck you grows. He’s not gentle when he yanks them down your legs, grunting about how lucky you are that he’s too considerate to just rip them off before he’s standing back up and gripping your thighs tightly, pressing them over his hips. 
“Take my cock out, baby, want you to grind yourself against it until it’s wet enough to fuck you.” 
You don’t move, frozen in place while he shamelessly grinds against you, and his sly smile widens. Wordlessly, he takes one of your hands and presses it to the hard outline of his cock, wrapping your fingers around it through the thin material of his slacks and fucking into them, letting his head fall back as his abdomen tightens up. 
Even just that feels good, you have him so fucking pent up from having to chase you around just to touch you. 
“Take it out.” He repeats, the warning heavy in his words. 
You swallow against the sand in your throat, your palm flexing in his grip before he removes it, watching you with slightly narrowed eyes. Your fingers tremble as they undo his pants, pulling the zipper down slowly. Too slowly, he hisses impatiently and bucks into you, you feel the way his boxers stick to his skin, just as sticky as you. There’s a taunt on your tongue, but you swallow it, stretching out his waistband so you can reach in to wrap your fingers around the head. 
The noise he lets out is sinful, eager hands cupping the back of your head and bringing you in for a kiss, your teeth clicking together in his rush to be closer to you. You pull him out fully, the ring of your fingers tight as you stroke down the length of him, smearing the pearlescent fluid beading at the tip over as much of him as you can. 
He catches your wrist, tsking softly. “Not like that, baby. You know what I said.” 
His mouth muffles your answering whine, tongue prying your lips apart while you guide his cock to your dripping cunt, feeling embarrassment bubble between your ribs at how easy the glide of your slick folds makes him. You squeeze the tip of it to hold him in place, feeling his body buck into the tight press of your fist, instinctively trying to fuck into it. 
But the molten heat between your thighs is even better, and it quickly becomes more about your pleasure than getting his cock wet. Your brows are furrowed in concentration, lashes fluttering as you struggle to keep your eyes open, to watch as you rub yourself against him, the way he pulses in your hand and glimmers with your slick. 
He loves that look on your face, frustrated and yearning all at once, you don’t even realize how hungry you look for more of him. 
“That’s enough, sorry baby this is gonna sting, can’t wait anymore.” His voice is gritted, like he’s speaking with gravel in his throat, but despite his words Kuroo is gentle when he presses the head of his cock into you, knocking your hand away so he can take you by the hips and hold you steady. 
The first couple of inches already feel like too much. You’re too tight around him, like stretched velvet that threatens to suck him in further with every twitch. He groans, clenches his jaw, tries to hold himself back from slamming into you and fucking you into the counter. Usually he’d prep you, stretch you out, but that chase got to him more than he expected it would and he needs to be inside of you now. 
When he finally bottoms out, he feels like he’s going to pass out, his hand hurriedly wrapping around the base of his cock so he doesn’t spill too soon, refusing to let this end before he’s gotten to the best part of the scene. 
“Greedy thing, sucking me in like that.” He murmurs, free hand cupping your chin to tip your face up, your eyes dewy and soft when you meet his gaze. “Ran so hard just to take my cock so eagerly, should have just let me bend you over that couch from the start.” 
You shiver, pussy tightening at the thought of him ravaging you like that, bent over a fallen cushion while he fucks into you no matter how hard you try to struggle. Your voice thickens in your throat, a heady whine slipping free as you squirm, unable to stay still as your body screams for more, for him to move. 
He laughs, a little breathless, finally thrusting slowly into you, barely able to pull out far enough to push back in with how tightly you squeeze him. “You can’t even pretend that you don’t want it, should I fuck you harder so you cry? It’d be more convincing then.” 
Your nails dig into his shoulders, raking down until there are vivid streaks of color trailing down his arms, blood dotting along the thin lines. His grin turns a little feral, and his hips buck outside of his control, the steady pace ruined. 
He thrusts harder then, relishing in the way you cry out at the unexpected shift in rhythm, the slap of his skin on yours echoing louder than it should in the bathroom. It takes a minute of him carefully moving you around, lifting your hips up and pressing forward until the head of his cock rams into a spongy spot inside your cunt that makes you scream. 
You claw at his back helplessly, legs locked like steel around his waist as you arch into him, the curve of your spine calling for his hand to press into it, forcing your back to bow a little more. 
“Sl–ow down!” You whimper, a little lightheaded at the abrupt surge of pleasure, far more intense than you had expected. 
Kuroo laughs, an ugly sound that’s almost manic, his other hand dipping into the sliver ot space between your bodies, eager fingers finding your clit and rubbing with tight little circles that make you tremble. “Slow down?” He pants, more breathless laughter following shortly after. “No, no baby, you don’t get it slow. You’re gonna take it exactly how I wanna give it, okay?” 
You whine, any attempt at a retort dying in your throat when he deviates from his rhythm once more, only pulling out halfway before shoving himself back in so your voice hiccups on whatever words had tried to come out. 
“Nod for me, baby, show me that you understand me, tell me that you’re gonna take my cock like a good girl for me.” He grits his teeth, eyes screwed shut as he fights off the creeping, cloying sweetness of his orgasm. “Fuck, say it, now.” It’s a plea disguised as a command, his body trembling as he leans over you, sweat rolling down the sides of his face, a tendon in his jaw popping. 
You bite your lip, shaking your head violently until it nearly smacks into the mirror with how hard he fucks into you as a response, an angry growl spilled against your clavicle. 
The heel of his palm grinds against your clit, fingers splayed wide over your abdomen to help keep you pressed into the sink, ensuring that you don’t move even an inch while he drills into the messy heat of your cunt, over and over as his voice pitches higher, wanton and wholly uncaring of how loud he’s becoming. 
“So fucking good.” He whimpers, a little slurred, drunk off of how good you make him feel. “Cum for me, baby, gonna make you cum whether you want it or not.” 
That makes you tighten up, the muscles in your body clenching as a wave of arousal ripples through your lower belly. He grins, stuttering out a laugh as he presses his mouth to the hollow of your throat, his voice vibrating against your skin.
“Want me to? Want me to force an orgasm outta you? Try to stop it, then. Keep yourself from cumming, let me take it from you.” 
Your eyes roll back, lips parting on a ragged moan that makes him throb painfully inside the hot clench of your sex, a curse falling from the depths of his voice box that’s too raw to be anything but anguished. 
“Fuck, fuck, get so tight when I talk like that, want more?” Kuroo’s barely keeping it together, he’s just seconds from completely coming undone, but he has no intentions of stopping, not until you’re satisfied. Even if it kills him. 
You press your lips tight together to stop the needy whine of ‘more!’ from slipping through, your legs twitching against his sides as you try to keep yourself from snapping, trying to keep yourself from falling over the edge. Your teeth are gritted so hard that your jaw aches, muffling the desperate noises that want so badly to crawl up your throat and fill your mouth with sweetness. 
There’s no warning when he cums, you were so focused on halting your own orgasm that the telltale twitching of his cock, the bruising way he clutched at your hips, the familiar peaked pitch of his voice was lost on you. He crushes you to his chest, peeling your sticky skin away from the mirror while he lifts you up completely, forcing you off and onto his cock in short, quick thrusts that have him gasping for air and you seconds from falling over the edge yourself. 
You expect to have a break when he inevitably slows, when he pulls out of you to avoid overstimulating himself, but he doesn’t stop. He does set you back on the sink, his palms flat on the marble by your hips, but he doesn’t slow even a little. 
“Tetsu–rou!” You cry, your chest heaving because it feels like you can’t get enough air. You’re wound up too tightly, and he’s so hot inside of you, his voice is ragged in your ears as he whimpers and whines while fucking you through the sensitivity. 
“Cum for me.” He demands, low like gravel, as if he’d gargled a shot of whisky and smoke. “I’m going to make you cum, be good and take it, yeah?”
You don’t have the voice to reply, a silent scream fills your mouth when the building pressure at the base of your spine snaps. He moans with you when you squeeze around him, too hot and slick and it’s agonizing with how good it feels when you flutter around his cock, even though it nearly hurts he can’t help riding it with you, half-hard and raw he fucks his own cum back into you before it can seep out.
When the ringing in your ears stops and the white distortion in your vision fades, you’re slumped forward in Kuroo’s arms, your face tucked against his neck while he carries you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. You whine softly, pressing sleepy kisses along his jawline until the low rumble of his laughter warms you. 
“Just a minute, sweetheart.” He murmurs, turning his head to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder. He’s tucked himself away but left you naked in his arms, though you realize once he has you sprawled on the bed that it’s so he can put you in clean, comfy clothes. 
“Want one of my shirts?” He asks, rummaging through his side of the dresser. 
You hum, rolling over onto your side so you can keep him in your field of vision. “Yes, please.” 
He chuckles. “How sweet, you’re so docile now.” 
“Don’t jinx it.” You sit back up slowly when he approaches you, loose red shirt in hand. You allow him to help you put it on, along with a clean pair of panties, and then he’s crawling into the bed with you after shedding his work clothes, arms finding home around the curve of your hips.
His forehead touches yours. “I love you.” He whispers. 
You tilt your face up, the tip of your nose brushing against his, back and forth. “I love you too.”
His hands rub wide, soothing circles into your lower back, as if already anticipating the soreness that will be present when you wake up tomorrow. “I’ll clean up later, okay?” He kisses you sweetly on the mouth. “Get some rest, you’re gonna be in a lot of pain when you wake up.” 
You snuggle closer, rubbing your thighs together to savor the ache lying between them. “Worth it.” 
His laughter is soft and adoring, the warmth of him all encompassing as you sink into his embrace. Kuroo tries to coddle you after scenes like this, but he knows as well as you do that you’ll wake up with him to clean up later. The couch has to be righted, you have to pick up all of your books, and the trail of clothes that you left in the bathroom will need to go in the laundry. 
But right now, your partner is loving all over you, whispering his adoration and admiration into your skin between kisses, thanking you for playing along with him and praising you for taking him so well. You drift off sore but sated, feeling cherished and secure.
Safe. 
---
So...yeah. Hope that wasn't too crazy, need some water? Check in, make sure you're good, stuff like this can sometimes be a bit much for people and it's important to make sure you're comfortable.
102 notes · View notes
halliescomut · 7 months
Text
They Met as CHILDREN!- A Wedding Plan discussion
So...I know a lot of people have feelings about the "they knew each other as children" trope, and that's fair. It has the potential of being done well, but a lot of times is used rather poorly. Jun & Jun I think is a good examples of what CAN be done, while Oh My Sunshine Night is a not great example. But I don't think that this is an attempt to use that trope in the same way. Let me explain...
The biggest emotional impact of the most recent episode was learning about what started Lom and Yiwa on the path they're on. Learning the story of how they discovered their parents had a fundamental hatred of who they were was their canon event. It changed their whole lives almost overnight. And could you argue that perhaps they could have gone to their parents? Sure, maybe. But as someone who watched more than one queer friend get kicked out of their home for coming out or being openly queer, I know that it is simply not that easy. And even if their parents are just flat out terrible people, and there was never going to be any changing their minds and they should just cut their losses...it's not that simple. Even an abusive parent is loved by their kids. And in a culture where family is something that holds so much importance, you can't discount the difficulty of that type of very permanent decision. I don't believe Yiwa and Lom stayed because they were afraid of losing their inheritance, maybe as kids, but not as adults. I believe they stayed and stayed closeted because they loved their parents so much they thought it would be better to pretend to be straight than risk losing them.
The flip side, or other side of the coin is the interactions we've seen between Nuea and his family. His mom and his cousins. Heck, even the interactions we've seen between the family and Lom. Nuea's complete lack of fear of judgement or reprisal when he revealed that he slept with a groom. That he was clearly openly out with all of his family and loved and supported. What his Mom said to Lom when they saw them off at the airport.
"You may have a hard future, but if you can't endure it, come home. Lom, you'll have a new family. This family will accept you."
So now take that sort of post-credit scene of Lom encountering Nuea when they were maybe 8-10 years old at most, and think about how different Lom's life would be if that hadn't been only a fleeting moment, but the start of their relationship. And I don't mean a romantic one, but simply a friendship. How different would Lom and Yiwa's life be if they had seen and been around a family that was loving AND open-minded. Perhaps at 15 and 13 they wouldn't have felt the need to hide forever. They would have known that they had somewhere to go and people to support them, if their parents remained close-minded. Because we see how confident Nuea is, both in his sexuality and his position in his family, his position at work. And yes he has a limited amount of privilege, but nowhere near what Lom has. And that privilege is part of the prison Lom had been trapped in, while Nuea was free to discover himself.
Tumblr media
So, I think that's the point of the scene. To be a sort of Sliding Doors moment, to give you pause and make you consider how different the life of a queer person CAN be when they have supportive loving families and communities. To remind us that there are still so many queer people stuck in unsafe homes with nowhere to go. And perhaps to give us a little reminder that it's important when you have the power and the privilege to speak up for those that don't.
42 notes · View notes
troius · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Way back at the beginning of this arc somebody asked me if I thought Ulquiorra fell in love with Orihime.
I deferred my answer at the time, partly because I wanted to get through the story before rendering judgment on it (I hadn’t read it in a decade), but also because “did he fall in love with her” seemed, to me, to somewhat trivialize a relationship with tremendous importance to the story, going far beyond “was he into her”.
Because sure? He seems into her in the early chapters after her arrival in Hueco Mundo, in the extremely annoying way that middle school boys act around their crush. He shows up in her cell apropos of nothing to neg her. He spends his time in Hueco Mundo thinking about her. He gets in a philosophical argument with her for no real reason (besides her being somebody he wants to impress). And he repeatedly provokes Ichigo, Orihime’s crush, into fighting him, in what sure seems like a romantic rivalry of sorts.
But tell it like that, and you miss the real emotional core of the story, the reason that people like me say this is the hands-down artistic peak of the series. Because Orihime’s not just a girl who Ulquiorra thought was pretty. She’s a person with very strong, admirable values, and though Ulquiorra is in hardcore denial of it for 99% of the story, that’s what attracts him to her. He feels a need to tear it down, of course, because it makes him feel weak, this idea that an ideology other than the one he’s lived his life by could be closer to the truth. And yet every time he tries to tear it down, Orihime pushes back. She reasserts herself. And her friends-- Chad, Rukia, Renji, and especially Ichigo and Uryu-- back her up at every turn. She refuses to give in to fear, because she can’t, so long as her friends are with her.
And that what makes the climax of this story so beautiful. Because Ulquiorra has won the argument! Not only does he defeat Ichigo and Uryu rather handily, but then he loses to a version of Ichigo that has abandoned morality, pretty conclusively proving that Ulquiorra’s philosophy is superior. And Orihime slips into despair.
But only for a minute. Because even knowing he’s going to die in a few short moments, Ulquiorra jumps in, not even to save Orihime directly, but to stop her friend from being hurt. He puts her values above his own. He’s preserving those bonds that Orihime so treasures, and in doing so, creates a new bond, a “heart” that will last even beyond his death.
So yes, I suppose you could say he fell in love. But that doesn’t really tell the half of it.
161 notes · View notes
sans-guy · 7 months
Note
For Bitty Advice anon:
The care and keeping of bitties is a bit more like rabbits than like hamsters or gerbils: They're social creatures, like us, and they like company. They do better when they're included in part of your family instead of relegated to a specific section of the living area. That being said, they do like having their own dedicated space for privacy to retreat to if they get overwhelmed!
It's like having a tiny roommate who's sort of also your dependent.
Personally I lean towards the larger AUs so I feel more confident handling them because the tiny ones make me so nervous when people talk about a 2 inch skeleton sharing their bed (my guy tops out at 14 inches, and a lot of 1:3 scale doll furniture/novelty seasonal decor furniture fits him just fine), but they do have a range so you want to take into account what kind of space you have for them and how much time you're willing to dedicate to carrying them around and whether or not you're the kind of person who's going to get one of those chest wraps everyone's putting their cat in on tiktok to tote a small skeleton around while you're doing chores. If you're rescuing it can be a gamble who your personality is going to click with, so you may want to start with an all-purpose beanbag/repurposed squishmallow until you know what scale you're working with.
And you can't skimp on the entertainment! Don't just give them your phone and turn them into ipad monsters! They like puzzles, and crafts, and books, and if they MUST be home alone for long periods or they're just not feeling the other options, you can even get little desktop video game arcade consoles like pac man or even a DDR machine that works just like the big version for not too much. ~20-30 bucks for hours of entertainment.
“Basic” Sansies are great for first time keepers, since they’re mostly content to cuddle and snooze and are okay with being left alone for long periods like work hours. Papyrus-types will tell you they’re also okay being left alone but they get anxious and lonely more easily and just won’t cop to it out of fear of losing your approval. Papyrus-types (LilBros and other swap variants not included) tend to be high energy and high stimulation, and can be picky eaters from what I hear. They can be a bit fussy about their surroundings and like their spaces to be clean, but they’re lovely companions if you have the time and energy to dedicate to them. I have never witnessed less-conditional love than a Papyrus-type for their caretaker, regardless of skill level or number of mistakes made. That being said, I don’t personally recommend them solo for beginners on account of the fact that they may not speak up if they’re unhappy for fear of losing your approval and begin to deteriorate without notice. If you're a beginner caretaker and absolutely MUST have a Papyrus-type, please also include a Sansy-type with him. Sansies can act as mediator and translator when it comes to anxious Papyrus-types getting what they need.
Sorry this got long! I only meant to drop a note or two and I got off on a tangent. Regardless! Good luck with the adoption and I hope you find someone that suits your current situation!
excellent, fantastic advice anon. but what bitty type do you have that is 14 inches tall
29 notes · View notes
Text
My Armand Pain™ thought of the week has been circling around his fear of making fledglings and his general skepticism towards it and how most of the time I tend to relate it to his cult experience but this week I’m also giving credit to how bad Marius fucked him up haha. 🤗
Like idk if this outs me either as a weak reader or as a FAKE ARMAND FAN but I think, because of the way he talks about it that to me it registers as quantity over quality; ie saying it NEVER works or that it’s happened again and again makes me feel like he’s referring to his centuries as a cult leader and the experience he would’ve had navigating everyone’s relationships and interpersonal drama and generally being vampire HR and having to approve/deny requests to bring people in. Saying that it always fails/never works implies to me that it’s something that he’s seen many many times. And like, obviously it’s about Marius as well, but, I’m just thinking a lot about the Marius angle this week.
Because I think a lot about like, the parallels between Venice & the Devil’s Minion, like the way Marius treated Armand and the way Armand treated Daniel. I think also as a bonus that getting Marius’s POV in B&G adds a lot of depth to their relationship and I sort of extrapolate a lot out of it, for both relationships.
But thinking about Armand not wanting to turn Daniel, there’s the usual “You don’t want it, it’s actually a curse” stuff but the “Our relationship will never be the same if I do this.”
He’s seen it how many times in the cult--the barrier comes between them and it’s never the same. It’s another irony about immortality and the price you pay to live forever, or the price you pay to keep someone forever.
But I’m thinking a lot about how his relationship with Marius influenced it, too. And in both directions! Like, to Armand, Marius was this like majestic creature, a magician!, otherworldly and maybe saintly! Maybe demonic! Who knows, he’s a mystery! And he can’t read Marius’s thoughts anyway, so when he turns he doesn’t lose that. What he does lose, maybe, is the mystery of it. Marius changes from an ethereal mystery to Some Guy. And Armand is never his peer; he is not brought over and ever treated like an equal. Marius’s power over him shifts from simply being a preternatural creature to that fact that he’s old and strong, and he makes the choice to wield that over Armand and position himself as the master.
I don’t think Armand had an interest in treating Daniel that way, even if he entertained turning him. In fact, I think Armand yearns for an equal.
BUT THEN I wonder this all the time, I wonder if Armand actually believed Marius was dead, or how often he changed is mind about it, or how often he forced himself not to acknowledge it. Because Marius being alive means Marius didn’t save him, and when he starts meeting more vampires and seeing how they lose the magic & connection when they get turned, I wonder if he thinks Marius got bored with him. Especially with the narrative that he only turned Armand because he was mortally injured; I could see that festering to “he didn’t actually want to turn me.” (Put a pin in this for the family cycle that he does the same to Daniel 😦)
So it’s like devastating to read this towards his relationship with Daniel. And in both directions again. Worrying that he’ll be sick of Daniel, and worrying that Daniel won’t think he’s special anymore. The grief in turning Daniel isn’t just about him losing his life & mortality, it’s also that they lose their relationship as they know it. In some ways it’s like a breakup.
Armand is a person who’s lost his love ones and been rejected over and over lol. I can’t imagine that it hasn’t sculpted his sense of self worth. So even if he took the approach “I do not wield my power over Daniel, I will treat him as an equal, I will not be bored with him” I don’t think he can shake the idea that Daniel won't stay in love with him because the love is conditional.
There’s sort of an absent father cycle trope here, too, in that Armand didn’t have a good maker (for a long time) and doesn’t know how to be a good maker, and in the end it’s too frightening for him to even try. Their failure might be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
In the end like, I think this is very much part of VC lore that this happens to a lot of couples, but there are cases where they overcome it, too. I think even Marius & Pandora are a case of a couple that overcame it, even though the barrier became a logistical problem when they got lost.
But there’s this space I like to think about, post-canon, modern world, wondering how much they can learn and teach each other and heal and overcome it. There’s something about the series being OVER now that makes my imagination run wild about where else they would’ve gone, or how they might have evolved.
So maybe it’s not too late for them!!!!!!!!!!!!!
64 notes · View notes
femme--de--lettres · 3 months
Text
thinking about grieving, today, and how it's a profoundly personal process. how everyone does it differently, how everyone has a different speed at which they can weather the storms of i miss you why did you have to go and my life isn't the same with you in it and i wish you could see me now and because of who you were, i am who i am.
thinking about how none of the stages tend to hit when you'd expect them to—or even when it would be convenient for them to do so—and how they belligerently refuse to pass with the sort of rapidity one would usually request of an unpleasant feeling. thinking about how the feeling of loss becomes second-nature—this person is gone, the wound is healing, i will survive this—only to be reawakened with one foolish motion, one errant word or phrase that unlocks pandora's box of memories, of sadness, of grief.
of how grieving and chronic pain are so bizarrely attuned to each other. how decades of knowing that motion A begets pain B can be forgotten when i allow myself to move absentmindedly, how years of knowing that thought A begets sadness B can follow the same pattern.
thinking about how fucking insane it can feel to go through the world as normal when you know that your world isn't the same as it normally is, when you know you're missing an integral part of it. of how daily actions feel forced, of how tense conversations only serve to remind you of the reality of the situation you’re in—how none of your words seem quite right anymore, how all of them feel too simple, too thin to express what’s happening.
thinking about how loss doesn't feel like a large enough word to hold the emotions of grief. maybe it isn't meant to be, maybe that's why there are stages of grief—so each word can carry its weight in sadness, so the burden isn't foisted by just one word in solitude.
thinking about how a community does the same, how a good one, a kind one, a loving one gathers a person in their arms and elevates them above the waters of grief. how they extend a hand to the one seemingly mired in them.
how they love that person. how they care. how they support.
thinking about how grief forces you to feel things, even when you don't want to. how it demands your attention, even when you're certain better things deserve it. how it steals your sanity for the briefest of moments while you watch the people around you react with confusion at your attempts to keep it satiated.
thinking about how grief, as shannon barry put it, is just love in a heavy coat. about how it allows a love to endure long past mortality, about how it creates a legacy, even amidst the devastation it leaves in the immediate aftermath of its presence.
but then—
thinking about how grief likes to reacquaint itself with me in cycles, likes to let me get to the edge of glory only to drag me into hell instead, as i grapple with my inability to process losing—again and again.
thinking about how it waits until i’ve just started to believe that i can live with myself in the atmosphere it’s left behind, only to reappear and remind me that i can’t.
i don’t know how to exist in the world as grief leaves it, and i never did.
thinking about how sometimes, i'd rather the grief be silent than be here, whispering in my ear and reminding me of things i'd rather forget. thinking about how grief, when dressed to the nines in all her splendor, makes me want to never interact with anyone again for fear of her return.
thinking. thinking. thinking.
16 notes · View notes
colubrina · 3 months
Note
I will die on the hill that if Bellatrix was around in Pygmalion, she would’ve despised Remus and made no secret of it. Regulus doesn’t seem at all fond of his brother-in-law, the kindest thing he says is to wonder how Remus tolerates Sirius’s passions which does carry the implication that Regulus thinks Remus has no passions, but he is at least willing to be civil to Remus, likely to avoid his brother feeling he has to choose between his Hayden and brother (and he’s already been willing to be disowned in order to go through with the marriage, even if he just went “yeah, fuck that” wrt following his disownment. Regulus is probably lowkey terrified his brother wouldn’t choose him, which is actually fascinating. The hatred of Remus being born of a fear of losing Sirius and anger that Sirius chose being disowned over breaking up, but Sirius didn’t really lose anything in this process and doesn’t know how to walk away from his family) since Regulus does not know if he’d come out the winner. Bellatrix would have none of this civility, that half breed piece of filth stole her baby cousin (and I also think all the cousins were raised together in Grimmauld, based on Kreacher being really fond of Narcissa and Bellatrix), and she spends most of the time stuck in Remus’s proximity plotting ways to murder Remus with no blowback on her or her family; she’s pretty close to a plan so she’s hopeful Remus’s days are numbered. She would be the main reason Remus never attends family events, because he can feel her murderous inclinations toward him but when he brought this up to Sirius, Sirius more or less went “yeah, that’s just Bella. Try to avoid her I guess” because Remus forgot the cardinal rule: the whole family has the most fucked up relationships with each other and Sirius can excuse a whole host of unhinged things with “that’s just How It Is” because he grew up with this behavior and doesn’t yet realize it’s deranged. Had Remus known he’d have to still be around his in-laws in spite of them disowning Sirius (and Remus has a theory Sirius has been reinstated by this point, why the hell else would Narcissa and Bellatrix be sending him handwritten invitations to their family dinner in 4 days with a line saying “we will see you there” that feels more like a threat than anything else (and Sirius says this is probably a war meeting, but this just proves his point about the reinstatement and also Remus has never heard of a war meeting with champagne and all sorts of fancy food), but he’s too afraid to get confirmation), he would’ve thought twice about marrying, maybe they could’ve just dated for the rest of their lives. Basically it all goes like this: Bella and Narcissa are planning homicide because Remus “stole” Sirius (except not really, Sirius is still theirs, bless their possessiveness) Remus worriedly tells Sirius “I think your cousins are trying to murder me,” and Sirius doesn’t even look up from the gift catalogues he’s scanning as he replies “I’m sure you’re fine, that’s just how they are. If it really bothers you, you don’t have to be near them” (it’s Narcissa’s birthday coming up and she made it clear she expects Sirius to get her a gift and attend the family dinner. The real losers in this situation are the in-laws, forced into proximity with people they thought were out of their lives, only to discover the Blacks have a very interesting interpretation of disowning people) (it is me and my ADHD and the parentheses against the world).
Lucius: so your sister and cousin are both disowned
Narcissa: yes
Lucius: then why are you wrapping Christmas presents for them?
Narcissa: it would be incredibly rude to not have a present for them at the Black Yule Party, Lucius, what is wrong with you?
Lucius: they're going to be at the party?
Naricssa: of course
Lucius: and they are disowned
Narcissa: I really don't understand why this is so hard for you
11 notes · View notes
aita-blorbos · 7 months
Note
AITA for not eating my only friend's soul?
Background Context: I (18F) and my friend (18F at time of death) had a complicated relationship growing up. We hated each other and continue to hate each other, but our hate for each other was kind of comforting in a way? For our entire childhood we were the only kids around, and it gave me something to define myself against, which was especially helpful after my parents passed.
Recently, the head of our empire called me to a sort of training camp to become a political officer. I needed to bring a bodyguard, but after my original bodyguard died under mysterious circumstances, she was the only other body fit enough for the job. I had her trained up for it, and as much as I hated to admit it, she was probably better than my first choice.
Once we got to the camp, and once we'd stopped snapping at each other long enough to cooperate, we found we actually made a pretty good team. We beat the trials set before us, and in one instance she even saved my life. It got to the point that I was willing to open up to her about some shameful aspects of my life, and instead of judging me for it, she accepted it and me without reservation.
Things were going relatively well until one of the other people at the camp turned out to be a traitorous element, and the traitor attacked us. We ended up discovering that in order to achieve the political office we were testing for, we would need to perform a ritual and devour the soul of our bodyguard. We were close at that point, and losing her was unacceptable to me, which I made clear to her. I told her that if it was at all possible, she should save herself and not worry about me.
When the fight started to turn against us to the point that death seemed certain, she sacrificed herself in order to carry out the ritual, which gave me both the strength to finish the fight and the political office I had been called to achieve.
I was devastated. Losing her felt like the entire universe was crumbling down around me. Nothing and nobody could ever replace the bond that we had. What's worse, she had specifically gone against my instructions in such a way that would result in the complete and irreversible obliteration of her soul. I couldn't stand the thought of it, so I made a choice.
I wrote some instructions to myself, and then had an unscrupulous acquaintance alter my brain to remove all memories of her to prevent me from completing the assimilation, knowing that this would stunt my abilities in ways which were potentially disadvantageous to me. In the past few months, my mental state has deteriorated rapidly, and I fear I have been something of a drain on all parties involved.
I've only recently become aware enough of this to know that she's furious at me for it, and she says that all she wanted was for me to eat her so I could live. In all due likelihood, I am going to die in the immediate future because I lack the power that consuming her entirely would have given me. I don't regret it, because I would rather die than exist in a universe without this person who I hate and love so dearly, but she's angry with me for 'not doing the one thing [she] asked of [me]'.
Am I The Asshole in this situation?
Edit: I swear to Jod, the next person who makes a "your mom" joke about the "eat her" wording is getting my bony little foot inserted directly into their rectal cavity.
23 notes · View notes