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#that is such a very important moment to show
d1xonss · 2 days
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Cigarettes After Sex
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 11
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) and a lil bit of angst
✧ Word Count : 5.6k
AN ~ Not a request but I had this idea that I just couldn't get out of my head. Plus I've been in the mood to write something a little spicy since you guys liked the Older oneshots so much. Hope you enjoy!
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Your eyes stayed focused on the pages of the book you were reading in front of you in the smoke filled garage, occasionally turning the pages to continue on with the chapter. In the background you could hear the tools clinking around, along with a few curses that fell from his lips when he couldn’t get something just right. Every once and a while you couldn’t help but look up and stare at him for a few seconds, knowing the real reason you came out here to keep him company while he worked.
Over the past twelve, long years you had known Daryl, you still didn’t exactly know what you were to each other. Some would call the two of you friends, and though that may be true, you always knew there was something a little more there than what meets the eye. And you knew he felt it too, but neither of you were willing to admit that out loud. Too hardheaded, you supposed.
It always caught your attention when he left a few lingering touches on your skin, how he embraced you so dearly as if you were the most important person in the world, or even how he occasionally left a small kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but think he did all of these things for a reason, as if to ease you into something that he was always terrified of. And hell, maybe he was easing himself into it too.
You always knew he was never much of a romantic person, he never quite showed interest in anyone else the way he always did with you. Though when he finally did open his heart up to a woman named Leah all those many years ago, he got absolutely crushed in the process, leaving you heartbroken for him as you witnessed him go through it all. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would work out between the two of them because you knew he deserved someone that would treat him right. And though that person may not have been you, it didn’t matter, as long as he was happy. That’s all you had ever wanted for him.
However, you couldn’t help but notice ever since he got hurt, he had been slowly pulling away from you. Not in a way that was drastic, but you always seemed to notice the little things. He had completely stopped showing you affection whatsoever which was very out of character for him considering how close you were. All of the little things he used to do that would make you smile, he had brought to a halt without warning. The only thing that he really did now was just a small squeeze on your shoulder, and that’s only if you were lucky.
It frustrated you slightly, not because of his sudden wall he built up, but because subconsciously he thought you would hurt him the same way she did. He was now scared that the same thing would happen all over again. And it bothered you in a way he could never understand. Because after all you had been through together, he still didn’t seem to know you at all.
“Pass me that screwdriver, will ya?”
Your thoughts cut short when he started to speak, absentmindedly nodding your head as you turned towards the toolbox that was placed right next to you. You dug through them for a moment before you spotted the familiar red handle, grabbing it and stretching your arm out to hand it over to him.
He met your hand halfway as he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks.” he muttered with a small smile, the cigarette still dangling from his lips as he spoke.
You nodded before watching him for another moment, tilting your head to the side, “What’re you fixing up anyway?”
He shrugged as his eyes stayed down, “Just some repairs…nothin too fancy.” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as he worked.
“Ah.” you muttered with a small nod, going back to your book as you assumed he didn’t want to be bothered while he focused.
Though upon hearing your small mutter, the quietness taking over the space, Daryl subtly looked back up at you for a moment. He knew things had been different, way different than what the two of you were used to, and a part of him felt bad. Mostly because he knew it was his own fault. He had pushed you away when you had done nothing wrong, and he felt guilty for it every single day.
With that in mind, he cleared his throat as he took a puff from his cigarette, “Ya still want me to teach ya?” he asked, his tone growing softer than before.
You glanced up from your book again, seeing the small smile he had on his face as he reminded you of something you had requested a long time ago. You had rode on the back of his motorcycle many times before, but a part of you wanted to learn how to ride all by yourself. And he clearly remembered.
A smile wormed its way onto your face as well as you nodded, “Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”
He nodded in return as he went back to tuning up his bike, “Gotta start ya off slow though. Can’t have ya crashin into some tree the first time ya get on.”
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself with a roll of your eyes, “Right, we probably wouldn’t want that. But I think I’ll have a pretty good teacher…I’m not too worried.”
His heart swelled, though you couldn’t see, but that comment touched him in a way, “Yeah?” he asked as he looked back up at you.
You nodded again, “I trust you.”
You trusted him. That little comment meant more to him than you could even fathom. It meant that after all the things he had put you through, all the things he regretted, you still loved and trusted him just the same. He couldn’t help but pause for a long moment as he contemplated all of that, how only a few little words could mean the absolute world.
Though when he was lost in his own mind, the cigarette that he now held between his two fingers, slightly burned his skin as some hot ash fell from the tip. He let out a small noise as he shook it off, only now noticing how smokey the space was from how much he was chain smoking with you in the room. He knew you never cared, but a part of him still felt a little bad.
“Sorry.” he muttered as he raised his hand to fan the area a bit, “Didn’t realize how much I hotboxed ya.” he chuckled a little.
You laughed it off as well, waving him off, “You know I don’t mind. Actually I kinda like the smell.”
He raised his eyebrow a bit at the unexpected comment, looking down to the stick in his grasp as he thought about your words for a moment, “Ya never told me that.” he muttered.
You shrugged, “Never really came up I guess. But I don’t know, it’s always kind of been comforting.”
Daryl silently knew what that meant without you even having to explain. And that only made his chest fill with even more warmth than before, knowing he was the reason behind your words. He knew he meant a lot to you, but just hearing you say that his bad habit was somewhat of a comfort to you, it almost made his mindset shift.
You absentmindedly closed your book as you noticed he grew quiet, “You know any cool tricks?” you asked with a smirk.
He huffed quietly with a small smile, wordlessly taking another hit and holding it for a moment before effortlessly blowing it out in small spurts, the smoke forming into little o shapes in the air. You nodded to yourself as you watched him, “Solid.”
He chuckled a little, “Thank you, thank you.” he said as he bowed his head a bit.
Tilting your head a little, you thought to yourself about any more little tidbits he might have experienced, “Have you ever shotgunned it?” 
He raised an eyebrow at you, “Who’s askin?”
“Me.” you smiled sweetly.
He found himself chuckling again, shaking his head as a few memories came to mind, “Uh yeah…yeah I have.” he admitted a bit sheepishly, hoping you wouldn’t ask for any details.
A hum passed through your lips in response, opening your mouth to speak again, though he seemed to beat you to it, “You ever done anything like that?”
You scoffed, “Who’s asking?”
But he didn’t answer you. He only stared at you with the same small smile, however, there seemed to be something a little more behind his eyes. Though you couldn’t tell what that was, it intrigued you slightly. “No…” you answered honestly.
“Ya wanna try?”
It felt like your heart had dropped and settled into your stomach, swearing that you heard him wrong. “You’re not serious.”
But the smile on his face only grew a little, confirming to you just how serious he was as he nodded for you to come closer to him, “Come here.”
In all honesty he didn’t know what he was doing, and seeing the shock on your face only made the small pit in his stomach grow further, though he didn’t show it. He couldn’t really think in that moment at all about how this could be perceived, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you. Suddenly having a craving for it, having been without it for far too long.
A few beats of tense silence passed before you finally found the strength to stand to your feet, moving closer towards him as he stood tall as well. You tilted your head back a bit as you looked up at him, standing just a few inches away as you almost waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. Because in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were doing. 
His eyes traced over your face for a moment, almost wanting to ask you to stand a little bit closer to him, but ultimately he refrained. He knew he couldn’t be greedy with you, not when you were already so precious to him. He only held the cigarette out towards you, watching as your delicate hand took it from his grasp, all while never removing your gaze from his.
“Go on and take a long drag.” he instructed, his voice coming off in an anticipating whisper.
You only nodded your head in response, placing the end of it in between your lips as you slowly inhaled all the smoke it had to offer. Daryl couldn’t help but stare down at your lips the entire time, he studied you in the most mesmerizing way it almost caused you to choke on your own spit. Yet you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you grow a little frustrated all over again.
Your heart then fluttered when the smoke filled your lungs, taking the cigarette away from your mouth as you leaned up on your tiptoes to get closer to him. His hand instinctively came up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you even closer to his lips, feeling them barely brush against each other before the blissful feeling would soon wash over the two of you.
Exhaling the smoke, you blew the thick cloud right into his mouth, hearing a quiet groan leave him in response. It surprised you how good it felt, how your skin practically ignited with fire at his simple sound of enjoyment, it made your mind wander to a very dangerous place. His hand didn’t stray away from your face as he inhaled the smoke until he physically couldn’t anymore, the craving he felt only building to a new level as a part of him wanted to taste you. Just for a moment.
But the thought vanished, everything crashing down in an instant as he felt you pull away from his mouth, clearing your throat a bit. His eyes fluttered open to see you standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the two of you had never dared to cross this line before in the past.
“Well, I guess now I can cross that one off the bucket list.” you joked with a small, forced laugh.
“Do it again.”
Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as he spoke with zero hesitation in his tone, not even acknowledging that you made a comment at all. “What?” you asked quietly.
He took a small breath before speaking again, repeating the phrase, “Do it again.”
If you weren’t stunned before, you sure as hell were now as you stood almost frozen before him. To say it was one thing, but to repeat it with such confidence was another. He was serious. What started out as just a suggestion, now turned into something a lot more real.
But you found you didn’t protest. Because you wanted it too.
You then held the cigarette back up to your lips, inhaling it all over again as you were surprised you didn’t cough even once in the whole process. His eyes practically lit up as he saw you repeat the action, mentally preparing himself for the familiar feeling that would hit him all over again. But the thing he couldn’t get past was that he had never felt it before now. He only felt it with you. And it was very surreal.
Your perfect lips parted from the cigarette after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, moving back up to him to exhale the smoke into his mouth once more. The man breathed it in as if he needed it to stay alive, his hands coming up to your arms to hold you in place as if he was scared you would pull away again. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not even if you wanted to. The slightest brush of your lips made your breath hitch, but before you could even register what you were doing, you pressed your lips firmly to his. It almost didn’t feel real.
Daryl responded immediately, instantly bringing you into him as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you closer to his chest. Your hands went up to the sides of his face, tilting your head a bit so your noses wouldn’t clash so much, the kiss intensifying in just a split second. It was like all the years of the built up tension, the built up feelings, were now finally being unleashed after so long of waiting. You supposed before it was never the right time, but now, it couldn’t have felt more perfect.
His tongue moved to run along your lips almost teasingly, begging for an entrance as his hands gripped you even tighter. And you accepted his request, parting your lips for him and feeling his excitement grow as he didn’t take it for granted. His tongue swirled rapidly in your mouth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he tasted your sweetness. You shivered slightly at the low rumble you heard from him, something about it turning you on even more as you had never heard that sound from him before. It was like a switch flipped.
He continued to absolutely devour your mouth, his hands now running down the curves of your body in a slow and teasing manner, taking his time. You gasped softly as you felt your skin almost tingling under his touch, wanting to feel him everywhere. So without thinking, you quickly moved your hands down to his chest as you frantically began to try and tear his shirt off of him. Your fingers worked on each of the buttons, though you couldn’t see what you were doing, it all felt like it was happening so fast you almost had no time to prepare yourself.
But in a fit of panic, Daryl quickly pulled back from your mouth as the feeling of you trying to take off his shirt finally registered in his mind. He still remained close to you, but his sudden actions stopped you from yours, your hands freezing in place as it was clear you had pushed him too far. But your expression was filled with confusion and concern as you couldn’t understand why he looked almost scared to go any further.
He sighed as his eyes remained closed, almost ashamed to look at your face as he gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I…I can’t.” he whispered.
Your eyes seemed to widen as it clicked in your mind. He hadn’t done anything like this since Leah. Since he had been burned so badly by her. Since he was left shattered and heartbroken because of what she did to him. He opened up to her unlike anyone else, and she left him. A lump formed in your throat as the realization set in for you, seeing just how scared he was for this to potentially happen to him all over again.
“I can’t do this, I…I can’t lose you too.”
You sighed softly as you shook your head, your hands tilting his face up a little more, “Hey, look at me.” 
He simply shook his head, his eyes remaining closed, “Daryl, look at me.” you pleaded quietly.
When he did finally open his eyes, you could see he was starting to tear up, breaking your heart even further. Not only to see how much he was hurting, but how much he was truly terrified to lose you. Although in your mind, that wasn’t even a possibility.
“You couldn’t lose me, okay? Ever.” you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You know me…I would never hurt you like that. Never.”
Upon hearing your voice reassure him so sweetly, his tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, watching as he swallowed thickly to try and pull himself together. But you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. You understood more than he probably realized. Which is why you were quick to wipe them away with your thumbs, leaning up to kiss the ones you had missed in hopes to offer him even more comfort.
He shuttered under your touch, quickly finding your lips with his own again as he kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head steady as his lips were filled with passion. You responded to his kiss with hesitance, not wanting to push him again as you didn’t have a clear response to how he was feeling. But once you felt him take your hands, guiding them back up to the buttons on his shirt, you had your answer.
In a flurry of hurried kisses and laughs, nearly tripping over one another as you tried to make it back inside the house, the two of you finally landed on the couch in the living room. Neither of you really cared about trying to make it all the way upstairs, almost as if it was a silent agreement that you were both impatient. You panted heavily as each piece of fabric was being discarded onto the floor faster than you could even realize, yet his hands moved across your skin with such ease and gentleness. The action alone told you a thousand things, and yet he didn’t need to say a word.
You quickly lowered yourself to your knees the second you saw the opportunity, getting in between his legs as he sat on the couch. His eyes widened at your actions, “Aye, you don’t gotta-”
But his words were cut off with a groan as you lowered your mouth to the tip of his dick, darting your tongue out to slowly swirl around and tease him the smallest bit. You knew you didn’t have to, but you wanted him to feel special for once, you wanted him to feel important and loved. And besides, you just couldn’t help yourself as your mouth practically watered at the sight. And the small noises he was letting out as you licked sensually along his shaft, was almost like a reward of some kind.
He threw his head back slightly as his hands went up to hold your hair back for you, feeling you teasingly lower your lips just a little at a time to take more of him in your mouth. It was almost like torture with how slow you were going, but it was also the most enjoyable torture he could even endure. His muscles twitched in anticipation and he was already beginning to sweat, clenching his teeth together all the while.
“Come on,” he muttered breathlessly, talking more to himself than he was to you.
But you still took it as a sign, seeing he had enough and finally lowered your mouth even more to take him further. A shaky moan left his parted lips at your actions, hissing slightly when he felt your teeth barely brushing against him as well, though it wasn’t enough to hurt. Just enough to get his attention. You then began slowly bobbing your head up and down the length of him, swirling your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks to really make him squirm. His hands tightened around your hair in response, another low groan echoing around the room as he basked in the state of pleasure you provided.
His breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, growing even more sensitive to you as your pace began to gradually pick up, trying to take even more of him in your mouth. You couldn’t lie though, he was bigger than what you had experienced in the past, which made you almost nervous. But hearing what you were doing to him so far, it gave you the right motivation you needed to keep going.
“F-Fuck.” he breathed as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, feeling your hands running up and down his thighs as you tried not to gag. Though he felt you struggle a bit, pulling your hair up slightly as if signaling you that you could ease up if you needed, but you didn’t. He felt too good in your mouth for you to want to stop.
Your head then moved a bit faster, taking him as deep as you could as you heard his whimpers and moans, not even trying to hold them back anymore. He wanted to make it known how good you were making him feel, just the sound of it was enough to make you wet, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your spit soaked him completely, making it almost easier to take him entirely in your mouth as you felt him hit the back of your throat almost every time with each pass.
His breath hitched, “Oh shit,” he muttered as he tried to regulate his breathing, “Ya need to get up here…come on.” he almost pleaded.
And you didn’t need to be told twice, feeling how hard he was now he was nearly throbbing in your mouth, knowing he was close to falling apart. So your lips slowly parted from his aching dick, leaving a few lingering kisses behind before you slowly stood back up to your feet with a smile. Looking at his face now, he gazed at you as if you put all the stars in the sky, as if you painted him the most beautiful sunset you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. Or as if you had given him the best head of his life.
He watched as you wiped your mouth from the spit that nearly dribbled down your chin, quickly reaching forward to pull you in and crash his mouth against yours, licking your lips completely clean. You giggled in response to his eagerness, attempting to remove your thong as it was the last thing in the way, struggling to kick it off your ankles. Though the moment it hit the ground, you instantly moved forward and broke away from his mouth for only a moment, straddling his hips as you hovered on top of him.
The man nearly gawked at the sight of you, “God…” he muttered as if he couldn’t find the words. But you knew what he was getting at, knowing that his actions always spoke louder than his words ever could. And he only proved that further when he lowered his mouth to one of your breasts, sucking gently at your nipple to elicit a small whimper from you.
You could feel his lip curl up in response to your little noises, his hand coming up to gently massage the other with his rough fingers. The scratchiness of his calloused palms made it even better somehow, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine as you lowered yourself a little more onto him in response. He hummed at your actions, encouraging you to continue as his mouth worked wildly along your breast.
One of your hands then moved down to gently guide his tip towards you, running it up and down your slit to gather the wetness that pooled there. Your chest heaved up and down as you were almost overwhelmed with the tingles running through your entire body, nearly causing you to shake. 
Daryl’s mouth then dragged all across your skin, leaving a small trail of small hickies along your chest, groaning as you continued to play with him a little. Your other hand came up to run through his hair, tilting your head back a little as you dragged his dick up to circle around your pulsing clit. That seemed to cause you both to gasp, the slow and tormenting teasing beginning to be too much as Daryl quickly removed his mouth from you, his hands moving to your hips as if to position you in the most perfect way he could.
You followed his lead as your hands moved up to his shoulders to steady yourself, feeling him move his dick down to your entrance to align himself with you. And when you finally sunk down onto him, it felt like absolute heaven. A long, slow moan left your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing a harsh grunt escape him as he tried to refrain from pounding into you. He knew he needed to take his time, wanting to draw this out for as long as he could as if it were the first and last time. He hoped for more, he prayed for more, but he knew it was never guaranteed.
His forehead fell to rest in the middle of your chest as the two of you basked in the pure errotic experience, slowly managing to move your hips once you were ready. It was slow at first, gradually easing into it as you lowered yourself back down onto him again and again, your hands moving to grip the back of his hair. He groaned as he felt you tug a little at his roots, but in all honesty, he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it.
You moaned softly as you rocked your hips against his, pulling almost all the way off of him before he filled you completely once more. What you were feeling was almost indescribable, not having felt it with any other man you had been intimate with in your entire life. But with him, it felt so different, so incredibly good. Like his body was made for yours, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece you had been missing for far too long. And you weren’t the only one feeling like that, with him squirming beneath you, it was just a sign to not stop your movements anytime soon.
You bounced on him at a steady pace as you balanced yourself, feeling his hand travel down to rub slow circles along your clit with his thumb. You nearly cried out in response, your heart racing out of your chest, “Oh fuck…yes.” you breathed as his pace quickened.
“Yeah? Ya like that?” he asked as his face moved close to whisper in your ear, feeling his teeth gently bite down on your earlobe.
Your mouth fell open in response as you gasped, nodding your head frantically, “Yes…yes.” you moaned as you continued to rock against him, feeling your wetness drip all over him with how aroused you were.
“Mmm,” he hummed his mouth traveling down to kiss along your jawline, “You’re doin so good sweetheart.” he breathed as he held back a groan, “So good.”
His praise only spurred you on more, your fingers tugging a bit harder at his hair which caused him to groan, thrusting his hips up into you to match your pace. The sinful sounds that escaped you should never be heard by anyone, you couldn’t even believe you were the one making them. But he was the one to cause all those little reactions, adding something more to push you over the edge. And it was working too, you had felt it ever since you were down on your knees in front of him. The familiar tingling in your stomach was building to the point where it could spill over at any moment.
He panted heavily as he began to suck on the base of your neck, “I love you…God, I love you.” he whispered.
The words threw you off guard for a moment as your eyes widened, but you didn’t stop, nor were you scared to say it back. “I love you too.” you responded breathlessly.
That phrase had gone unspoken between the two of you for years, constantly avoiding saying it to each other for no reason at all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or just the fear of the feelings not being reciprocated. But for whatever reason, this moment alone brought it out to the open. And it couldn’t have felt better.
Daryl thrusted deeper into you upon hearing your response, causing you to gasp as you felt the string finally snap inside you, releasing your orgasm as your muscles twitched. Feeling you squeezing him, he cursed as he quickly pulled himself out of you in one swift motion, cumming all over your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vision went black for a moment as you slowly came down from your blissful high, not a word being said for a few minutes at least as you both tried to regain yourselves. 
His head rested against your chest again, his lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses up your skin as your eyes were still hazy, leading them up to your neck where he nuzzled his face, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed in response, running your fingers through his hair as you thought to yourself for a moment, finally finding the strength to speak.
“Did you…really mean that?” you whispered hesitantly.
He pulled his face back to look at you, his head still too far up in the clouds that he clearly didn’t hear you. The big grin on his face was evidence of that. “Hm?”
You huffed with a small smile, “The whole…I love you thing…did you really mean it? Or was it like the heat of the moment.”
His brows furrowed in concern as he gently cupped the sides of your face, “Of course I meant it. I love you.” he repeated again, as if to make sure you really heard him.
You smiled in slight relief, “Did you mean it?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yes.” you said with a breathy laugh, “I just…wanted to make sure.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, darlin,” he said as he leaned in to rub his nose against yours lovingly, “I’ve always loved ya…my dumbass just took too long to admit it.”
You shook your head in response, “It’s okay. I understand why.”
He sighed quietly as he thought about how much he may have missed out on, how much went down the drain just because he was scared. Not only to have his heartbroken, but to potentially lose one of his best friends if you didn’t feel the same way he did. There was always a risk, but he let the fear consume him, and now he was kicking himself for it seeing how easy it was to be with you. He should’ve always known, and now he felt he was too late.
You quickly noticed his change in his expression and gently tilted his chin up so he’d look at you, “Hey…what’s wrong?”
He shook his head, “M’ just…m’ sorry.”
“For what?” you asked in confusion.
“For not actin on this years ago. For pushin ya away when I was hurtin just because I was nervous about it happenin all over again.” he stopped suddenly to gather his thoughts, “I just feel like I wasted so much time.” he finished with a whisper.
Your face was filled with worry about hearing him apologize for something that he had nothing to be sorry for. It hurt you seeing how much this was affecting him, knowing that the two of you should be happy that it finally happened. Not wanting to dwell on the past.
You leaned in to gently kiss his lips for a moment, pulling away enough to speak, “Well, it’s a good thing we got all the time in the world now.” you smiled.
His eyes slowly filled with a little more hope, “You mean…”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I love you.” 
He let out a small breath he was unaware he was holding, pulling you close to press multiple kisses all over your face, “I love you too.” he whispered, continuing to trace his lips wherever he could reach, igniting an infectious laugh from you.
It seemed his prayers were answered. 
~ Thanks for reading!
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tritoch · 3 days
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i know a lot of people (very understandably) dislike the paladin job quests in ffxiv, particularly HW, but i do think it's fun that, now that the pre-ShB MSQ revamp is complete, paladins now have a very cool and thematic in-game storyline that happens without a word being spoken: the development of passage of arms.
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none of the below is directly stated in the script, but imo it's a fairly obvious gloss on what the game presents, if you assume a paladin warrior of light. spoilers for all expansions through the end of 6.X.
in the new version of steps of faith, as vishap breaks through each ward protecting ishgard from attack, lucia mounts a final desperate effort to hold him back, with a very familiar looking animation:
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but even lucia can't hold back vishap's flame alone, so the temple knights surge forward to assist her. their efforts make the shield visually more powerful and larger. the temple knights here band together in defense of ishgard, and their knightly resolve to protect their home is the difference between victory and defeat.
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lucia and the knights do ultimately succeed in defending the last ward, as you have to defeat vishap before their shield falls or you lose.
later in heavensward, obviously, we will get ffxiv's most famous (failed) attempt at blocking something with a shield.
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this moment can be read as fairly impactful on the warrior of light's development; as i've noted elsewhere, after the trauma of watching haurchefant bleed out in their arms at level 57, at level 58 paladins learn to channel their magic into healing (and it's called "clemency," or mercy. mercy for whom? who was guilty?), and as someone pointed out on that post, at level 58 dark knights used to get "sole survivor", letting them heal in response to a marked target's death.
for a time, you literally carry haurchefant's shield with you, and 3.3 very much literalizes in genre fashion the idea that even when you are standing alone, your fallen friends stand with you. you don't need to call any allies to stand at your side and raise their shields with you because they are already there, in spirit.
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stormblood marks a pretty important turning point in the warrior of light as a combatant, in my opinion, and the text makes this clear in several ways. first, in pretty much all your jobs, you've now far exceeded your trainers and are pioneering new techniques. this is no less true of paladin, which for 60-70 abandons any trainers at all for you to show off your peerless skills in a tournament.
second, stormblood is straight up a story about you getting stronger. at level 61, zenos kicks your ass. at level 70, you kick his ass. why? because you fought and got stronger and developed incredible new techniques and became a one-man army.
for a lot of classes, this story lines up nicely with the big rotation changes or flashy new finishers on the way from 60 to 70. SMN is now busting out bahamut and casting akh morn; RDM gets verflare and verholy; DRG starts harnessing nidhogg's power directly through dragon sight and nastrond.
the tanks are divided in two: warriors and gunbreakers get huge damaging upgrades at 70 in the form of inner release and continuation, each of which lets them hit the same button many times for lots of damage and satisfying animations. paladin and dark knight get more protective abilities; dark knight gets the blackest night, and there's been plenty said about that already by pretty much everyone.
paladins get passage of arms. instead of a relentless new attack (and you get requiescat at 68, which is a way bigger deal for your dps rotation), your big reveal at 70 for zenos in your fight in ala mhigo is a superior way to protect your party, a shield that lets you stand for your allies so they never have to fall for you again. it's lucia's same shield, except you need no allies' shields to reinforce you, proof of your martial prowess and your ability to transcend limits, and perhaps in truth a reminder that you never really stand alone.
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in many respects passage of arms should really feel like a paladin signature move to you now if you are playing it at this point, because you should be popping it in pretty much every fight (you are using your mits, right...?). basically every FFXIV fight has at least one big AOE with downtime that warrants passage of arms usage, usually after the mid-fight add phase with slowly filling bar. since that AOE usually drops during downtime, there's no reason not to pop passage of arms (which otherwise restricts your movement and actions), and even on normal, sometimes every little bit counts on a damage check even if it means dropping DPS (thinking here of harrowing hell P10N on release, which was...less consistent for a lot of roulette parties than you might hope).
so from 70 onward, passage of arms is in a sense a paladin warrior of light's signature move, and certainly the one a player gets to most actually enjoy (since if you're using it, you're by necessity not doing anything besides moving your camera and admiring your sick animation). it doesn't have any competition in terms of spectacle until confiteor, and those you're usually throwing out in the middle of movement.
it's such a signature, in fact, that the only other person shown using your one-person version of passage of arms is your greatest admirer, who studied your legend for over a century.
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and it's when he fails (should've popped arm's length, bud) that the warrior of light decides they can't let their friends fall for them, and sends them away with the transporter beacon. this is all wrong: you were meant to die for them, not the other way around. yours is the shield that stands between your allies and defeat. it is you who will win this passage of arms and break your opponents lance. and you do.
and then later, when they need to quickly establish zero's domain as a place of fallen grandeur, the home of someone who once believed in heroes but is now a cool and cynical vampire hunter d, what do they use? a decayed statue of someone in the paladin endwalker gear doing the passage of arms animation, of course.
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from a visible instantiation of knighthood as a joint effort to defend what is sacred, to a tribute to the fallen friends whose memories stand by you and animate you, to a symbol of the wol's power as emulated by their allies or darkly mirrored in other shards.
not bad for a mit button you hit once per fight and otherwise never think about!
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sharonccrter · 2 days
Text
I saw this really interesting video, which talked about my two biggest gripes with challengers' discourse. Which are that everyone keeps saying Art is the heart of this movie, and secondly, the insistence that Patrick doesn't love Tashi, only Art. The creator pushes back against these two narratives, and I wholeheartedly agree. Patrick is arguably the heart of this movie.
Two of the most important scenes in the movie are the churro scene and the scene between p/t out in the storm, and they both centre around Patrick.
The entire movie is about passion and purpose in life, and Patrick is the passion.
I mean, a lot of people assume Patrick didn't really have feelings for Tashi, but the only person who says that is Art. Who is vying for Tashi and is his biggest competitor. The reason I empathise with Patrick is that he is genuine and loving to Art; he does love him. However, we are shown no evidence to suggest that Patrick is this shitty boyfriend, apart from what Art says when he's trying to get into Tashi's head because his jealous. We find out that they're talking every week while he's on tour (normal relationship shit). It's Art who insinuates that Patrick is cheating while on tour. The only person in this movie who says Patrick doesn't love Tashi is Art, and it's obviously very intentional.
I think the reason both Tashi and Art push Patrick out of their lives is because he forces them to comfort parts of themselves they are not yet comfortable with. I mean, it's obvious why Tashi would react that way to Patrick; she's just lost the most important thing in her life. However, I think it's tragic from Patrick's point of view as well. I mean, what did Patrick really do? He got into a fight with his girlfriend because she hurt his feelings.
And no, he's hurt was not about Art. The fight made him feel unimportant, which made him feel like she didn't actually care about him. And that's where Art comes in, because who was going around telling Patrick Tashi didn't give a shit? You bet ya. Art. Art absolutely got into his head. And even if he clocked it, in that moment, he still allowed it to get to him because he was emotional and upset. And because he was too hurt to support her, he was thrown out of Tashi and Art's lives.
And here's the thing, Patrick never saw Tashi as an idea. He saw her as a real person, unlike Art kinda did. Patrick wasn't going to let Tashi treat him like shit just because she was special. And, tbh, if Tashi hadn't gotten injured, I think it's something she would have eventually been grateful for. But instead, she got hurt; she pushed Patrick away, and Art slid into his place, telling her that she could be his entire world and the star. That's not healthy, and sorry to stay a little manipulative.
And let's talk about Art. Patrick and him were literally fire and ice. They always had this underlying desire. They were perfect opposites. Let's face it: Art could never replicate what he had on the court (and off) with anyone else. But instead of confronting his feelings, he took the first chance he had to get Patrick out of his life.
The girl I was watching said it perfectly, "Art and Tashi allowed themselves to find consolation prizes in each other and allowed them to run from parts of themselves they didn't want to comfort and in turn enable each other's worst habits."
Art tries to become a tennis superstar so Tashi can live through him, and Tashi gives him a family so he can finally be confident in who he is. But is there any passion? I don't know; I think at some point, it drained; nothing about what I saw on screen apart from their initial get-together screams passion.
Cue Patrick walking back into their life and showing them how they can feel. Art was always going to let Tashi live through him, but that was never going to be satisfying for her. Tashi needs to find a way to create an identity for herself, separate from him. And I believe it'll be the only way she'll live a satisfying life. That's why they need Patrick: to make them realise that and to help them rediscover their passion.
I think people think that Art is the heart because Patrick admits to being a piece of shit. But the truth is, they're all dicks; Patrick was just the only one who was willing to admit it.
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aerahyasashi · 1 day
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TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW
Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌”
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╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?
╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.
╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.
╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.
Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.   
Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like
“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”
You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.
And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.
You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality. 
In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.
The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.
And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.
Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.
And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.
You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.
Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.
And that was your biggest mistake.
His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.
Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.
Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.
As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.
Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.
His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.
Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.
Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.
Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile. 
Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.
Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?
Satoru is the strongest after all.
Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.
One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with. 
The realization dawned on you that all of these  events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission. 
🔪🔪🔪
Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.
Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.
Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.
Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.
You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.
The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.
The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue. 
Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.
As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.
“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”
You froze.
“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”
The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.
“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?” 
You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.
“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.
“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.
Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.
“I-i..”
“I-i wasn’t i swear—”
You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat. 
His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re trying to leave me..”
“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.
“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”
Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.
“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”
Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions. 
“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..” 
“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.
“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.
His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.
“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.
“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”
“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”
He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.” 
And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.
You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.
When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.
“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.
“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.
 “Crazy?” he repeated.
“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.
“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.
Your breath hitched.
“What...?” your eyes widened.
“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.
“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.
You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.
Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.
“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”
But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.
“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”
“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”
Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.
“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”
You phrased it in different words.
And yet...
He was still lost in it.
“What are you saying suguru?”
Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering. 
“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”
he whispered.
“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.
“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”
He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.
“S’toru... Stop...”
When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure. 
“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”
You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.
“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.
You understand it now.
“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.
“Huh?”
“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”
Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.
Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?
“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”
You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.
“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”
A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.
White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.
🔪🔪🔪
His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.
Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold  your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.
And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.
All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.
“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.
You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.
Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.
It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.
Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.
He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.
“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.
“Isn’t it perfect?”
Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.
A smirk curls onto his lips
“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?” 
Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides. 
His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?
“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”
​​​​​RING
RING
Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form  against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.
When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones. 
It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.
Why did suddenly felt wrong?
...
... It felt wrong...
So, so wrong.
Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?  
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buddiebeginz · 2 days
Text
Guys don’t let spoilers for new eps rattle you. We’re closer to Buddie now than we have ever been. Just have to let the story play out.
Remember these things:
They’re not really pushing B/T in the press they’re doing for the show. Like sure they’ve talked about them but go read all the articles and watch the interviews T*mmy is being talked about more as a mentor figure for Buck and not a long term love interest.
The show has very deliberately connected Buck’s bi awakening including B/T to Eddie and compared T*mmy to Eddie.
They’ve literally with dialogue pointed out Buck wanted Eddie’s attention twice (once when Buck was talking to Maddie after the game and once when T*mmy says “my attention” a clear indication he knew Buck wanted Eddie’s attention).
They’ve full on paralleled B/T scenes and Buddie scenes (call Eddie/call T*mmy)
Buck was talking about how great Eddie is moments before T*mmy kissed him.
Eddie was the character they chose to have crash Buck’s first date with a guy. They chose to have it be where Eddie announces that Marisol is moving in and after the date was over and ended badly the main thing Buck focused on wasn’t T*mmy it was the fact he lied to Eddie.
They’ve made it a point to say in interviews that Buck isn’t going to be having any more one on one coming out scenes this season. Yet they had both of Buck’s important coming out scenes involve Eddie. Buck ends up coming out to Maddie because he’s talking about the date and how he’s upset he lied to Eddie. They also had some very deliberate dialogue when Maddie said “I just think maybe you’re not sure of your own feelings yet. And if there’s something you need to tell Eddie you will. In your own time.”
They devoted a whole intense scene to Buck coming out to Eddie including with a hug.
They keep promoting Buddie in interviews and the press and almost all of the promo videos and pics this season have included them. They’ve also had Ryan and Oliver front and center during the press early on and both seem excited about Buddie’s storyline together this season.
They’ve even made Maddie and Chim’s wedding about Buddie to a large degree. All the promos for it are 98% Buddie. They’re also wearing a couples costume, partying with drag queens, and being more physically close than we’ve ever seen them be. Remember this is also happening at an event we saw Buck invite T*mmy to and we know Eddie has a gf who should presumably be his +1.
Marisol has barely been in this season. We don’t really know her as a person or even her last name. We don’t even know how a relationship between her and Eddie functions because we’ve barely seen them together. The one ep Marisol was heavily featured in the show treated her more like a punchline than a fully fleshed out character and certainly not like a long term love interest to a main character.
They’ve already had Eddie talking about how he’s a nester this season. But they also had a very emotional scene where Chris talks about Shannon and how everyone leaves. Eddie having Marisol move in with him so quick (even if she did move back out) just proves he’s repeating old patterns. He’s looking to replace Shannon in his life and for Chris. Instead of looking at what he has and what he wants.
Also remember that Ryan was included with all the other cast members who play queer characters on that episode of Family Feud that’s likely to air during pride month.
I know a lot of people are nervous about what the show is going to do with Buddie but remember there is more incentive for them to make Buddie canon now than ever before. They’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback especially in the press from Buck’s bi storyline. Tim and Ryan and Oliver and the rest know how much people want to see Buddie happen and how much attention they will garner the show when it does. They’re in the perfect position to finally move these characters in that direction and I think they are slowly and steadily. We just have to be patient. We’re likely to have parts of the story suck as we get closer to Buddie but it will be worth it in the end.
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envy-of-the-apple · 2 days
Text
Total Care
Dark!Illumi Zoldyck x reader
18+ content
This was a request....that i accidentally deleted...sorry anon!
(Dark Content, Dubious consent, forced masturbation, voyeurism, implied kidnapping)
One of the more aggravating things about Illumi's personality is his attentiveness.
You eat three times a day. You sleep for exactly 9 hours. You get sunlight, time to move around. Physically, you're well-taken care of, curtesy of your diligent captor.
Even pleasure was moderated by him.
"Well?" You cringe at his voice. You still refused to look at Illumi. Looking would make it even worse.
You fought the first time he crawled into bed with you. The second, third, and fourth time too. Your orgasms were always inevitable.
Sex is very important for your health, he'd often say after the 'session'. Like he was being altruistic about fucking you. Like you were the crazy one for resisting when he pinned you down with superhuman strength, making you cum on his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
You don't fight as much these days, but you still make excuses, 'Illumi, not tonight', 'Illumi I'm tired', 'Illumi please-'
To your surprise, he relented at that.
He pulls back, staring at you with eyes that died lifetimes ago. Or maybe they were never alive in the first place.
"You aren't satisfied with the sex," he says, always blunt, always straight to the point.
You don't answer. Saying anything he wanted you to say would be a lie so you keep your mouth shut and pray that this won't accelerate to something violent.
Still, nothing could compare you to what he says next.
"Fine. You do it, then."
That phrase brought you to your current predicament: With you on the rumpled bed far too big for just two. With Illumi sitting on a chair, legs elegantly crossed.
He's so pretty. Even in his worst moments, despite your fear, you could never convince yourself otherwise. Tall. Shiny hair, long and black. A slender shape that's surprisingly well-built. An angular jaw.
He reminds you of a carnivorous plant. They use their sweet nectar to distract flies from their voracious appetite. It makes you wonder if Illumi is using the same trick on you.
You still have your clothes on, but you feel just as naked underneath his gaze as you cower on the bed. His eyes are stripping, bleach that burns your skin. You shift the blankets closer, but you don't cover your body. Illumi hates it when you hide from him.
You know what he wants you to do. You just can't bring yourself to. Hands hover over your shirt, twitching and waiting.
Illumi, as always, picks up on your hesitance.
"Or, I'd be glad to-"
"No." You reel yourself in, sucking in a dry breath, "I'll-I'll do it."
Because anything is better than him touching you. Raking sharp nails over your soft skin. His teeth.
Anything is better. Even this, you try to convince yourself.
When your fingers hesitantly trail toward your covered cunt, he clicks his tongue.
"Take it off," Illumi demands, "I need to see that you're doing it right."
You shudder at his words, but you comply because anything is better.
You should be used to being naked around him. You don't think you ever will. Even if one day, when your mind is obedient to him, your nerves will never forget.
It's not cold, but you still shiver when you hike up your nightgown, right up to your stomach. He's clearly displeased that you don't take it off, but he doesn't say anything about it. Your panties come next. You roll them off your legs, bunching them right by the blankets.
"Spread your legs." Illumi's voice is back to that monotone lilt. You do as he says, widening the gap a little. When he gives a disapproving scoff, you spread them a little more, fully showing your bare cunt.
It's already humiliating, with you half-naked and him fully clothed, but his sheer nonchalance made it even worse. He looked the same, eyeing your body with a blank stare. It was far worse than a punishment.
He gives a wordless nod. You swallow, and then you can't maintain the eye-contact anymore. It's better to pretend that it's just you. It's better to just look down, ignore his stare.
You're already wet. Your body has gotten used to his touches. Your clit is already sensitive. You jolt when you touch it.
It's something familiar. You've done this before. Months ago, before you woke up in this cold mansion, a large empty room. When you were at home (your real home), with a toy that sank into you just right. Illumi didn't provide such luxuries.
You force yourself to drift off, squeezing your eyes tight, thinking about anything else. A hot celebrity, your ex, or just no one at all. You rub your clit faster as your body responds. Your hips twitch, your walls squeeze around nothing.
But he's watching. And it's too much—it's too much—
You stop, breaking down into humiliated sobs. It's enough to make him draw closer. In an instant, he's right there, enveloping you underneath him.
"Don't you see?" He coos, enveloping you within his arms. "You couldn't do it, by yourself, could you?"
He doesn't even give you the luxury to disagree. You find yourself nestled within his grip. His cold fingers replace your own. A long finger sinks into your clenching pussy. A thumb rubs circles on your swollen clit.
You come like that, hiding in his arms, no longer having to see your own debauchery. He gives a soft kiss on your hairline, kind enough to let you ride his fingers.
"You need me, my love," he says. He almost sounds kind.
His smile digs into the top of your head.
"You need me for everything."
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Dir en grey interview translation notes around The Devil In Me
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Just some of the more interesting bits from the single's booklet and from PHY vol. 25.
Kyo
He was the one who came up with the title, and the title was determined before they even attached a song to it. The band basically decided to set a date for a new single ahead of time, not too long after 19990120's release, then they had just one song selection meeting (usually, they have three) to pick a song to work with toward becoming "The Devil In Me". After scheduling a release date, they had to pick a title before even knowing what song would be part of that release for production/logistical reasons.
Kyo wrote the lyrics of The Devil In Me based on his sense of dissociation from world events, how his own issues are not aligned with what the world cares about. He finds that people's lives are sometimes pre-determined the moment they are born. It's really a reflection on: "Why am I the way I am?"
The chorus has so many layers because Kyo wanted to illustrate that inner evil, or wickedness.
While re-recording Yokan, Kyo realized that he used to sing in short bouts, taking a breath more regularly, whereas he's evolved to sing as much as he can in a single, long breath now.
The small changes made to the lyrics of Cage just serve to help Kyo feel more immersed in that old poem, but if he'd wanted to change the lyrics to represent his current mindset, clearly he would have composed a completely new, different song.
Kyo commented in PHY vol. 25 that if the producers wanted a band that sells a lot, they would have had to replace him with someone who is taller, has a nice face and that composes songs that appeal to a wider audience. But around their debut, Kyo had to bend to some of the producers' demands because he had to rely on their knowledge of what would make the band successful. He wanted to make a very dark band, but he had to accept to make songs like Yokan.
"It wouldn't be appropriate to sing about corpses and internal organs to a melodious song such as Yokan (lol)."
Kyo feels like Dir en grey is the toughest band for him to be a part of, because the band's shows are especially mentally difficult.
Kaoru
The music of The Devil In Me was Kaoru's idea.
Kaoru agrees that the song kind of ends in a way that the band could have, in the past, followed up on with a second section of the song, but they felt like ending it in a more simple way now, which still represents the band's current state.
Die
The band had a discussion in a dressing room during Tour23 Phalaris Final –The scent of a peaceful death- and that's where they came to an understanding of where they wanted to take the band next. Kyo brought them ideas on what he felt that the next single song should sound like, but in the end, at the selection meeting, the majority of the band chose a completely different song than the other of the 5 that Kyo preferred. He's fine with letting the majority win.
Die started working out in 2018 to make sure to stay in shape for stage performances, and I think that he mentioned that it's important for him to appear young and healthy so that the fans who follow the band also don't feel old.
For Die, he was in part less active on stage during the Dum Spiro Spero era because the songs were dark and complex, so he had to focus more. Because of that, he couldn't enjoy the actual shows as much.
Toshiya
Toshiya mentioned that doing commemorative tours and shows is really just fan service.
Toshiya described Dir en grey as a group of five dictators. Their enemies and friends/allies are all inside that group, and the past 25(+) years have been a continuation of challenges to bring the band forward despite this type of chemical reaction between five egos.
Apparently the band never has casual "weird" conversations where they chat about their interests of the moment, but they quietly observe the others without interacting, like by observing what kind of clothes they wear or are into.
Shinya
Contrary to the band's habit, the vocals did not even exist yet when Shinya had to compose and record his drumming for The Devil In Me. When the vocals were eventually recorded, they kind of matched what Shinya had expected.
However, overall, a couple of members of the band feel like The Devil In Me might be a song that people react to with: "I don't get it", rather that just liking or disliking it.
Shinya dissing The Marrow of a Bone again hahah.
Shinya described The Devil In Me as mysterious, inexplicable.
He started taking some lessons from Buck-Tick's "Anii" (Toll Yagami) to learn a new drumming method. In the past, at the very beginning of his career, Shinya used to wear lead weights at his ankles to hit the pedal heavier and develop muscles, but Yoshiki and other seniors told him how to actually play and he quickly got rid of the weight belts.
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cannellee · 3 days
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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
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୨୧ alpha! tokyo revengers x omega! reader (pairing : kazutora, ryusei, mitsuya, kakucho)
— their reactions to their omega feeling safe and happy with them (part 1)
my masterlist : ☆
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ALPHA! KAZUTORA
kazutora can't get enough of your cute chirping sounds whenever you're cuddling together. it's like being with him is the best moment of your day and it makes him feel all proud and happy.
he lets you snuggle closer, smiling softly when he hears you letting out quiet satisfied sighs against his chest. he loves it when you let yourself be this vulnerable around him, he knows it takes a lot of trust and kazutora does feel like he doesn't deserve it sometimes.
but you're just so cute that he can't help but get greedy. and it's in those moments of pure devotion that he feels a sense of belonging like he's never experienced before. it's like you were made to fit against him and he wants to cherishevery moments like this.
                                    · · ୨୧ · ·
ALPHA! RYUSEI
you were hanging around in the park next to your house when you unexpectedly got caught in a gang meeting, thugs surrounding you in no time.
luckily those were the toman members and your worry appeased a little bit. still, as you looked for a way out between the crowd of people, you couldn't help but feel scared and intimidated.
ryusei noticed you among his men, not believing his eyes at first. he watched as you cowered in fear, eyes scanning around you. he quickly came up to you, his chest filling up with a great warmth upon seeing how much more relaxed you visibly grew.
"ryusei!" you exclaimed happily, hands finding his immediately. he didn't even got the chance to scold you for going out late at night as your bright face was the prettiest he had ever seen you have. you looked at him like he was your whole world and ryusei was taken aback, feeling so lucky for your blind trust in him.
"let's get you home, okay?"
                                    · · ୨୧ · ·
ALPHA! MITSUYA
you were resting in the couch, covered from head to toes in warm blankets mitsuya had put over you before he went over to the kitchen.
you were feeling sick and he had forced you down the moement he came home, assuring you he'd take care of you.
you didn't know if it was your sickened state or your immense love for him that made you more emotional than usual, but you suddenly felt a surge of love and gratitude for mitsuya.
when he came back with two plates of your favourite meal you felt like crying from joy. you thanked mitsuya with a merry scent enveloping the both of you and chirped cutely upon hearing him calling you his adorable omega.
it felt like a reward to mitsuya and he was more than ready to make all the efforts and sacrifices to keep seeing you smile at him and asks for him the way you did today. your vulnerability sparked his protective instincts and he scented you in return, out of happiness.
                                    · · ୨୧ · ·
ALPHA! KAKUCHO
when you texted kakucho that you had troubles sleeping, you didn't expect him to show up in the middle of the night at your doorstep.
you giggled as you let him in, inviting him inside your nest. you cuddled closer to him, his scent soothing you almost instantly and putting your worries away.
none of you talked much, kakucho simply caressing your cheek softly and combing your hair through his fingers. when he noticed you drifting off to sleep in just a few minutes, a relaxed smile on your face and a calm scent surrounding you, kakucho felt his heart melt.
he didn't think his presence would help you this much and feel this securing to you. but it seemed like kakucho had become a very reassuring figure in your life and he couldn't be more grateful to feel like such an important person to his favourite omega.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 days
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I heard ✨fluffy Vox thoughts✨ and I’m here to deliver
Okay so we all know cuddling Vox is difficult sometimes with his big ass head. Difficult but not impossible because this man loves to hold you.
Makes him feel manly (even tho we’ve established he’s a needy bitch boy but let the man have his moment) that he’s the one holding and protecting you from whatever reason has you clinging to him
So whenever he gets the chance, especially when he sees you’ve been having harder time lately, he gets this kind a smug look on his face as he and opens his arms for you, because yay now he gets to hold you and make you feel like the small vulnerable one for once
(Doms deserve to be babied too!!)
He does baby talk you, mostly to tease because he’s stroking his ego a bit because he’s feeling like the caretaker/provider/whatever
Up to you either you make him swallow his words later 👀
~~~~~~~~~
Vox was working mindlessly in his monitor room, honestly growing bored and irritated with the days work load that seemed never endingly tedious. However, his concentration is broken when he hears the elevator dinging open behind him, to which he sighs in annoyance.
“I’m busy, so whoever it is, go away.” Vox was quick to dismiss without even looking over his shoulder.
At that you immediately roll your eyes. Dealing with your boyfriend’s bs after the week you’ve been having is not what you came down here for.
“Vox.” You say, your tone low with a warning that he already knew. Watch your attitude.
He tenses for a second, after realizing it was you and he turns to look over his shoulder. He plasters on that tv host grin of his as he turns his chair to you fully, deciding to use you as an excuse to take a break for his mind numbing work for five minutes.
“Oh my apologies my dear, I didn’t realize it was you. Heh you know how things are. Busy busy busy.” He feigns for an excuse.
You simply rolls your eyes as you approach him, your exhaustion and stress showing on your face, “Yeah tell me about it.”
He arches a brow at you. Weird. He was have expecting you to tell him to fix his attitude or you’d fix it for him, or something if that nature. But your whole energy was off. And the closer you got to him, the more he noticed the crease in your brow and the tires look in your eyes. Aw shit…he knew that look.
He sighs wearily and that tv persona drops for a moment, as he sits himself up in his chair and gestures for you to sit in his lap.
“C’mon. You can hide out in here.” He says as if he was doing you a favor but in reality he just knew better. You got the same way he did when you needed a recharge from a hellish week. Cuddly.
A small smile pulls on your lips and you don’t hesitate to get in his lap, tucking your head under his screen and resting agaisnt his body.
Vox looks down at you for a moment as he runs his chair back to his monitors and as his eyes linger in your face for a moment, watching you melt into him, he couldn’t help but smile a little more genuinely. (And he definitely took a screenshot)
“Hmp..just don’t move around okay? I still have to work.” He chuffs out, only to have you smirk a little agaisnt his chest.
“Mm last I checked you were the squirmy one between the two of us Vox. Or so I need to remind you later.”
You could hear his fans kick on a little harder as he grumbles under his breath, “…fuck you.”
“Later.” You chuckled, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m resting.”
awwwwwwsshshsh this is really cute!! 😭🫶 you spoil me oh my god the little drabble at the end was adorable. This was very in character too because it would definitely be a manliness thing, lowkey. But the baby talk is actually cute, I don’t even care. Like that’s so silly and he so would, like I cannot get over that idea it’s so cute. You’re a very good writer by the way, you should consider making fics. Anyways, thanks babes this absolutely cheered me up oh my god!
Side note “(Doms deserve to be babied too!!)” Very important information, no one forget this!! ☝️🤨
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transmascutena · 1 day
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one of my favorite things about the movie is that the very first thing utena does on screen is flirt with wakaba. it's funny, sure, but it also works to establish a few important things about the movie right away. most notably that wakaba and utena don't remember each other, and by extension that this is not a continuation of the show in a traditional sense (though it can of course be interpreted that way.) it also tells us a lot about how utena as a character is different, serving as a nice contrast to the way he's kind of unresponsive or uncomfortable with wakaba's constant physical affection in the show, which i always read as that classic closeted teenage lesbian experience of not knowing how to respond to affection from other girls, because it seems to mean something different to you than to everybody else. something bigger and more important. you can't say you're in love with them as a joke like wakaba (seemingly) does, because you know it wouldn't be a joke to you. and this moment goes to show that utena is generally a lot more comfortable in her identity in the movie. a little older, a little more aware. obviously there's still stuff she needs to work through, but her hesitancy to be intimate with anthy is also something that has less to do with her being a girl, and more to do with the whole rose bride thing and the consent issues around that.
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nana-b0b · 3 days
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》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!
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A little historical info to better understand:
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♡♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.
Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!
Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.
And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.
I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.
My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)
To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐
Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D
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jmliebert · 2 days
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♡ Aemond as your boyfriend ♡
(modern) headcanons
meetings in the middle of the night, piercing glances and desperate kisses, Aemond is a little bit obsessed about you
when he's with you, the hard lines blur, revealing a softness that he's kept hidden from the world
when he kisses your palms, he does it slowly, with such devotion. one finger at a time, his eyes never leaving yours
and when you’re not close he needs to know where you are, who you're with, and what you've been doing. he acts like it’s just concern, but there's a possessive edge in his questions
when you're around other people, especially if they're attractive, he becomes extra possessive. he won't outright tell you he's jealous (duh), but you'll notice how he puts his arm around you or touches your shoulder, keeping you close. and that little smirk of his appearing
he holds your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your skin
Aemond doesn't usually like sleeping with someone glued to him, but with you, he makes an exception. over time, he even grows to enjoy it, finding comfort in your warmth
he spoils you, he'll run hot baths for you, and when your shoulders are sore, he'll give you massages (that often lead to something more…just sayin) and let me tell you he’s surprisingly good at it, using his hands to work out every knot while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he makes you feel important, he makes you feel wanted
when you're asleep, he can't help but touch you. he caresses your cheeks, runs his fingers through your hair, or traces the outline of your hips, silently watching and swallowing you whole with his eye
going back to spoiling you…he might leave a piece of tasteful, expensive jewellery by your bedside, or bring you bouquet of red roses out of the blue
though he may appear distant at times, he's actually attuned to every word you say. he absorbs your conversations, and if you express even the slightest interest in something, you can be sure he'll get it for you
even though he’s serious with others (and often very stiff), he loosens up with you. he might put on a sheet mask when you're watching a movie, just because you asked him to, and he’ll do it without complaint
and about movies, he'll watch every horror movie with you, never flinching at the jump scares or gory scenes. but he's secretly thrilled when you curl up into his arms, hiding your face against his chest, squeezing him tightly. He'll calmly whisper when the scary moment has passed, gently coaxing you to look at the screen again, reassuring you that it's safe to watch now
also I think that he’s the type to show up at your window at 3 AM dressed in black, just because he missed you and your heart races at the sight of him smiling at your surprised expression
he takes you in his arms and kisses you like he's been starving for it, his hands tightening around your waist as if he'd never let go. and every time you gasp in his lips, he loses his mind a little
about intimacy…Aemond is not shy, he likes it rough, raw, and intense. he grips your neck with just the right amount of force, whispering filthy words into your ear that send shivers down your spine. his touch is possessive, he's fascinated by your body—obsessed, really
his mouth finds every inch of you, trailing a line of wet kisses down your lovely skin. he adores the way you squirm beneath him. when he thrusts into you, it's with a force that leaves you breathless, and he bites your nipples with a primal hunger
his hands explore with a kind of need that leaves bruises, but you crave that pain. he is unrelenting, his fingers digging into your hips, your thighs, anywhere he can find purchase
yet!! for all his intensity, he is mindful of your pleasure. he ensures you come first, savoring every ripple of your climax, holding you tightly as you shudder against him
he releases his hot ropes of cum deep inside you (if you’re up to it), and even then, he doesn’t let up. his hips continue to move deliciously, slow and deliberate, milking every last drop of his orgasm. wanting to stay inside you for as long as he can, it feels so good inside you
Aemond’s gaze stays fixed on yours, his breathing ragged and uneven
and after, he treats you with the gentleness of a lover who understands the aftermath of such raw sex. he cleans you up, wiping away the sweat and sticky remnants, kisses your forehead, murmuring how beautiful you are, how good you are for him, but even in those quiet moments, you can feel the intensity of his desire, a fire that never truly goes out. he’s restless when it comes to you
in moments like these, when Aemond is close to your naked body, his hands tracing the contours of your soft skin, he becomes vulnerable, as if the touch of your flesh unlocks something deep within him
you see he often struggles with his emotions and how to put them into words, hence his presents and little gestures, but in moments like this when the world is reduced to just the two of you, he breaks open a little, revealing the depths of his feelings
love is not a word he uses lightly. so when he whispers it to you for the first time in the quiet of the night, when the only sound is your shared breathing and the rustling of sheets
your heart skips a beat. it's not just a word—it's a confession, a declaration of something timeless. the weight of it is enough to crush you, and when he says it, you know he really means it
as he speaks, you can feel the hesitation in his voice, the rawness of his emotions. it's hard to open up to someone like this, despite he tells you that he would do anything for you, that he's at your service
it's funny because at first, you'd think he had you wrapped around his finger, completely under his control. but as time went on, you realised it was the opposite—he was the one utterly at your mercy
these intimate confessions, shared in the darkness, become a sacred bond between you. it's not just about physical closeness; it's about laying bare the heart, exposing the vulnerability that he hides so well from the world
after Aemond's confession, you feel a profound shift in the atmosphere, a change in his touch. it's as if, for the first time, he don't want to just fuck you, he wants to make love to you, you in his arms
you melt into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels almost reverent
the urgency and roughness that usually accompany your moments of passion are replaced with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Aemond's hands explore your body with a gentleness that surprises you, tracing delicate patterns on your skin. his lips move across your shoulders, your collarbone, and then up to your lips, kissing you with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. it's a kiss that tells you that you are cherished, that you are loved
his movements are unhurried. he holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he moves within you, his gaze never leaving yours
the way he holds you, the way he touches you—it's all so gentle, so intimate, and it feels like he's pouring his soul into every gesture
when it's over, Aemond holds you even closer, his breath warm against your skin
the rest of the world fades away, and it's just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet comfort of the night
@venmondiese ! ! !
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
you can find more of my works about aemond ♡here♡
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erros429 · 2 days
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why are you calling farcille sapphic representation when they aren’t even canon
had a very lengthy internal debate with myself on whether i wanted to answer this with an essay or say something short like “because i’m sapphic and they represent me.” but you guys can have the essay too.
i’d like to preface this by saying that i understand where you’re coming from. explicit lgbt+ representation is so deeply important and queer characters in media needs to be normalized instead of tokenized so that queer viewers can feel like there is a world that accepts them and that they can belong in.
HOWEVER. this does not also mean that queercoding and subtext should be devalued, especially given how ingrained it is in queer culture and media. historically, when it was a lot more dangerous to show a character as queer without villainizing them in some way, subtext was all a queer viewer could have. but it’s because of those small hints (see: the legend of korra) that we could have popular media that unabashedly shows queer love. however, even that representation has been stifled, either by only allowing the queer love to be shown in the end (see: adventure time, she-ra, and voltron) or by straight up canceling the show itself (see: the owl house, warrior nun, i am not okay with this, sense8, and first kill).
now let’s get into the actual discussion of farcille. more often than not, shipping arises more from seeing the buildup of a couple rather than when they actually get into a relationship. and this goes for any ship, not just queer ones. but you’re not questioning me on shipping farcille, you’re questioning that i called them sapphic representation without them actually being canon (and therefore they can’t be considered representation).
however, i wholeheartedly think that farcille cannot be read as anything other than romantic, and i genuinely believe that (MANGA SPOILERS) they’d pursue a relationship post-canon, now that falin is un-chimera’d and marcille has a less anxious attachment style to the people she loves. dungeon meshi doesn’t focus on romance whatsoever, and there honestly wouldn’t be any time to show romance anyway because neither character was in a position to be ready for one, so the only appropriate moment would be post-canon.
and that’s where the importance of subtext comes in. ryoko kui’s storytelling relies heavily on her audience’s media literacy skills. though laios is never explicitly stated as autistic, his character is written in such an exquisite way, that any viewer could easily guess what she was trying to represent there. i would 100% consider him to be autistic representation, even without him saying it in-text. now why shouldn’t i be allowed to extend that same logic to farcille being sapphic representation? all the tell-tale queercoding signs are there, just like all the tell-tale autistic-coding is present in laios. i don’t need the two girls to kiss to be aware of how utterly devoted and in love they are with each other.
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hachyxd-blog · 3 days
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Ray´s B-day fanfic <3
"Today, years ago, my favorite yandere was born from all the visual novels I've had the fortune to see or play. I can separate fiction from reality, but I don't think I'm the only one who would like to be there to hug Ray and give him a little peace. As a small gift, I wanted to make a short fanfic of my coffee addict alongside a little drawing to complement it. I apologize in advance if it's not understood well, English is not my language and I'm using a translator."
@concreteparasite Gracias por crear tal maravilla.
Happy birthday.
Who would have thought it would be possible to keep a secret from the great Binary star. Mc laughed happily in the kitchen as she finished washing the dishes. It had been just over a year since she moved into Ray's home. At first, it wasn't easy; it seemed like the option to leave was given, or rather, it was never up for discussion. After much talking, they managed to make it work together: Mc wouldn't be confined to her new home, but she would always stay in touch with Ray when she went out.
Truth be told, it's not like she could keep a secret from him; after all, he possessed the incredible ability to read minds, but she trusted him not to read hers all the time. Mc really believed it was impossible to turn on her mind... until she discovered it. On her maternal side, she spoke Spanish, and unconsciously she had been thinking in that language, discovering a weakness to Ray's ability. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't fully understand, but there was nothing he could do.
Today, in particular, he seemed very upset. I concentrated as best I could so that the only language I thought in was Spanish and not to ruin the surprise.
"Tell me what you're thinking..." Ray's voice appeared behind me, his hands wrapped around my hips as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was cute.
"I'm not thinking anything important," I said playfully.
"Stop," he said seriously.
"What?"
"You've been thinking in Spanish all day," His voice sounded annoyed, while I tried to contain my laughter.
"Really? I didn't realize."
"It's annoying."
"Well, darling. It's not the end of the world if you don't know everything that's going on in my mind."
Without responding, Ray left me alone in the kitchen and headed to our room, then came out in his superhero suit. Before me was Binary Star in all his glory, the only difference being that he didn't show that fake smile but still looked upset.
Unknowingly, due to my practice, I had been thinking in Spanish again.
Normally, he would give me a kiss goodbye and go to his vigil shift. But today, he flew off the balcony without looking at me. I won't deny that it hurt me. But it meant I was on the right track to keep the surprise.
Ray came back around 5 in the morning. Half-asleep, I felt him walking around the room before lying down on the other side of our bed. It seems he's still upset because he didn't hug me as he always does.
The next morning, I let him sleep, it helped that we slept separately, so I got out of bed easily. After putting on my robe, I went downstairs and asked the neighbor for my package. I had gotten a chocolate cake with coffee to celebrate Ray's birthday. But if I kept it in our house, he would realize I was planning in Spanish. The neighbor agreed to keep the cake at his house along with my gift.
I went back home, made coffee, and took the cake out of its box, and my gift was already on the tray.
In our room, Ray was still asleep. I cleared my throat and started singing "Happy Birthday."
Ray looked for a moment and then covered his face with his pillow. I could see that lovely smile; he was embarrassed.
I left things on the bedside table and threw myself to hug and kiss Ray; I knew I should have let him sleep more, but I couldn't contain myself after all these days preparing the surprise.
In no time, I was caught in his arms.
"Everything... was for this," His voice sounded deeper from just waking up, but he seemed happy.
"Yes, did you forget your own birthday?" I joked, stroking his soft hair, and running my hand over his cheek. "Ignoring them doesn't mean you stop aging, old man."
"No, I just don't usually celebrate it." He ignored my joke and just passed his hand over his face, somewhat frustrated.
"Well, get used to it. This might be the only birthday I manage to keep a surprise. Next year, you'll know what to expect." I exclaimed proudly.
Ray smiled, keeping his eyes closed; maybe it was the fact that he now had someone to be with him for the following birthdays that made him take this even more joyfully.
"If you don't want cake now, we can save it for later." I gave a glance to the table with his cake and gift, along with his essential morning coffee.
"How about the gift?" He pointed to the purple box. "Can I have it now?"
It was at this moment that nerves increased from zero to a hundred. Everything would be decided at this moment.
"Of course," I handed over the gift, watching as he slowly unwrapped it.
Ray's eyes widened as he looked at the contents of the box and then at me, pulling out two handmade dolls of them and a pregnancy test. After a moment of silence, Mc cleared her throat.
"D-don't think I'll give you a gift like this every year." I laughed nervously.
"Since when—" maybe it was shock, but his voice sounded distant, as if he didn't completely believe what was happening.
"I-it's still early, I haven't been to the doctor yet." Ray looked at me as if I had committed a crime. "I-it would have ruined the surprise."
Ray went from surprise to anger to simply accepting the inevitable: the love of his life was forgetful.
"I swear I feel fine. But you're happy, I mean, we talked about this in the past, but maybe you were thinking of another time in the future... I..."
Ray's hands took me by my cheeks, cradling my face, to give me a tender kiss.
"I am, I mean, I'm so happy that I'd like to hold you so tight in my arms and show you how excited I am about this." He gave me a subdued smile.
"Ray, what's wrong?"
"What if I don't do it right, being a good father?"
"Well, no father is prepared for this. We'll learn together..."
I could see Ray's face relax at my touch and my words. His hands surrounded my back, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Happy birthday..."
"Thank you..." His whisper was weak, but I felt genuine gratitude.
"Next year, we won't be alone on your next birthday, Mr. Dad."
We stayed hugged for a while. I didn't know what was going through Ray's mind, but whatever it was, I would be with him.
When I set out to eat the cake, I was interrupted by Ray, who carried me to the shower to get ready to go to the hospital. It was funny how from one moment to the next, our small bathroom became a dangerous area in Ray's eyes: slippery floor, sharp-cornered furniture, and a bathtub where I could drown, among many other dangerous things. He took out his phone and started calling to have our entire home redesigned to make it safe for me and our upcoming baby. And may God have mercy on the people in charge if I ever got hurt, no matter how insignificant it was.
If this was going to be my life from now on, it would be a long nine months.
"Your father has gone crazy," I said as I stroked my still flat belly. "But that's how I love him."
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˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 6 - Haunt You, Taunt You ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖
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If your theater was your business, then your club, The Temple, was your pleasure.
You won the building in a gamble with the previous owner and had been lovingly pouring time, money, and elbow grease into it for decades. Unlike the speakeasy you ran while alive, you didn’t have to split your time between laundering money and smuggling liquor (Hell had no taxes or laws prohibiting… well anything). It allowed you to redesign the club a couple of years or so, reshaping the three-story building into a blend of the old and new. It was uniquely yours.
The many, many guests you had the honor of hosting were a mixture of demons young and old, sinners and hell-born, rich and broke. You prided yourself for having a club tamer than most establishments in Hell. Sure there was plenty of sex and drugs going on within the walls, you weren’t a wet blanket after all, but it was important your club felt like a safe place for all demons. Jet, your head of security, had his team spread throughout the club to keep an eye out for troublemakers.
The atmosphere was enhanced by the wide variety of music the club played; a blend of big band, ragtime, bebop, and the new trend they called electro-swing. Live or canned, so long as you could dance to it, it was welcomed.
You loved to dance. Once you stepped foot on American soil your feet never stopped moving. You loved the freedom in every wild, improvised move. You loved the adrenaline of a natural high. You loved the control. Control over one’s body to make it all look effortless was a skill you often practiced.
Most of all, you loved the fun it brought to every participant regardless of skill. Much like in the bedroom, the dance floor was a place where everyone was equal.
You showed the club off to your guests, pride swelling in your chest as they appreciated your baby. You took in Alastor’s face, careful not to let him catch you staring at him. His opinion mattered the most.
You set them up in a large, rounded corner booth and a responsible amount (as per Charlie’s request) of free drink vouchers.
Dragging Angel to the dance floor, you led the taller demon in a dance. He spun you around with a laugh before passing you off to an eager Charlie.
After a round of drinks they all went off in different directions: Angel and Husk to the bar. Charlie found some stray sinner to infodump about the hotel to. She chatted them up at a million words a minute with only Vaggie to keep her coherent. Niffty inquired where the cleaning supplies were and you told her to go nuts without a second thought.
Then you were all alone with dear old Alastor. The reds of his being hardly overshadowed by the club lights. He sat dead center of the curved booth with you not too close to him or the edge. You didn’t want to look like you’d flee at any moment.
You downed your second whiskey sour with a shudder. Elbow on the table and warm cheek in your hand, you beamed up at him. “Soooo Alastor, what do you think? And please be honest, I know you don’t care if you hurt my little feelings.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it dear,” he said through his pointed teeth. You struggled not to roll your eyes. “I’ll happily admit the atmosphere and music is not terrible.”
You snorted, very ladylike and refined. “I’ll have to put your glowing review on my door. ‘Not terrible’ says the Radio Demon! That’ll bring in the customers.”
“Please go right ahead and use my endorsement free of charge.”
“Gladly.” You traced the rim of your empty glass with a finger. “You ever hear how I got this place?”
“Ah yes, I remember you won it in a gamble, correct?”
“But you want to know what game we played?”
Alastor raised an eyebrow in interest and nodded. You simulated shooting yourself in the temple with your fingers. “Angelic steel bullets.”
His look of genuine surprise was not missed by you. You laughed the way you always did when you told the story.
“I’m always amazed by the desperate lengths others will go for any scrap of power,” Alastor said. “Though, not surprised.”
“Easy for you to say, Magic Man.” You sipped your drink, hiding your smile as his soured in slight annoyance. “The rest of us don’t have it so easy and have to take desperate risks.”
Alastor made a sound akin to rolling one’s eyes, sparks of radio static accompanying the noise. “Well, doll, I’m certainly glad you’re under the illusion my rise of power was effortless.”
Another laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
The tale of how Alastor the Radio Demon grew to power was well known even these days, but the finer details of his rise were shrouded in secrecy. He no doubt relished in how the uncertainty stoked fear in the hearts of sinners. However he did it, he accomplished it all single-handedly, smile never faltering. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t in awe of him.
You’d never come right out and tell him. You stroked his ego enough for tonight.
Alastor sipped his whiskey, preferring to swish it around than to drink it, as he only ordered it upon your assistance. “Tell me, Temerity. Why have you settled in the role of a mere manager?”
Frown forming, you looked at Alastor with displeasure. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean no disrespect, my dear. I’m simply expressing that with your capabilities— and I don’t say this lightly— you could easily make your way to become quite an Overlord. I can’t help but look at you and see… wasted potential.”
Should you feel insulted or flattered? The unnatural tilt of his head in confusion told you he meant it as a compliment. While beyond flattered in his casual belief in you, his dismissal of your job offended you.
“I didn’t settle for this. I chose this. I don’t want the responsibilities of a sovereign overlord with all the meetings and targets on my back.”
”Very well, but I must say it’s rather foolish to be in the position you are and not work to gain more power.”
“I find people who pursue power for power’s sake are never satisfied. The position I’m in lets me do whatever I want. I’m truly free. How many people down here can truly say the same thing?”
Alastor’s smile thin-lipped and his eyes shifted eyes from yours for a split second. You thought maybe you said something wrong or offensive to him somehow. He sipped his drink. “I suppose that line of thinking is where you and I differ.”
You shrugged and polished off your poison. You had no issue with his beliefs, but living by them didn’t align with your afterlife goals.
The two of you lapsed into silence, music filling in the space where your words once hung. You appreciated how Alastor never felt the need to fill every moment with noise. So many people stuffed every second with noise as if a moment of quiet would result in some kind of social disaster.
The song faded into the next, and this was one you loved; an upbeat, fast-paced number kicking off with a blast of saxophones. Either emboldened by the conversation or the alcohol clouding your judgment, you stood with a flourish and held your hand out to Alastor. An invitation.
“Dance with me.”
He met your question with an eyebrow raised in amusement. Crimson eyes flicked from your hand to your eyes, and you resisted the urge to look away or shrink under the heat of his eyes.
Finally, “And what of the cutlery strapped to your thigh?”
“I’ve been at this a looong time. Believe me, they’ll stay put.”
He decided to believe you. Relief swept over you like a steamroller. With a chuckle, he placed his hand in yours and it felt like victory.
Your grin spread as wide as one of Alastor’s as he dragged you to the dance floor. Alastor led you into a basic back-and-forth two-step. Eager to follow, you pranced along. He spun you in circles; dark dress fluttered around your legs.
Greed spiked in your gut. You wanted more. You pulled Alastor into a twist, effortlessly resetting the dance to your pace. Alastor adapted. Light on your feet, you two flicked your legs back and forth in tandem.
Your heart pounded in your chest. This was a dream. It had to be because there was no way in Hell Alastor was here dancing with you so well.
Alastor twirled you away before snapping you back to him, slammed flushed against his body. He locked eyes with you; smirk utterly patronizing, as if charmed by a child.
Your cheeks heated, jaw clenched in irritation. Before you could open your mouth, Alastor tugged at your waste. A warning. He swept you off your feet like you were weightless and flipped you in the air. A gasp retched from your lips. Feet back on the ground, you didn’t miss a step. The dance floor was ice under your feet.
No surprise, Alastor liked to play dirty. You hoped he didn’t mind a taste of his own medicine.
You distanced yourself from him, then tumbled forward into a practiced backflip. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders. He grabbed you by the thighs and tossed you over his head.
Instead of your feet finding solid ground, you slid. Alastor dipped you low, your back practically parallel to the floor. Instinctually, you grabbed onto his shoulders. Alastor grinned wickedly down at you, but this wasn’t like his previous look of condescension. Pupils blown wide, mouth splitting his face, he looked hungry.
There was a twist in your chest, your head, your core. Warmth washed your skin. Tension bubbled in your throat. You laughed, childish giggling wracked your body as Alastor righted you.
If people were looking at you, you didn’t notice. Alastor clouded all five of your senses. Your chest heaved as your laughter subsided and you wiped at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Somehow Alastor looked like he never broke a sweat. Unfair.
“What a marvelous performance, my dear,” Alastor said.
“Surprised?”
“Not at all.”
You swallowed thickly, the intensity of his gaze too heavy to bear any longer. A glance at the bar. “I’ll grab us some water.”
You skipped away before he could accept or decline. Wading through the sea of people, you made it to the bar, squeezing into a semi-vacant spot at the counter.
Catching sight of Husk and Angel Dust chatting at the end of the bar, you waved. Angel returned the gesture with a ruder one, Husk rolled his eyes.
You chuckled as the bartender, Collie, set two cocktails down in front of the well-dressed sinner on your left. He grabbed his drinks and turned to leave, and you saw it. One drink was an unmistakable shade of pink, almost unrecognizable under the club lights.
Your teeth ground against each other as you glared at the demon’s retreating form wading past patrons to the second story.
At least he made this a little easier for you.
“Collie, dear,” you said, pushing yourself off the counter. “Have Jet ready to handle some trouble. I'm going upstairs.”
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Alaster watched as you zeroed in on a sinner. You cut the tacky dresser off in the middle of the staircase, a saccharine smile foreign on you. Sweetness no doubt dripped from your voice as the demon leered at you, enticed by your words. He nodded and followed you upstairs, eyes glued to your swishing tail.
How peculiar.
He wouldn't put it past someone with your specific proclivities to get distracted by their libido, but something told him this wasn't your usual M.O. with a man.
Not with the way you eyed him with murderous intent.
Curiosity took over. Alastor dissipated his form, using the shadows to follow the two of you to the second floor past intoxicated patrons. You led the man to an empty room with a plush leather wrap-around couch with glass tables doused in blood-red lighting.
You welcomed him to inspect the room as you shut the door. “With this package you’d get drinks and food delivered to you and your guest, a TV with Voxflix, privacy. This room is perfect for more intimate gatherings.”
The sinner turned to you, appraising you like one of the decorations in the room. You slinked toward him, hand snaking up your thigh under your dress. For a moment Alastor wondered if he was wrong about his previous assessment.
Then, you were on him, knife drawn, slicing the sinner's hand clean through the wrist.
The demon howled in pain. Drinks dropped, glasses shattered on the floor, liquids mixing with the spilt blood.
The demon grabbed at his dismembered wrist. “You crazy fucking bitch!”
He lunged at you. Quick as a flash, you leapt out of the way. You sunk the blade into his shoulder and <i>twisted</i>. He dropped to his knees, grabbing at the knife with a hand no longer attached to his body.
You dug your heel into his back and wrenched the knife from his body. You wiped the bloodied blade off on his jacket before sliding back into the garter on your thigh.
“Hand it over,” you said, voice colder than Alastor ever heard it before. Chills ran up his spine, a sensation he rarely felt anymore.
“Fuck you fucking raccoon cunt!”
“Charming.” You rummaged through the inner pockets of his jacket while he sputtered profanities until you found what you were looking for. Alastor didn't recognize the heart-shaped vial of pink liquid, but it clearly filled you with disgust. “Fucking filth.”
With a sneer, you dropped the vial. Liquid spread like blood across the floor, pink miasma wafting harmlessly into the air.
A hand came to your nose and mouth as you turned away from the wounded man. From the shadows, Alastor had a front row seat to your full display of emotion.
You were distressed.
He took in your lovely expression of panic. Eyes wide and darting, as your thumb dug too hard into the fat of your cheek. You heaved a heavy, shaky sigh to calm yourself.
Much like your look of wrath, panic suited you quite nicely. Your shocked expression as he dipped you on the dance floor was swell, but nowhere near as impassioned and raw as this.
Unfortunately, there was no time to savor it. One of your brutish security guards entered the room and you slipped your mask back on. He regarded the bleeding man on the floor with disinterest. He lifted the wounded demon over one shoulder like a sack of garbage.
“Out back? Like usual?”
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Jet.”
He carted the trash away, and Alastor decided to make his presence known. He stepped out of the shadows with applause, savoring how you jumped. “Splendid show, Temerity dear! I didn't expect such a brutal display after your performance on the dance floor.”
“Alastor!” You brushed herself off, smearing blood across your dress; bright red streaks across the dark fabric. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
You weren't apologizing for the violence, of course. With his rap sheet of carnage that would be silly.
“Don't apologize on my behalf, doll.” He stepped closer, and when you didn't step away, he wiped a speck of blood off your cheek with a finger and licked it clean. He didn't expect the simple act to have panic blossom across your pretty little face again. He had to admit he liked it better this time, having been the one to cause it.
Before he could delve more into your responses, Niffty scrambled into the room, a tiny tornado. Trash bag in tow she grabbed the broken glass and the severed hand and tossed them into the bag.
“Tem, your club is filthy, filthy! I'll be back with bleach, hahah~”
As soon as the little bug entered, she left, trash dragging behind her like a body bag.
You used the interruption to slither out of Alastor's grasp to the door. “Soooo! I believe I still owe you a water.” And you all but ran from him, tail between your legs.
Fine. You could run. He'd catch you eventually.
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What did you do?
No, seriously, the FUCK did you do?
Why did you literally throw yourself at Alastor like some kind of horny, sexy tomato? Okay, so you were a horny sexy tomato, but you were a horny, sexy tomato who knew better than to throw itself at Alastor the goddamn Radio Demon!
You’d have been better off inviting a vampire into your home and offering up your neck for the taking. The simile did you no favors equating it to Alastor.
“I’m not drinking again.”
“Ha! If I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that. I’d have, what, eight bucks now?”
You and Rosie strolled through Cannibal Town after your morning tea. Since working with the hotel, your morning meet-ups weren’t as common, so you took the chance to vent to your friend about the night at the club. As suspected, she reacted to your ravings with one part gaiety and one part vexation.
“Rosie, I’m serious.”
“You’re too serious, hun. You just told me about this fabulous dance you shared with Alastor and somehow in your mind, it’s a bad thing.”
“Yes! Nearly a century I kept my distance and now all of a sudden he’s under my skin like some kind of…” you rolled your hand, trying to think of the right word. “Skin bug.”
“Poetic.”
You rolled your eyes. You haven’t even mentioned the stunt he pulled with the blood on your face... Were there even words to describe the sensuality of it? Maybe, but every time you revisited the moment, you were too preoccupied with the softness of his touch against your skin, how his tongue darted from his perfect lips to lap at the crimson liquid, how his eyes, still glazed with hunger, never left yours.
Rosie was talking, you realized. You stored the memory for later and zoned back in.
“I’ve always thought you two should get to know each other,” she said. “Alastor’s a great fella.”
Silence possessed you. You unlinked arms with Rosie and sat on an ivory bench made of bone. “You know the story of Tantalus? How he’s neck deep in a river with fruit above his head but no matter what, he can’t eat or drink? That’s my current situation, only in my case the fruit and water know they’re unattainable sustenance and derive joy from it.”
Rosie made a noise of dismissal, waving away your metaphor. “Oh, so melodramatic! I can see why you run a theater.”
“Ha ha.”
“Temerity.” She sat with you, taking your hands in hers. “This is a good development. Alastor has a tendency to be… standoffish, but it’s obvious he genuinely enjoys your company. You think he’d dance with anyone?”
She was right, and you knew she was right. Why couldn’t you be satisfied with that? “I know. I’m not saying I wish he’d give me a chance because I’ve met those men, killed those men, then sent those men your way—”
“—Thanks again for the late-night delivery the other day.”
“Of course, hun. I’m not in the business of pushing boundaries, but I can’t help but feel that way from time to time. I hate myself for it.”
“Sweetheart.” Your friend’s voice was gentle, full of sympathy. “You can’t help how you feel. And what you’re feeling isn’t wrong.”
You laughed, meaning for it to be light, but it caught in your throat and quickly died. “This isn’t going to end well for me, is it Rosie?”
She opened her mouth to say something comforting but paused and closed her mouth again. Rosie wouldn’t lie to you. You both knew this road would lead to heartbreak, the only variable was how humiliated you’d be in the end.
“Tem, if this is bothering you so badly, then you should go ahead and tell Alastor how you feel. Get it all out of the open so you can move on.”
”No!” You cleared your throat. “I mean… I can’t, I…”
You were fucking terrified.
Rosie would never shame you, you knew this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It felt foolish to admit it out loud. On earth and in Hell, you’ve been beaten, bloodied, and bruised. You’ve had a knife to your throat or the barrel of a gun to your head more times than you like to admit, yet the idea of confession and rejection terrified you more.
You liked to think, it made perfect sense. In your experience, pain was fleeting, much of it mercifully unremarkable or a distant memory. But the pain of rejection, well…
You’ve dealt with that since the day you were born.
Your one scar that never fully healed.
Despite never vocalizing your fears, Rosie understood you. “I know it seems daunting, but I think Alastor may surprise you.”
“Right, because Alastor extended such grace to Vox.”
No one knew the truth about Alastor and Vox. Most took their rivalry at face value, but older demons remember the rumors; the Radio Demon forming an alliance with the up-and-coming Overlord, the alleged relationship in stark contrast to their current mutual antagonism.
Conversely, you always suspected Rosie knew more than she ever let on. Your friend, usually so fond of gossiping, kept her lips buttoned on the subject over the years. She claimed it was improper to talk about such manners behind a friend's back, and while you weren’t convinced you never pressed.
Rosie sucked pointed teeth in exasperation. “Come now! Your relationship with Alastor is not comparable— don’t give me that look, you know what I mean. Hold out for a little while longer. I’m sure this’ll all blow over soon.”
You hoped she was right
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You once again found yourself at the hotel bar, laughing at something Angel said as Husk poured you two a drink. Angel held his Fat Nuggets, the cutest little pig in his second set of arms.
“And you seriously don’t know what kind of pig he is?” you asked, flabbergasted.
Angel shrugged. “I dunno. He’s… a pig.”
“He’s a Hell Hog!”
“A little redundant, ain't it?”
“No, well yes, but… never mind.” You pet the porker on his pink little head. “How’d you get your hands on this lil cutie, anyway?”
“Nuggs was… a gift. From my boss.” Angel set the piglet on the bar counter. “Speaking of which, I need to tell you something.”
Husk grimaced, like “oh shit, here we go,” and scooted a shot over to the spider.
Angel tossed it back before fixing his eyes on a stain on the counter. “I… I’m not going to audition for the show. I wanted to tell you now so you ain’t surprised when I don’t show up later..”
Tem frowned, concerned, resting a hand on his. “Oh Angel, hun, why? You’d be dynamite!”
“Oh, honey. I know I'm dynamite,” he said with peak confidence. “I just don't think I'm the one you're looking for for all this inspirational razzmatazz.”
“Bullshit,” Husk spat. “It’s fucking Valentino.”
Angel deflated. “Shit! Yeah, Val, he… he thinks it’ll take up too much of my time away from the studio and it would ‘ruin my branding’ or somethin’.”
Husk muttered something about Valentino being full of shit, to which Angel happily concurred. You clenched your hands under the bar, nails biting into the flesh of your palm.
“Oh, what horseshit!” You scoffed. “People like Valentino will make up any excuse to have a <i>crumb</i> of control. It’s pathetic. Tell me Angel, truthfully, do you want to do the show? Forget what Valentino says.”
“I mean yeah, I do, but—”
“But nothing. If you want to then you will. Leave it to me, hun.”
Husk raised a half-interested brow while Angel looked ill. “Look, I appreciate the offer but you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re planning to do. My boss, Val, he's–”
“A shitstain sandwich?”
Husk nodded with a small smile as he poured a glass of water for Fat Nuggets. “Exactly.”
You hopped off the stool, all smiles and bravado. “Angel, dear, just bring your spunky little butt to auditions and do your best. I promise that’s all you have to worry about. And maybe one day, this sweet little guy will bite Valentino’s stupid bald head off for you.” You stroked Fat Nuggets back as he sipped his water. “You will, won’t you? Yes, you will, good boy!”
Angel hugged both sets of arms to him, apprehensive. You smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder (with effort, he’s tall!) reassuring your friend you’d handle it. You held your smile as you walked out the door of the hotel, unaware of the shadow behind you. By the time you made it to your car, your smile disappeared.
“Shit!” you leaned against your car and pulled out a cigarette. Another “shit” escaped your lips when you realized you had no lighter. You placed the unlit cig in your mouth, foot tapping anxiously.
How in Hell were you going to get Angel out of his scenario? You had no pull when it came to the Vees, and no hope in getting their attention, at least not anytime soon.
You weren’t one to get involved in others’ affairs. Sure you’d gladly help out your friends and lend a hand when they needed one, but going against the will of an Overlord was above your wheelhouse. Those situations tended to land one in ripe hot shit. Needless to say, you preferred to avoid ripe hot shit.
But you felt for Angel. You weren’t lying when you said he had talent, and vermin Valentino squandered it. The moth demon reminded you all too much of Roman. They were both bastards who took advantage of the scared, weak, and vulnerable, all but stole their souls, and got off to abuse. You couldn’t break Angel’s contract, but you couldn’t stand by and let Valentino take this from him.
“Something troubling you, my dear?”
You inhaled your cigarette, gagging on the cylinder until you uncouthly hacked it out.
“Alastor!” You wiped your mouth, not noticing the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “No, no. I'm fine, I’m… thinking.”
“About how you're going to get in touch with the Vees, hmm?”
You fixed him with a look. “Should I be surprised? Eavesdrop more, please.”
He snapped his fingers, and a new cigarette appeared in your mouth. Small green flames danced along his fingertips but he made no move to light your cig for you. You leaned forward, pulling back once your cigarette kindled.
Eyes closing, you took a slow drag of the cancer stick and exhaled, acrid smoke wafting through the air. “Thanks.”
“Of course, dear, but back to your accusation. Overhearing a loud conversation in a public space is hardly eavesdropping.”
“I hear they call it voyeurism nowadays.”
Smiling tight, he hummed in lieu of false laughter. “I’m afraid you’re running a fool's errand, doll. Someone like you who’s not much of an Overlord to begin with has no hope in Hell of waltzing into the Vees tower and getting a meeting. You wouldn’t even show up on their radar.”
He pinched your cheek, condescension dripping from his teeth, as if to say “wasn’t I right?”
You pushed him away. “Oh, piss off, Alastor. You think I’m stupid? Don’t answer.”
“My dear I don’t think you’re stupid, merely woefully unprepared. But I have an idea.~” He wrapped an arm around you, nails digging into the meat of your shoulder. “A surefire way to get you in touch with Vox himself.”
Any other time you’d be overjoyed at his touch, but he had to go and be aggravating. You crossed your arms. “Which is?”
“Come now, dear. You can’t expect me to offer my services with nothing in return. Especially since you were so rude.”
“I doubt I could ever hurt your feelings, or that you’d want anything from me.”
He laughed, and her stomach churned. “That’s where you’re wrong, doll. I want to make a deal with you.”
You flicked the cigarette and stubbed it out. “Forget it. I’m not giving you my soul.”
Alastor’s eyes twitched as if the suggestion annoyed him. “Who said anything about souls? I promise to get you an immediate audience with Vox and in turn, you answer three little questions for me where you have to be fully honest.”
You pulled away from him. “What quest—”
“Ah-ah-ah!” He placed a finger over your lips. “What makes this deal worth it is the uncertainty. I can’t have you prepping lies in a desperate attempt to save face.”
Fuck.
Did he know?
He couldn’t know—
Alastor stared down at you like a predator who’d finally caught its meal. It scared you, and excited you?
No, no, no! You can examine those feelings later!
You took another step back, inwardly groaning as soon as the heat of his touch left your skin. There was a subtle tremor of his shoulders, eyes crinkling. He was holding back laughter.
“What’ll it be, my dear?”
What choice did you have?
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This burn is going slower than I originally planned, lol. Hope you aren’t getting bored.
Also, if you want to send Tem or the other HH/HB characters that show up in the story an ask, go ahead and I’ll answer with a sketch.
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thursdayinspace · 1 day
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I was going to do a complete season 1 review for the rewatch, but instead I did a close reading of this scene from 1x24 The Erlenmeyer Flask, because I can’t get it out of my head, I love it so much.
Scully: Wait a second. Mulder? I just want to say that I was wrong. Mulder: It's all right, don't worry about it. Scully: No, um, if you'd had listened to me, we wouldn't be here right now. I should know by now to trust your instincts. Mulder: Why? Nobody else does. Scully: You know, I've always held science as sacred. I've always put my trust in the accepted facts. And what I saw last night . . . for the first time in my life, I don't know what to believe. Mulder: Well, whatever it is you do believe, Scully, when you walk into that room? Nothing sacred will hold.
This is a big moment for various reasons. It’s a defining moment for their partnership. This is almost a summary of the season.
Possibly the biggest thing for their partnership is her admitting she was wrong and Mulder’s reaction to it. We don’t know this, but from all the context we have of his life at this point, it’s safe to assume that Mulder doesn’t get apologies very often. “I just want to say that I was wrong.” It’s important to her to let him know that. And that alone says something about the way she sees him. He’s generally seen as crazy and paranoid. But not by her. More than that, she sees him as a person with feelings that can be hurt, and she wants to make sure he knows that wasn’t her intention. “I should know by now to trust your instincts,” that is a huge thing to say and has to be something that needs a minute to sink in for him. She trusts him. Which is something he knows already to an extent, but to hear it said that openly after how vehemently they disagreed on this is a different thing.
In that context it’s worth looking at their exchange after visiting Doctor Berube. She tells him: “I mean, this has reached the point of absurdity, Mulder. We're out here on half a hunch off of a cryptic phone call chasing down a clue that's based on nothing but speculation.” She voices her mistrust of Deep Throat and Mulder asks her “You think he does it because he gets off on it?” To which she replies: “No. I think he does it because you do.” And then she walks off, effectively ending that argument, she doesn’t have anything more to say. She’s made her point. And to come back from that the way they do in this scene, that is a real testament to how much respect they have for each other. Yeah, he was right. And yeah, he gets that she has to ask the uncomfortable questions.
Just the fact alone that she thinks he deserves an apology is a lot; she doubted him and she’s sorry for that because she knows he’s not crazy. They’re partners and they work as partners. She’s not there with him right now because he asked her. She’s there because she genuinely wants to be and genuinely believes that his explanations of the facts hold value and that she takes them seriously. And nobody ever takes him seriously. He points that out to her right away.
In fact, his whole interaction with her in this scene shows a vulnerability that needs the context of the rest of the season to be fully understood. He could say all of these things to anybody else, word for word, and it would simply be the equivalent of a shrug and a “fine, let’s move on.” But with everything they have been through and with the way we’ve seen them opening up to each other, this means something very different.“It's alright, don't worry about it.” I mean. Shit. The thing is, it probably is alright on the surface. It is a way to shrug it off. Not being taken seriously has to hurt, but he’s used to it, so really, she shouldn’t worry about it, she’s there now and that’s all that matters. But it’s not all that matters to her.
His reaction to her telling him that she should know to trust his instincts? “Why? Nobody else does.” The way he says this, it doesn’t sound like he’s testing her. It sounds a little bitter, but that bitterness is not directed at her. After years of being at best ignored, more often ridiculed, of course he doesn’t have a more positive reaction to something like this at hand. But I don’t think there can be any doubt that it means something to him. She smiles after he says this, and that also says something: she doesn’t count herself among the people who dismiss him and she gets that he’s not dismissing her. She sees the self-deprecating humor in his response. She also hears the “thank you for not being one of them” in his response. His face stays sincere. He isn’t challenging her, but he needs to know why she’s sticking around. It’s such a loaded response. You can hear a lot of things in it if you want, which makes it such a well-written exchange: he is a little confused as to why she’s sticking around, he’s thanking her for being there, he’s bitter about and/or used to nobody believing him, I mean, hell, it isn’t even impossible to find a flirty note in there. In any case, he’s downplaying her apology not because he doesn’t appreciate it, but because he didn’t see it coming since most likely nobody has ever bothered or seen the need before. At the same time, he’s telling her he trusts her too.
Scully has had her beliefs challenged, and she shows right here and right now how much of a scientist she really is. She is ready to admit that one theory hasn’t worked, so she is prepared to examine a different one that looks more promising. This is one of her core traits: she never clings to her theories out of some sense of vanity. She doesn’t have to be right. She just wants to understand, and she needs facts to do so. Poking holes in things is part of science, to see how well it holds up. It’s about getting as close to the truth as they can. And with the evidence to support Mulder’s arguments, she can be convinced to have a closer look at his theory. She says: “I've always held science as sacred. I've always put my trust in the accepted facts.” And that’s what is being challenged here. This is seriously stretching the boundaries of what she accepted to be fact. But she doesn’t stubbornly cling to what she believes. It’s a process, and she respects that as much as he does. Their arguing is never just for the sake of it.
Scully says: “For the first time in my life, I don't know what to believe.” How big is that? But this is something that reiterates and reinforces something we have seen throughout the season again and again: they trust each other. She isn’t afraid to admit her insecurity to him. They’re faced with something she can’t wrap her head around, when knowing things is kind of her job? She makes herself very vulnerable with this statement. His response picks up on that and tells her she’s right to question everything: “Well, whatever it is you do believe, Scully, when you walk into that room? Nothing sacred will hold.” He’s telling her it’s okay, it is all a bit hard to believe. He’s well aware of that. This is not trying to convince somebody to try mayo instead of ketchup with their fries. This is about the fundamentals of her worldview. He does not expect her to be convinced. He is sure she will be impressed. But he accepts her doubt, he always does. “Whatever it is you do believe.” No pressure, but here’s a cool thing that will definitely give you some answers. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen, but that’s a different story.
This little conversation between them is such a pivotal moment. It truly shows who they have become individually and as partners. It wraps up the season very nicely and at the same time cements the foundation of their partnership for season two. Because they can have a conversation like this one and understand what the other one is saying, their pining after each other at the beginning of the next season makes sense. They’ve become very important to each other, they show each other their vulnerable sides, they take care of each other. This little conversation sums that up perfectly.
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