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#they have a very loose grasp on cause and effect
sarawritestories · 2 months
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can I request an Az x reader fic with lots of hurt/comfort vibes? maybe they are out on the town and they run into the readers ex who was not very nice to her and she gets scared and az goes into protective mode? thanks thanks thanks!!
My Wife. My Mate. My World
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Azriel X Plus Size F Reader
A/N: Thank you for this request! This just felt fitting to have as a plus size reader I hope that's okay! This is also my first time writing for Az and I hope I did him justice for you!
Summary: Azriel and You are in your home Court of the Summer Court. When you run into your ex, the confidence you spent a long time building was shredded and your Mate was more than happy to remind you how amazing you were.
Content Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, Depictions of verbal abuse and slight (Briefly), slight fat shaming, low self esteem, fluffy ending
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.6k words
It was a beautiful day in your home court, Summer Court, your hair was up in a curly bun and a loose cobalt dress that had a crisscross design on the front and two high slits. The dress accentuated your curves and was one of your favorites. You didn’t bother with jewelry as shadows were always swirling around your arms and in the blazing summer heat their cool touch was a welcome reprieve.  A Hand wrapped around your waist as you walked through the beach, “I love you, in Night Court attire, but you are a goddess in Summer Court dresses.” Azriel whispered causing you to giggle.
“Azriel, you have said that when we are in every other court except for the Spring Court, and you also say that I am a goddess with no clothes on at all.” I tuck myself into his side, “I’m beginning to think I could wear garbage and you would call me a goddess.”
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “You would make quite divine garbage, Angel.” You rolled your eyes and elbowed him though he was quick and gripped your arm spinning you around while simultaneously taking your legs out from under you with his own. The next thing you knew your back was pressed against the warm sand and the shadowsinger was on top of you pinning your arms above your head with one hand. His wings flared up to block the sun rays, so you weren’t squinting. He had a playful smirk on his face, “Violence is never the answer, my love.” There was a twinkle in his eye as his face lowered to yours.
“Says one of the most feared spymaster and warrior in all of Prythian.” You murmured before his lips were on yours. The kiss makes your toes curl but every kiss he gives you has that effect ever since your first date, it only intensified when the mating bond snapped for both of you. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, and you moaned and arched your back yearning for more friction.  He pulled away causing you to groan in protest. He chuckled and pushed off you standing and dusting the sand off his knees.  You glared at him, “You’re cruel, Shadowsinger,” he laughed and held out his hand, you grasped it the scars bringing comfort on your skin.
Azriel lifted you up and gripped your waist bringing you close kissing your nose, “Listen I’m not trying to get a bloodstone because of public nudity. Rhys would kill us both.” His hand grazed down to your plump ass and squeezed, “When we get home though,” he continued to grope and, in a flash, slapped your tender flesh causing you to gasp as his lips grazed the shell of your ear, “I will happily show you how cruel I can be.”
You could feel the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, “Is that a promise?”
He was about to respond when a familiar voice rang in your ears, “Y/N? Is that you?” Your body stilled and shadows swirled around my body anxious from the shift. You turned and were met with a familiar set of eyes. The male was in the Summer Court army uniform his gold skin compliment
You pulled away from Azriel and he let you to fully face your ex, “Micah, what a pleasant surprise.” You gave him a grin, but Azriel as he moved to your side his wings tucked in tightly.
Micah gave you a tight lip smile, “For sure, I heard you were in the throws of the Night Court.” He looked over to where your mate his cold assessing gaze.  Azriel’s relaxed demeaner shifted, he widened his legs, crossed his arms and made sure that one wing curved around you.
Micah opened his mouth and with a familiar glint in his eye you gripped Azriel’s arm. “Where are my manners? Micah, this is Azriel, my mate. Az, this is Micah, an old friend of mine.” Rage flared briefly in his gaze at your choice of words. “Darling, could you give us a minute?” you looked over at my mate, who’s hazel eyes met yours his brow quirked, “Just going to catch up, I’ll meet you at the café, okay?” Azriel met Micah’s gaze who puffed his chest out and you rolled your eyes.
Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead. “You sure?” he whispered, you gave him a nod and he gripped your face in your hands, and he crushed his lips to yours letting the kiss linger for a minute longer, and with a wary glance over the other male, he made a few stepped backs and took to the skies. A cool shadow still swirled around your wrist sliding up your arm and around your neck.
Micah held out an arm and I slipped my hand through his I felt his hand instantly flexed. “So, you fuck vermin now?” I scowled at him, and he laughed and continued, “You really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel, huh?”
You gritted my teeth, “Watch your fucking mouth, Micah,” trying to focus on your feet sinking into the sand.
Micah proceeded, “Why did you leave, Y/N?” He feigned sadness and you saw right through it. “We were so good together.” He took a moment to look me up and down, “Though you, don’t look nearly as radiant as you did when you were sinking into my cock.” His arm moved and snaked around my waist, his hand gripped the flesh and my body tensed. “They clearly do not treat you the way you deserved. With discipline.” I didn’t even notice my shadow fleeing.
You closed your eyes and tried block out his words, but you were sent back to that time before the Night Court took you in.
“Get out of my house,” Micah gritted out. The blonde soldier in his bed scrambled to get clothes on as the male placed his arms behind his head arrogance seeping out of his pores as the female fled and bumped into you fleeing the house you shared. “Enjoy the show, Princess.”
You wanted to be heartbroken by this, but you had suspected him of being unfaithful. I crossed my arms and leaned on the door frame, “How long?”
He snorted and decided to rise from the bed, “Does it matter? You’re not going to leave.”
Anger began to bubble up, “Oh really? Why is that?”
Micah approached with predatory grace and gripped my chin tightly. “Because I’m the only one who will give you the time of day. I mean you and I both know you’re plain looking,” He looked down at my body, “Your body is subpar, and you are lucky that I put up with you.” He pressed his thumb that smelled of the female he was with on my bottom lip and propped my mouth open. I knew what he wanted me to do. “You going to be a good girl or are we going to need to punish you.” I closed my mouth over his thumb and sucked, tears did fall of humiliation. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, “So here is what’s going to happen, you are going to be my pretty little doll for all events, and we’ll go on dates, and I will fuck anyone in our shared bed I please.”
A hand patting my cheek brought me back to the present, “Ah, good you’re back.” Micah smirked. “Were you thinking about me, Princess.” Uncomfort began to settle in my bones, and I sent that feeling down the bond as Micah pinned me against his chest.
With a thud and a cloud of sand blue siphons radiated through the smoke. Emerging from the cloud Azriel’s shadows swirled around and ready to attack. Rage filled those hazel eyes of his. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her. Now.” His voice was ethereal the shadows giving it a haunting cadence and it entranced you.
 Micah only tightened his grip on the order, and you yelped Azriel snarled. “Well look at that, Y/N you found someone who would be willing to kill, for your mediocrity.” You flinched as you met the shadowsinger’s eyes. His Hazel irises softened as he watched the verbal blow land. Though in a flash they steeled into calm rage as shadows leaked from his body and wrapped around you again bringing comfort.
Micah ignored the lethal man in front of him, “I mean maybe your Cunt is not so medio-“Azriel’s fist collided with the male’s face and he released his gripped on you. You wrapped your arms around Azriel’s neck and inhaled his scent.
“I got here as quickly as I could,” The High Lord of the Summer Court’s voice broke through the chaos on the beach. “Y/N, are you okay?” You turned to face him, Azriel’s hand splayed across your stomach soft circles rubbing my stomach.
“I’m fine, Asshole never knew when to shut up.” You muttered, your brows furrowed, “How did you know?”
“Azriel’s shadows alerted us something was wrong with one of our Soldiers and a member of a different court.”
You leaned into Azriel’s chest his hand holding you protectively, your head resting at his shoulder, “You never went to the café did you,” his shadows sputtered around me as if trying to confirm my theory.
He pressed his lips on your hair line, “The shadows that love you so much didn’t trust him, so I didn’t go far.”  He looked at Tarquin, “Will he be taken care of?”
Tarquin nodded, “Yes he will, we don’t take lightly to our soldiers manhandling civilians, especially when they hail from a different Court.” He looked at you, “I know this was once your home, I always want you to feel welcome here. I’m so sorry for Micah’s behavior.”
You crossed my arms around my body, “Micah has always been like that, but I appreciate you handling this for me.”
Tarquin nodded and walked to the other sentries that were hauling a knocked-out Micah away.
Azriel nuzzled his nose in your neck taking in your scent, “Would you like to go home?” He whispered.
               You closed my eyes, “Please.” Azriel pressed his lips to your neck and shadows erupted around the two of you and then you were in our town home that you built after you had your mating ceremony.
You pulled away from your mate and gave him a tight smile, “I’m going to hop in the bath get the sand out.”
Azriel smiled, “Want me to join you, worship you like the goddess you are.”
You shook your head, “Sorry, my love, I’m not in the mood.” You cupped his face and gave his free cheek a kiss.
He furrowed his brow and watched as you walked to your shared room and went into the bathroom.  In a few moments’ time you were in the bathtub and thinking back to everything Micah had said.
Your body is subpar, and you are lucky that I put up with you.
Did Azriel feel that way?
You’re plain looking.
Azriel always said you were his goddess, was he lying. Micah always lied and told me how beautiful I was.
Hours went by and you barely moved out of the bath and there was a soft knock on the door, Azriel poked his head in as you were staring at your knees. “Angel.” The spymaster walked into the room, closing the door behind him, and leaned against it. “You’ve been in here for hours.” You met his gaze, and he inhaled sharply as he felt worthlessness down the bond. In only a few strides he was by your side and gripping your hand, “Talk to me.”
Tears began to resurface as you faced your mate, “I’m sorry, Az.”
Azriel’s brows furrowed. “For what?” He was stroking the top of your hand with his thumb.
“For not being a good enough mate for you.” Azriel’s eyes flashed with pain but were gone in an instant. “You deserve someone better than me.” Tears were falling down your face and your breathing began to quicken, “I’m not worth-“
Azriel gripped the back of your neck and pressed your forehead against his and your eyes fluttered closed. “Shhh, enough of that.” He pressed a kiss on your forehead that was so tender, and he sent love down the bond like a caress on your soul. “Let’s get you clean up.” Azriel grabbed soap and a rag and began washing your body and massaging your hair. He was whispering sweet little nothings in your ear as he cleaned the sand and dirt from the day.
When he was done, he helped you out of the tub and wrapped you in a towel, his shadows bringing in your favorite nightgown that was the same blue as Azriel’s siphons. “Arms up.” You lifted your arms, tears still flowing down your cheeks.
Once the nightgown hugs your skin you wrap your arms around yourself, and the cool touch of the shadows yank my arms apart and your brows furrowed. “They don’t like you hiding,” His hands met yours and the comfort of his scars kissing your skin the shadows slithering between both of your hands. “I don’t like it either.”
He led you to your shared bedroom and led you to the full-length mirror. His shadows swirling around your neck and through your hair giving you some light kisses. He rubbed the top of your arms and left soft kisses on your bare shoulder. His hazel eyes met yours in the mirror, “Tell me, Angel, what do you see?”
You took a deep shaky breath, “I see me.” He casts a look toward you, causing you to bite your lip. “I see a plain, large woman who isn’t a warrior like Feyre or Nesta, Or beautiful like Gwyn or Elain.”
Azriel wrapped his arms around your torso, his fingers digging into your soft skin and gave your shoulder a soft bite, eliciting a moan from you. “You want to know what I see?” I nod and he presses you closer to his chest and sways back and forth as he looks at your reflection. “I see a strong female, that fought and lived though a war. I see a kindhearted female, who took it upon herself to make her best friend’s mate comfortable just so she didn’t feel alone,” You smile thinking of the first time you met Ferye. “I see a loving female, who saw the mangled hands of a broken male and decided to kiss every scare telling him that you want to place good memories on those scars to erase the bad ones.”
Your hand founds his and gave him a squeeze as tears streamed down before he turned you around to face him, he tucked the wet strands of hair behind your ear, “I see a female, who is powerful because she was brave enough to leave an abusive situation with someone who did not appreciate or respect all the amazing things, I adore about you.” He wiped the tears from your cheeks and kissed you passionately for a moment and when he pulls away, he keeps your face close to his. “I love you, Y/N. Your smile almost made me fall to my knees in praise.” You laughed and you could see his eyes light up at the sound. “My Wife, My Mate, my world, is anything but mediocre. You are amazing and I thank the Cauldron everyday that it brought you to me.” He kissed your nose, “My beautiful.” A kiss to my lips, “Kind,” Another kiss, “Passionate,” another kiss, “Sexy,” he growled, and I smiled, “Mate.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you, Az.” You kissed his lips and Azriel’s hands slid down to grip your plump ass, “Now I do recall you saying something about worshiping me-“ You couldn’t finish your statement before Azriel scooped you in his arms and put you to your bed and spent all night showing you just how amazing he thought you were.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
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Lego
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Jessie Fleming x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: There's Lego in your practice bag
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You don't know who packed your Lego in your practice bag but you're very grateful.
Morsa doesn't let you take the Lego out of the house, let alone play with it while she and Momma are busy.
Training is pretty boring today and, after shadowing Zećira for a while, you return to your spot on the side of the pitch and dig through your bag.
That's where you found your Legos - squished between your girl-swan and girl-moose. Usually, you would play with your stuffed animals but the lure of your out-of-place Legos give you pause.
They're in a loose plastic baggy after Momma threw away the actual box they came in. There's all different types of bricks that you aimlessly click into place as the Not-Wolfsburg team practice in the distance.
You reach into your bag again to grab your snack and guzzle down your juice.
You click a brown piece into place on top of a green brick.
You pick up a yellowish brick. It's almost the same colour as your goldfish crackers and you take a moment to study it.
Momma and Morsa always tell you not to stick strange things into your mouth but your Lego isn't strange and you'll only have it in your mouth for a moment - just to find out what it tastes like.
Only you don't have it in your mouth for a little while.
You have it in your mouth for a long time and, when you hurriedly suck in a breath, it doesn't come back out again.
For a moment, you're confused and then panic sets in.
Your Lego won't come out and you can't breath properly.
You try to cough it out, tears blurring your vision, but the only sound that comes out of your mouth is an odd high-pitched whistling. It scares you a lot and you grasp at your throat.
You wish you had listened to Momma and Morsa.
●~●~●~●~
Jessie's running sprints by herself, trying to get herself in the right mindset for shooting practice when she spots you.
You're lying face first in your pile of Lego (which is frankly odd because you are neither the kind of kid to nap so early in the day nor one to play with Lego unsurprised) twitching slightly.
Your little outstretched fingers are flexing ever so slightly and the rise and fall of your chest is shallow, almost like you're in some panicked state of sleep.
Usually, Jessie would leave you be - Pernille was complaining just a moment ago that you got up three times last night - but something about the way you're laying (with Lego bricks digging into your cheeks) doesn't sit right with her.
As she gets closer, she starts to move faster, suddenly aware of the wheezing sounds your little body is making and how each rise of your chest is shaky and stilted.
Jessie grasps a hold of your shoulders and rolls you over onto your back.
Your eyes are barely open, almost slumped completely closed as tears leak from them. Your lips are a horrid purple-blue colour and it doesn't take long for Jessie to work out what's wrong.
"Hey!" She yells, effectively getting the attention of everybody on the pitch," I need medics over here! Now!"
She flips you easily over again, balancing your limp little body on her forearm and your chin rests in the gap between her thumb and first finger, keeping your mouth wide open.
"Quickly!" Jessie yells over her shoulder, noticing the way that Magda and Pernille have begun to sprint over.
She delivers five harsh smacks to the spot between your shoulder blades.
The first four do nothing but the last one causes a saliva-covered Lego brick to tumble out of your mouth and onto the floor.
You suck in a ragged breath, your airway finally free from obstruction, and promptly burst into tears.
Jessie flips you upright again, settling you against her body as you sob, your shaking fingers latching tightly onto her training top.
Magda and Pernille arrive moments later with the medics, who hurriedly place an oxygen mask over your face when your lips remain a soft tinge of blue.
"Oh, princesse," Pernille cries, gently taking you from Jessie as you sob and cry," That was so scary. Was that scary?"
"What happened?" Magda looks wildly between you and Jessie, eyes wide in panic.
"Lego," Jessie replies," She was choking on one. I got it out but...She was already halfway to passing out. Sorry I didn't get there quicker."
"Shut up." Magda pulls Jessie in for a tight hug, squeezing her. "You've probably just saved her life. I can't thank you enough, Jessie. She could have died and you just saved her."
Jessie doesn't want to think about that - about the way that you could have easily died on the side of the pitch without anybody realising, starved of oxygen.
You're still crying, albeit more softly than before, when Magda pulls away, clapping Jessie on the shoulder before moving closer to you.
You're still wearing the oxygen mark but you're regaining colour in your face and your lips are slowly going back to normal.
"Hi, princesse," She says softly, stroking at your cheek," You really scared us earlier. Where'd you get all that Lego?"
"In-In my bag," You wheeze," Was in my bag. Sorry."
"In your bag?" Pernille asks," You don't have to be sorry, princesse. Now you know not to put them in your mouth."
"Scary," You croak out.
"Yeah, I'm sure it was," Magda says as another medic checks your breathing again, giving her a firm nod and removing the mask," Super, duper scary, huh?"
You nod, flexing your fingers against Pernille's top. "Scary," You repeat again. You're pointedly not looking at the baggy of Legos that Jessie is slowly packing up and slipping into your backpack.
"I know," Pernille whispers to you, resting her chin on the top of your head and holding you close," I know, princesse, but it's okay. We're gonna have a little talk with Emma and we'll go home. We're going to get all nice and cosy in our pyjamas and just relax for the rest of the day, alright?"
You nod against her as Morsa hurries off to talk to Coach Emma.
Jessie takes her place, sitting in front of you. She's holding girl-swan and girl-moose, offering them to you.
"Thank you."
She smiles at you. "No problem. I hope you feel better soon."
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bu-blegh-ost · 4 months
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Let's analyze Captain Rose's final message (ep. 113 spoilers!!!)
I have transcribed the entire thing into my notes, and there are few parts that I believe give us some subtle hints to important lore bits. So let's take a look at these fragments, shall we?
"Even with the Emperor’s gracious accommodations, I can never feel at ease unless I’m sleeping on the sea. Tomorrow, we depart this beautiful country for one last ride."
Nothing that crazy here, but now we have a better grasp at the timeline. So this confirms, that the last place Black Rose Pirates have been to, before they departed for the final adventure led by Hendrix's map was Onowa Country, and judging by what comes next, the chest was also created and left there during that last stay.
"But…if you’re hearing this, it means we all died."
If you recall, Drey mentioned few episodes back, that thier final excursion was of little significance, barely worth remebering. But here Rose is, about to embark on it, his last adventure before he retires, and he believes that he's going to die. That they all are. Rose must have hidden the true importance of this adventure from the rest of his crew. He KNEW that it's very likely they are not coming back from it, he KNEW he is not actually retiring. So, the question is, did Rose truly meant to leave life at sea for his wife and children, or did he chose to retire cause he knew he was about to die and he needed an excuse, to tie all the loose ends before he goes without alarming anyone?
"Even so, freedom can look so different for the individual. Not every pirate’s gonna play fair. I’ve been prepping for this moment a long time. The day I’d be outmaneuvered."
Something happened to Rose before that. If you ask me, something must have been put on Rose. A spell? A deal perhaps? Something must have happened between Rose and Hendrix (I can't be sure it was him ofc, but I feel like it is pretty obvious at this point). The map he gave him was a final retirement gift. Whatever happened, Hendrix surely did or offered something that made Rose unable to refuse the last adventure. Rose was forced to open the Hole in the Sea. He was forced to attempt to free the Nameless Prince, and he knew, he is bringing his crew to possible death. He knew they may not make it out of the sea in time, before whatever he had to do takes effects, before the sea turns black. I don't believe he would do this if he could find another way. This line makes me feel like he was tricked, finally cornered by Hendrix. It would also make sense why Rose never listened to Finn's warnings when he told him abt Hendrix hiding his true arcane ability. It's possible he knew already. It's possible he was already chained by it.
"Now I fear, we’ll be remembered for something we didn’t do."
The hole in the sea. The one thing people always mention when Black Rose pirates are concerned. He was right. But it only proves, that Rose in this entire game was a tool. Just a person forced to do another's bidding, to be at the right place, at the right time. A sacrifice, but not a player. Niklaus told Chip it was Rose who opened the Hole in the Sea. And he was right, kinda. TECHNICALLY it was Rose. But he was not acting of his free will. He was forced to do it. And who made him? Well, probably the one person who knows that it was him.
"Anyways, I think I should have cared about how my friends would remember me. My family…"
A beautiful comparison between Chip and Rose. Rose sought fullfillment, legacy, Chip sought to recreate his childhood, but they both realised that what they always wanted in the end was family. Rose realized it too late, Chip did so on time. And he did manage to create a family he can feel content about, be proud of. Rose's story is a reminder for him, of how things could have ended.
"If my wife is still alive, tell her, tell our child, her child, I’m sorry."
Rose left Onowa knowing he will not retire. He knew he lied to his wife when he told her that he'll raise their child with her. Did he ever mean it? Did he know that he is doomed from the start, or was there a true intention of going back to her, before Hendrix came and his fate was sealed? Also, that makes me think that Reuben is not Rose's biological son. "OUR child" refers to the kid they had together, "HER child" might refer only to his wife's son, to Reuben. Still, he must have cared for him enough to decide that he also deserved apology.
"Thanks for coming to look for us. I knew you would.
Take care, Chip. "
I wonder if he actually knew. Could Hendrix promise him that Chip would be saved? He didn't seem to expect anyone else to make it, so it's possible that either Chip was supposed to play a special role in some way, or maybe he already did, or he was guaranteed to make it out alive regardless of the circumstances to make the journey he is on now. That could mean that Riptide Pirates were truly always destined to meet.
Okay, that will be most of my thoughts! Feel free to share yours!
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thehusbandoden · 7 months
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Words as Sweet as Honey -Aizawa Shota x Reader
A/n: technically this is for a request but also it's givin' me a break O.o
I may write and post another one in a few hours, but no promises! <33
General info:
Genre: fluff // wc: 1,388 // female reader
Summary: Aizawa Shota never knew that words could be anything but hurtful or empty until he met you.
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Aizawa Shota brought many different emotions and thoughts from a lot of different people. But almost none of them were endearing.
~
"Moody and grim. Doesn't seem like the type to have a social circle."
"Myserious and untrustworthy. I'm sure he's the traitor of UA."
"Strict and unreliable. He likes to sleep and lie a lot."
~
Were all some of the things Shota heard many times in his lifetime, in the beginning they bothered him, but after a while he develeoped an immunity to such cowardly insults.
He thought words were meaningless and wouldn't affect him anymore. But he never thought that mere words could make him feel so... warm.
It started with one goregous, playful, kind, and bold assistant. She had just got her degree for teaching and started working as an assistant. Even though Aizawa complained about having to 'pick up her slack' Principal Nezu didn't even bat an eye and assigned you to him. A part of him actually thought the two of you would work quite well together and partially hoped you'd take a liking to the tsundere teacher, and he'd do the same for you.
It took so long that he started to loose hope, but after a year and a half Shota asked you out. The two of you dated for nine months before you jumped into engagement, and then marriage three months later.
Nezu was pleased, the students were flabergasted, your fellow coworkers were smug -and a few quite richer then before-, and the two of you finally found somone who made you happy.
Even when Shota was dating you, he kept telling himself that the reason your sugar filled compliments made his face so hot and his knees so weak was because you two were still new. It was exciting to have someone he cared for that felt the same for him, and he was xsurex that you would eventually stop having that effect on him.
And he continued to make exuses and brush your words off until one night three weeks into your marriage.
~~~~
You were both quietly holding one another, him on his back, and you on his chest. After a very meaningful night full of one another and kisses as sweet as honey, you were simply bathing in one another's presense, so in love with eachother that your hearts ached.
"Shota.. you're so goregous.." you murmurred, causing his chest to shake in a chuckle.
"Say what you want Princess."
"I mean it." You replied, holding yourself up to gaze into his dark eyes.
"Okay, whatever floats your boat."
"Shota. You're goregous. Why do you keep thinking otherwise?"
Shota just sighed in annoyance, resting his hand on your head to gently guide you back to his chest.
"Don't worry about it Kitten.. let's just go back to silence."
"No no no. This is important.. why do you keep denying how goregous you are?!"
"Y/n.. I'm sorry for worrying you, I just don't see what you mean, you don't need to worry my love."
"Shota Aizawa. Look at me." You demand, pushing up to grasp his chin, caputring his gaze with your piercing e/c eyes.
"You. Are. Goregous. You are literally the sexiest man alive- I have never seen anyone more attractive then you. Your black eyes that may seem cold but are actually full of love, your smile- though sometimes creepy- is very endearing. Your hair is so soft and dreamy.. and your-"
"Okay okay- that's enough." Shota blushed, face a deep red.
"Do you really?" You ask, eyes piercing his.
"Y-yeah.."
"Good." Releasing your grip on his chin you move it to brush a strand of hair out of his face, staring into his onyx eyes. Leaning down, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him sweetly.
Moving one hand to your waist and another to cheek Shota kissed you back, causing you to hum and entangle your hands into his hair.
~~~~
Since that night Shota acknowledged how your words affected him, letting himself indulge in your honey-sweet words, returning them with his own, one upping you by giving you a breath taking kiss with each compliment.
After a while his world expanded into three people instead of two, your son holding a special place in his heart, mere inches below your own special place.
Aizawa Satoshi, first born son of Aizawa Shota and Aizawa y/n. He was deemed a genious since the beginning, and he shined from his light. He was full of smiles and laughter, he made friends quickly, due to his friendliness and kindess.
He had his Mama's eyes, and his Dada's hair. His facial structure leaned towards his Mama's, but he had his Dad's jawline.
Shota's love continues to grow each day, and so far has had eight beautiful years with his firstborn son. Even though some days were harder then others, he loved his son entirely, and was eternally greatful to you for both carrying and birthing the children the two of you shared.
Next came Emiko, your daughter. Once again she molded another place for herself, completely level with her older brother.
Emiko was sweet as sugar, and made anyone she ran into melt. Like her brother, she smiled all the time, and was a pro at negotiating.
Once again like her brother, she had Dada's hair and Mom's eyes, but she looked identical to her Dad, only resembling her Mom'd appearance with her eyes, height, and nose.
She was loved by all, but her number one fan had to be her brother.
The older boy took care of his sister since day one, she immediately took place as his best friend, and they were inseperable. Even though most days they fought like cats and dogs, if xanyonex dared try and harm her they'd have to go through her big brother, and then had to deal with their parents a few seconds later.
Emiko was only two years younger then Satoshi, and will be turning six in two weeks.
And then came Seji. Much like his older siblings he was full of smiles and kindness, making friends just as easy. Though a bit spoiled, he got along with everyone well.
Unlike his silbings, he had familiar onyx eyes and h/c hair, and instead of resembling most of one of his parents he had a largte mix in him, barely leaning more towards you.
Once again his special spot was level with his siblings, number two in Shota's entire world, mere inches below his Mama. Seji just turned two, and was protected by his entire family- including the cats.
If the Aizawa kids' goregous Mama wasn't enough to convince Shota that words weren't just empty or hurtful, but that they could be full of love, his kids finished the job.
Shota was truly spoiled. Spoiled beyond compare- in his opinion.
Every morning he was greeted by the cutest 'Dada!' or 'Daddy~!', creating a warmth that exploded from his chest, spreading all across his body.
To accompany the sweet nicknames, his kids made sure to tell him that he was very handsome, that they loved him very much, and spread secrets about their Mama.
"Mama said that you were the bestest Daddy ever!"
"Dada, Dada! Mommy says that she loved you a week after you met! Did you love her then too?!"
"Mommy says that she wants another baby!!"
"Daddy~! Mommy bought a pillow with you on it!"
Shota chuckled as the little ones rambled to him, always saving the information to tease you with later.
Due to Shota working so much, he got the kids ready for school, holding Seji the majority of the time, and then poutedly woke you up, apologizing as he gives you your morning, breath taking kiss, and handing you your toddler.
He would then take the older two kids to school and then hurry to UA himself. He would also pick the kids up and then come home to you and Seji, smiling as the toddler grabbed for him, making sure to give you a kiss while shuffling Seji around, making sure both himself and the three year old were comfortable.
Though your family wasn't perfect, and you had many rough patches- as every family does- you all loved one anther greatly, and you would make sure to get through and hard time together, no matter how imposibble it seemed.
~~~~~
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saylorsaysstop · 6 months
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Hot Water | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader
a/n: *sighs* can we all please have a Stephen?? bc i feel like he'd take such good care of his person
warnings: talks of periods, but overall just a very fluffy fic
Stephen Strange Masterlist
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Stephen sensed that something was out of the ordinary with you. When he stirred you awake while getting out of bed, the light grumbles that left your lips followed by the smothering of your face against his pillow in his absence– normal. The way you pulled one leg up to your chest and sprawled out in the lavish king-sized bed which gave him absolutely no room to snuggle even if he wanted to– normal. 
But what wasn’t normal was when Stephen leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading to the kitchen to make his coffee, you turned away from him. That grumble easily deciphered as a painful moan, earning your boyfriend’s eyebrows to curiously rise.
“Honey?” he gently taps your thigh, snaking his hand under the blankets that feel like an oven. You inch away from his touch the closer he makes it to your abdomen, a hiss falling from your lips. He notices the way you turn in on yourself, grumbling something incoherent. 
Stephen takes a seat on the edge of the bed, the weight on the mattress stirring you awake. You release an atrocious groan as the sharp pain shoots through your right side, quite honestly feeling as though you were being impaled.
“What do you want?!” you belt, causing Stephen’s face to drop. You realize what you’ve just said and slowly turn your head to look at him, feeling the effects of your words. “Oh, I’m sorry,” 
Stephen swallows. “Is everything okay?” he dares to ask. 
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you awoke to the worst time of the month… You went down to the kitchen and grabbed some water and medicine for pain relief before you trudged back to the bedroom. But now that you’re slowly waking up, the medicine has worn off, and you’re left with stabby pains in your abdomen. You felt bloated, disgusting, and like you could really murder somebody. 
“Honestly? No. I want to hurt someone.” you hiss against Stephen’s pillow which luckily smelled just like his body wash and aftershave. It was the only comforting thing besides his large hand on your thigh under the covers. 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Am I on that list of people you want to end?”
Sighing, you shake your head. “No… I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just in a lot of pain.” 
Stephen understood. While he had never experienced something like that – and he’s quite grateful he never will – he knows that as a dotting boyfriend, he should work to make it better. So he leans over and brushes his lips softly across yours, thankful for the sweet little hum you reverberated in his mouth as he gently pecks the corner before pulling away.
“Here’s what I want you to do. Stay in this bed, don’t move until I say you can, and let me take care of you.” his words were lusciously simple, the rasp in his voice making a shiver race down your spine. You dissolve into the sheets and listen to the sound of Stephen leaving the bedroom. Sighing, you turn over to try and get some relief, not meaning to fall back asleep.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you woke to the sound of water running in the bathroom and lavender filling the air. The whistle of your boyfriend makes you smile, that grin growing deeper along your lips when he appears in the doorway in nothing but his sweats. 
“What’d you do?” You giggle. 
“Ran you a bath. Come on,” he walks over to the bed and stretches his hand out for you. You place your palms into his, feeling as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet. You make your way into the bathroom to see that the jets are on, the bubbles are high, and your favorite book with some ice water is presented on the wooden table that sits over the water. 
“Stephen,” you gasp. He smiles proudly, taking you into his arms as he leans against the bathroom counter. He gently grasps the hem of your loose t-shirt and pulls it over your head, humming delightfully at the sight of your exposed skin. He leans in and kisses your lips before gently caressing your jaw with his fingertips, his lips traveling down your throat and lightly nipping at your collarbone. You throw your head back at the feeling, the euphoric sensation causing the pain to be a blur and the pleasure to be at an all-time high. “Baby,” you mewl, playing with the strings on the front of his sweatpants. 
He laughs, pulling your hands away from his forming erection, he focuses entirely on you. “We’ll have time for that later… I want you to get in the water while it’s hot,” 
Nodding, Stephen takes pride over you by shimmying your shorts down your thighs, the tent in his pants growing further at the enticing sight of you, his beloved. He grins, his teeth glittering as he sighs. Once you’re naked and prepped, he holds your hand as you step over the ledge and sink into the water. Immediately, the water swallows you and soothes the dull ache in your lower back. You grimaced, sinking inch by inch until you were fully submerged. Stephen sits on the edge and pampers you, pouring cupfuls of water onto your aching skin. 
“Have I ever told you just how much I love you? And that I don’t deserve you?”
Stephen shakes his head. “Baby, you deserve me. You also deserve the world, which I strive every day to give you.” 
You can feel the overwhelming emotion eat away at your resolve. Before Stephen can apply the face wash to your skin, he sees your lips trembling. 
“Hey, hey, why are you crying? What’s wrong– are you in pain? Tell me what you need me to do,” he drops to his knees by the tub. He washes his hands off and takes your hands into his, heart-shattering at the rolling tears. You shake your head and laugh. 
“Period hormones,” you wave your hand. “You’re just so amazing.” 
Stephen smiles, leaning forward to kiss you affectionately. 
He glances down at your book and smirks. “How would you like it if I read to you? Like we do in the library when your head is in my lap, but this time you’re in the bath?”
You don’t even need to contemplate it. Nodding your head eagerly, Stephen reaches a dry hand over to collect the book. You take a long sip of ice water and settle back into the water. 
He opens your bookmarked page and clears his throat, beginning to read. He’d do everything in his power to make sure you felt well, even if it meant sitting on a cold bathroom floor reading to you while on your period.
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tg-headcanons · 17 days
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Two thoughts:
Does the ccg use dogs to sniff out ghouls? If they do, i almost imagine they would develope a specific, ghoul hunting breed - one with an excellent sense of smell but, unlike most hunting dogs, with no instinct to bite or attack their prey but rather to just find, follow, surround and hold in place (a bit like a rhodesian ridgeback, perhaps.) After all, the dog trying to attack the ghoul would absolutely not end well at all for the dog
And
I imagine some instruments must be more grating on ghoul ears then others - i.e. a piano, for example, will generally sound nice as long as it's in tune and so i imagine ghouls wouldn't have much of an averse reaction to that instrument, even if its a beginner playing. But say, for example, you have a beginner clarinet whose instrument squeaks and shrieks like a cat that just got its tail shredded — i cant imagine that would pair terribly well with their hearing
GHOUL HUNTING DOGS GHOUL HUNTING DOGS (IVE NEVER CONSIDERED THIS BEFORE BUT MY DOG DAYCARE EMPLOYEE ASS IS GOING WILD)
The practice of using dogs to search for ghouls is a very old one, but despite falling out of practice around the 1960s due to breed health problems and more effective methods being discovered, some of them are still around like other breeds no longer used for their original purpose
Arracht hounds are an old breed that split off from Bloodhounds. They were meant to track and hunt, but some had a behavioral quirk of howling and snarling at their prey rather than attacking, alerting humans of their location but quick to scare off animals and a liability to hunts. They were mostly deemed useless bloodhounds, until a small community in rural Ireland during the Middle Ages had one of their bloodhounds do this alert display at a seemingly normal human who was later discovered to be the monster preying on their village
The breed started to be cultivated for ghoul detection. They eventually ended up as tall, long legged and wrinkly animals bred to shriek and follow their marks, and trained to seek the smell of ghouls. Before the invention of better methods, these dogs were revolutionary and often the best detection system anyone could get. They were trained to stay out of a ghoul’s grasp to keep making as much noise as possible for as long as possible until humans could show up, and their wrinkly, loose skin made it easy for them to escape, better to lose a handful of skin than be killed
This obviously wasn’t a perfect system. A lot of those dogs, even the best bred and trained, didn’t survive their encounters. Others would find false positives and cause their attending humans to attack and kill other humans. Still, back then, an imperfect alarm was better than nothing. Many places in Europe became very dangerous for ghouls, and as those dogs spread through the world it only got worse for them
Eventually the dogs fell out of use. With better methods such as rc testing discovered they were no longer the most reliable source, and both human rights organizations citing the amount of innocent humans they got killed and animal rights groups citing how many of the dogs get killed, there was less and less reason to keep them on. The final straw was just how bad the breed got. Over time the breed developed issues the same as any other, but this one had a tendency to lose hearing and eyesight early and get neurotic and dangerous when working around ghouls for too long, so most ghoul extermination organizations retired the Arracht Hounds
Most of them are now housepets, some are trying to retrain them into guard or hunting dogs, and a few rural ghoul hunting organizations still use them, but for the most part they don’t work anymore. Every once and awhile there’s a headline of a ghoul getting caught when a family’s Arracht hound went wild over an inconspicuous neighbor, but that’s as far as it goes. People in cities are advised against getting them. They shriek very loud and maybe it’s all false positives, but you really don’t want to know just how many ghoul are around you
And as for the instruments: the ghoul hatred of squeaky clarinets and trumpets is visceral. They will actively avoid middle schools and music shops where kids are learning to play them
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monstaxdirtywonk · 9 months
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Heaven is a place in hell with you pt. 8
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Member: San as Hades X Persephone reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst, smut finally lmao
Plot: it's loosely based on the myth but I've made some changes to fit my narrative
You were looking around for Hades, at this point there was only one place he'd be, he is probably reading again in the throne room. You still needed some time to get used to your new environment, but Hades has been more than understanding and you were very thankful for that. He was busy from time to time but you knew that was to be expected. He always made time for you however, getting to know each other further since you were together officially only for a week. I guess you can't say officially yet because the fellow God's didn't know about you two but you were content to be his even in secret .
"Here you are" you said a bit louder than intended which caused Hades to shake from the mere shock of your voice echoing in the peaceful room.
"You scared me" He said and started laughing nervously to reject the awkward feeling of adrenalin creeping up for no reason.
"I'm sorry" you gave him the best puppy eyes you could master and moved closer to sit on his lap.
"I'm gonna knock next time"
"You don't have to knock, just don't semi yell during the dead of the night"
You laughed because that sounded so ironic.
"It's always the dead of the night here though"
"My point exactly"
You laughed again. It seemed like someone else was taking a pass for yelling often though.
"Why is Thanatos allowed to be so loud though?"
"That's his default. I wish I could find the button to turn down his volume a bit"
"He is too feisty to not be loud anyways. But for me, I was just too excited to finally find you. I've been looking for you for some time now. Missed you already".
Hades closed the book he was reading and left it right on the table.
"I missed you too. I wanted to visit you in your rooms later on"
"I wanted to talk about that too now that you mentioned it. Why can't we sleep together? I feel like a mere guest here and it kills me".
Hades was old fashioned to say the least. But it wasn't so much about whether you were married or not but rather to take things slow. He had his fair share of experience, even though it's been a long time since he became intimate, but you had no experience whatsoever and didn't want to make you feel pressured. He didn't trust himself enough to be around you like that, sleep in the same bed, maybe his wondering hands would touch you in an improper way during the night
"I'm sorry you feel that way, sweetheart. I just thought it'd be better if we took things slow, to not overwhelm you".
"What overwhelms me in fact is not sleeping with you! I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. It's right in my grasp now but I can't have it yet somehow".
Hades sighed because he was making things harder for you, it seems like. He misunderstood and had the opossite effect.
"Okay...we can sleep together tonight then! BUT we will just sleep. Understood?"
Hades raised his eyebrow, knowing well where your thoughts were heading. Exactly where his thoughts currently are too, to be honest.
"Mmm we will see about that..." You crossed your arms underneath your bust, like a child that was throwing a tantrum. His act made you doubt his attraction towards you and that scared you off a bit. You were thankful he was considering your needs and wants but it seemed like he was controlling himself a bit too well. Little did you know.
"Come here" Hades smiled making his dimples to appear and gestured for you to sit on his lap. You loved physical touch but you didn't experience it much so far since Artemis was a bit stern about such things.
You moved closer and sat on him, moving around a bit to find a way in which you wouldn't crash his legs too much with your weight.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" You asked full of curiosity.
"My legs are fine. I'm a God after all. Something else might start acting up later on". He smirked and cackled.
You had no idea what he was talking about but you knew for a fact it was sexual. He was confusing you a bit, keeping some distance from you and now being all teasing and playful.
"I'm so happy you are here. I don't want you to take this the wrong way and feel undesirable or anything like that. It feels like a fever dream and I'm afraid I'll wake up from it".
You turned your head to face him and cupped his cheeks before placing a quick kiss on his lips.
"Do you dream often?"
"I don't sleep much to begin with. I don't need it. But, when I do, yes."
"What do you dream of, then?"
*You, he wanted to say but it'd be too cheesy maybe*
"Fields, endless fields with lots of sunshine"
"You'd like to see all those?"
"I can and I do at times but not for long, I gotta stay in the shadows. But it seems like sunshine found me here too".
He was talking about you and you knew it. You never thought of yourself as a sunny person before. You had your gloomy days, your doubts, your pessimistic moments. But if you think about it, the sun takes its breaks too, otherwise it'd burn everything down to the ground. You and Hades are like the sun and the moon, gotta work together to bring balance.
You lay down on his chest, fondling the hem of his shirt to soothe him down. He doesn't seem stressed to begin with, but you always want to be a comforting touch for others. A kiss is placed on your forehead, which lingers for some time, till the imprint of sensual lips is left behind, a reminder of his love.
"What are you dreaming about?" Hades asked softly, waiting to hear about fairies and sheep. He didn't know your dreams can get more daring than that. Not too daring because you can't dream of things you don't know of, right?
"I used to dream of freedom. To be set free and to live on my own. Living here never was my ideal life, according to my inner desires at least. But I did choose to be here and that granted me great freedom for once. I was naive about love, still am, but the very first taste was so sweet that it made me drunk quickly. I took a sound decision though. As sound as someone in love can be".
Hades started petting your hair softly and then spoke out.
"I want you to know that you are free here. If you want to leave and go somewhere, you can. You are used to God's being above you, but I want you to think of us as equals."
Your eyes grew twice in size.
"I can't think of such thing, Hades. That'd be blasphemy after all. I don't want you to get in trouble or anything. I know my place in this world."
"Which world?"
That was a really good question. What someone defines as world is a vast and abstract concept. Your world used to be the world of the living, but you're not there anymore.
"Exactly my point. This is my world and I make the rules. Other God's don't have a saying about that either. Even if they don't agree, their opinions hold no value here."
"That sounds hot" you smirked and started laughing.
"You like it when I'm assertive?" He asked.
You nodded.
"I know this might sound selfish but I like how powerful you are. It's surreal to think that a powerful God would fall for me, yet alone be a little whipped too".
"What's that?"
"What's what?"
"A little whipped. What does that mean?"
You started laughing at the boomer side of Hades that you had to get along with, too.
"It's when someone is really into someone. But it's not just a lighthearted crush, you get really soft for that person."
Hades nodded at the explanation.
"Well you can say I'm more than a little whipped then".
You smiled brightly at that response. Some people play hard to get, too self centered or scared to admit someone else has such power over them. But Hades is confident about the way he loves you, not hiding his feelings away, but being open and even proud about it.
"I'm gonna get too spoiled it seems like."
"You will."
"For the time being, let's just sleep together".
Here you go again.
"We will! You have my word".
"Tonight?"
"Tonight".
~~~~~~
The underworld didn't have many servants which was lacking compared to the other kingdoms. However some demi gods stayed with Hades when the world's were sorted and served his majesty. Only one of them was female, Nyx. The goddess of the night graced the kingdom with her beauty and grace and Hades thought you could afford some socializing. She wasn't exactly a servant due to her goddess state, but she was willing to help you out and making your transition to your new home a bit easier.
"What color should I wear?" You asked while looking her way and draping two dresses on you.
"Are you gonna have a meal first?"
You nodded.
"That's what he said. He wants to have a meal and talk a bit first. I don't know why he makes it such a big deal."
Nyx noticed the concern that settled on your forehead by creating a frown, that's why she didn't speak up till you did.
"I know this sounds stupid and I'm sorry if it's too personal, you're the only one I can share it with"
She stood up from the chair and moved closer, already sensing the need for comfort and a quick pick up.
"No, don't worry! You can tell me anything that troubles you and I'm gonna listen".
"Artemis was always telling us to be careful with men because they're...quick to react if you know what I'm saying. She said that they're often ruled by their hormones. That's why I thought Hades would be a bit more...reactive? But he takes it slow, which isn't a bad thing, I just doubt whether he wants me like that too, or it's more of a platonic love? That wouldn't be bad, just unequal because I view him as a man myself".
"I see where you're coming from, but as someone that knows Hades for a long time, I'd say that he is different. Of course I'm sure he feels attracted to you in that sense too, he just needs some time to get to know you a bit better in order to take the next step. It's just his general philosophy, it has nothing to do with you".
You really hoped she was right. She did know him way longer than you do after all. Maybe you should forget about that for now and enjoy the moment.
"Hid favorite color is purple and I'm sure it's gonna look lovely on you. Maybe we should go for that dress, what do you think?"
You looked at her again and slowly nodded, her words waking you up from a train of thoughts and worries. Nyx couldn't see what Hades found in you at first. She used to have feelings for him and tried to make a move but was denied. She doesn't feel anything for him anymore, but the curiosity of who he chose as his partner got under her skin. She can see now what's your appeal, for Hades at least. Innocence. Not a faux one that is used as a foreplay or flirting style, but purity, which is hard to find among immortals. If it was someone else and not Hades, she'd assume the worst, but she does trust him. Even if he hurt her by rejecting her, he wasn't one to manipulate you or anyone really. He just wanted a break from the filthy world.
After getting ready you made your way to the dining room and slowly opened the door. Candlelit room that seemed frozen in time, your movements slower than usual, and shadows dancing with each other.
You saw Hades sitting already at the very far left and you went to sit the opossite way but the table was longer than you'd like.
"Where are you going?" He asked confused.
"That's where queens usually sit" You said with a smile.
"When they are guests over. Now it's just the two of us so you should come closer."
You did as you were told and Hades quickly got your hand in his as you settled down.
"You look so beautiful tonight. I don't think we're gonna sleep much".
You tried to hide your face between your hands because that was very daring for your poor inexperienced heart.
Hades laughed, he liked making you flustered way more than he thought it was possible.
As the dinner was served, you got distracted by the servants and all the plates you saw in front of you, but Hades eyes didn't leave your figure for a second. You had styled your hair in voluminous curls, that emphasized how long they were. Your wrists were adorned with bracelets made of pearls, matching your earrings. The necklace however, was a mixture of pearl and silver details, sparkling ever so slightly by the way you moved your neck to his side. A light lavender fragrance captured his sense of smell, and he was certain you weren't just a nymph, because not even Aphrodite would compare to you.
"That's a lot of food" you spoke up trying to stop the awkward moment of him blatantly staring at you. You weren't used to attention to say the least.
"I wanted you to eat well and gain enough strength for tonight"
Here he goes again.
"Can you stop flirting like that? My poor heart can't handle all that".
"You were more confident when you asked for us to sleep together".
"You're always more confident before and when something is about to happen, reality hits you and you go back to your shell".
"Your shell? Besides being a nymph, are you a mermaid too?"
"I might be. One without a tail though".
"At least you got their beauty".
"You flirt every other sentence now, don't you?"
Hades started laughing because he wasn't even doing it on purpose.
"When I like something I see, I'm honest to a fault".
Good thing the lighting here wasn't that bright and he couldn't see the blush on your cheeks.
"I'm the opossite I think. It's gonna take me some time till I'll start complimenting you."
"I can handle that if you show me your love in other ways".
Is he drunk or what?
"Weren't you the one that said we are going to just sleep tonight?"
"I might have changed my mind. Of course if you want that too".
"I'd like that too. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all".
"We're going to take it slow, my love".
You nodded.
You felt flustered underneath his gaze and took a look at the variety of food the servants bought for your meal.
"OH is this a pomegranate? I love them, they're so tasty!" You exclaimed only to be cut short by Hades.
"Why did they bring pomegranates?" He looked serious and even mad. You were beyond confused.
"There is a special power associated with pomegranates from the underworld, my love. If you eat them while being here, you'd have to stay forever."
"Forever? As in, never leave, ever?"
"Not exactly. You can live for some time but you're gonna be tied to this world. You'll start experiencing discomfort if you're away from here for too long".
"I see. So you don't want me to eat them because you're not ready to be tied to me in that way or you doubt whether I'm ready to commit to such an important decision?"
Hades looked at you and then spoke up.
"The second one".
"Don't question my determination about my will to stay here."
"It's just a big decision and I didn't want you to not be informed. Whether you want to proceed or not."
You thought about it for some time and when you turned around Hades looked at you attentively, ready to hear what you have to say.
"Can you feed it to me?"
Hades lifted his eyebrow, you couldn't ask a better thing.
He got half a piece of the fruit and moved it closer to your mouth. You opened and started eating slowly, but Hades didn't move away even when the fruit was consumed.
"Open up again"
You did as you were told, looking at him surprised but aroused by his dominant side.
He inserted two fingers inside your mouth, and you started sucking on them, enjoying the leftover juice.
"Fuck" He muttered underneath his breath.
Quickly he removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips, kissing you so hungrily you couldn't decide if it was the sweet taste of pomegranate or you that he was lusting after.
His hands cupped your face and they held you there for a minute before you had to break off the kiss in order to catch your breath.
"Should we go to the bedroom?"
"Yes" you answered and stood up, following Hades.
The dinner you just had was held in a room directly next to his bedroom so it didn't take long till you found it. The theme was dark, grey and purple colors adorned the walls and he had a large bed at the center of the room.
"I guess I fit the theme with my choice of attire"
You were hinting to the purple dress you were wearing.
"Nyx told you?" He asked.
You looked at him surprised.
"How do you know?"
"Well...I never saw you wearing purple before you came over to stay so I assumed it wasn't a color you'd prefer. You like lighter tones, right?"
"I do yes"
"Wear them then. Don't change to fit my liking. I like you in pastels too".
You found it really sweet how observant he was and how much he emphasized your individuality.
"Plus you won't be wearing it for too long"
You gasped and your cheeks started blushing.
He chuckled and came closer to hug you and take some of the embarrassment away.
You found refuge in the crook of his neck and tried to hide there from his risky words.
Hades moved his hand underneath your chin and you got the message that he wanted a kiss. Maybe more than that.
Your suspicion was confirmed because the moment your eyes landed on his, he went for a second kiss that took your heart away. It was messy, like the one you shared before, but it felt do good, your stomach was doing flips uncontrollably.
His mouth moved lower, and you turned your neck to allow him to kiss you properly. His kisses turned more aggressive and he started sucking on the delicate skin, surely about to leave marks there. Marks you'd show off proudly to the world. You were his now.
His hands started exploring your body as well and they moved higher to grope your breasts, gently but hungrily at the same time. His large hands on you had a fire lit within you in no time.
"Do you wanna touch me too, love?"
You did. But the sensation he bought you so far felt incredible and you were frozen still for a bit.
You nodded and he got your hands and placed them on his waist.
"Just touch me wherever you want".
That was easier said than done. You already felt nervous to do much but the overwhelming desire made you forget about it for a moment.
His body felt firm and toned against you and his tiny waist made his godly shoulders appear even broader. Underneath the soft clothes he was wearing, muscles contrasted.
He broke the make out session for a bit and took off his clothes fast before he came back to you. You, however, wanted to take a better look, which felt very embarrassing when he saw you ogling his physique like that.
"Like what you see?" He smiled proudly, loving the effect he had on you.
"I do. Now I see where the saying looking like a Greek God comes from"
He started laughing and kissed your forehead. His signature move by now.
"Happy you do."
His hard dick was poking against your dress by now, out and proud and you really wanted to touch him but you weren't sure what to do to make him feel nice.
"You can touch me wherever you want, remember?"
Was he reading your mind? Maybe your hesitation was written all over your face.
"Can you guide me?"
Oh shit. You were killing him.
"Start by stroking me slowly and focus mostly on the tip".
You did as you were told, feeling extremely aroused already.
Your small hand made him look even larger and he was about to cum faster than he'd like to admit. Just you being there, was the biggest turn on to him.
You stopped stroking him all the way down and decide to mostly focus on the tip, applying pressure over the slit which made him hiss.
"I'm sorry" you apologized thinking you were doing something wrong. More like doing something incredibly well.
"No don't apologize. You did so well in fact I might cum earlier than I should. Let's take it to the bed".
He started kissing you again and slowly removed your dress which made you shiver a bit by the sudden temperature change.
Hades was staring really hard, which made you insecure since you assumed the worst.
"You are beautiful, love".
You gave him a reassuring smile and went to lay down on the bed.
"Open up your legs for me, sweetheart".
You did as you were told and he put his fingers between them, playing with your clit and spreading the wetness. When he thought you were wet enough, he inserted a finger inside you.
"Does it hurt?" He asked while looking so attentively.
"Only a tiny bit" You reassured him.
The sensation felt like burning pressure which was more uncomfortable than painful, but at the same time you were craving every little more of his hands against your heat.
"My baby's so tight. How can I fit properly mmm?"
You moaned at that. Simple ass words made you moan out loud because you loved the idea of being so much smaller than him.
"Please I want more"
"More?"
"I want you to take me...properly now".
"No more fingers?"
You nodded and your eyes had such a pleading look which worked wonders for Hades. He loved how easily submissive you were for him. Letting him have his way with you and trusting him completely.
He pumped his dick a bit and moved closer to your aching hole, carefully opening your legs further.
"Ready?"
"Yes"
He put the head first and teased the area by sliding it up and down to further turn you on. As if that was possible. You were beyond wet at this point.
Little by little he entered you and stopped almost halfway when he heard your sigh.
"Painful?"
"A bit."
"The more you'll relax, the easier it will be"
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes because naked, muscular and sweaty Hades didn't really help at keeping you 'relaxed'.
He put his hand on your clit, slowly drawing circles to ease your pain with pleasure. After he saw your breathing slowing down some more, he moved in a bit further till he was fully inside you.
You opened your eyes to see his face inches away from yours, looking at you with all the care in the world.
"Does it hurt now?"
"It's better now"
You engulfed him in a hug which pushed him even further in, causing you two to moan in synchrony.
"You feel amazing. I've never felt like that with another woman before".
This was supposed to be a compliment but your imaginative mind thought of Hades fucking someone else and the green monster of jealousy possessed you.
As if he could read your mind, he knew exactly what to say.
"I am yours now though"
You smiled so brightly at that. You wanted to be his one and only till the end of time. Maybe even after that. For sure, even after that.
"I love hearing that"
"I know that you do. We aren't that different after all".
Your hips started moving on their own, which bought Hades to the present and he started moving his hips, slowly thrusting into you.
You could literally see veins popping around his forehead, he was really holding back.
"You can fuck me faster if you want"
"OH I definitely want that, but I shouldn't. It's gonna hurt tomorrow to begin with, let's not make it any worse."
"Okay but next time we can try a different position too"
"We will. Let's take it slow"
You nodded and moved your hands lower to cup his butt.
"Daring, aren't we?" He started teasing you.
"You're balls deep inside me, I don't think it's time to be all shy with you".
"That's my girl".
Hades moved a bit faster to grant your wish, but not too hard or as fast as he'd wish for.
You started feeling an overwhelming positive feeling which you've never experienced before but it was almost addicting.
"Hades..."
"I know, love. Let it go"
You let your body relax some more and his hand traveled between you to tease your clit once again.
Not long after, you came undone, experiencing the best sensation you've ever felt, tightening around his dick, making him cum too right after you.
You were breathing hard but remained connected till you collected yourselves again.
"All good?" He asked.
"All perfect" You smiled at him.
He placed a kiss on your forehead and slowly removed himself.
He laid down next to you and gestured for you to cuddle him.
"I...feel sticky." You said embarrassed.
"I'll clean you up in a bit"
"You're so caring and loving"
"Anything for you, my love"
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santanarohana · 5 months
Text
A heart that bleeds ink (bleeds lives)
(I don't know English, so anything sounding strange is Google Translate's fault) I want to get worse. I saw a post, at some point, of a collage made with a painting and the faces of Danny, Dani, Dan and even Vlad, saying something about Clockwork having commissioned a painting and such, and that causing confusion, giving the impression of a Targaryen type case going on there. If anyone recognizes it, let me know, I want to read it again. Either way, it got the hamster wheel in my head spinning. Raise your hand if you've watched Barbie Rapunzel. Anyone who watched it, or has even a vague knowledge of it, probably knows about the magic brush she used to paint landscapes that acted as portals to different places. Well, I say that the Infinite Realms have ectopaint, which absorbs the emotion the painter is feeling and translates it into a painting. Because you are translating impressions and feelings rather than an exact memory, there is some artistic freedom in interpreting the paint itself and how you decide to express that on canvas. Which can lead to some unusual and confusing scenes, case in point, Dora introduces Danny to her art studio and encourages him to paint as an outlet and also as a way of dealing with his traumas and unprocessed feelings. So he gives it a chance. He pours his feelings about Vlad, Dan, Ellie, the failed clones, even his newfound promotion to royalty, into the paint, and then watches as the brush transfers that mess to the canvas. This results in a picture that puts him on the verge of hysterical laughter, or a complete emotional breakdown.
There's Danny, in the dead center of the frame, or he assumes it's Danny, sitting on something he can't see because of the fullness of her skirts. Yes, skirts, because he is wearing what appears to be a dress, white, voluminous, with lots of ruffles and lace. A waist too small to not be cinched into a corset, ruffles at the neckline giving the illusion of a bust, and shoulders exposed due to dropped sleeves. Numerous necklaces adorned the expanse of her slender neck, effectively covering her Adam's apple with pearls and a teardrop-shaped diamond, almost as large as her thumb, hanging down to rest in the space between her collarbones. His hair is much longer and twisted into a hairstyle so elaborate that his scalp aches in sympathy, a diamond-studded crown sitting on top. Danny looks otherworldly, unreal, in the frame. Also uncomfortable and confined, green eyes suspicious, desperate, as they looked to one side of the painting, to where Vlad was depicted, his red eyes very satisfied, expression like a cat that ate the canary, full of pride, arrogance and a sense of very familiar possession. Between Danny and Vlad stands a child, a boy, maybe ten years old, red eyes familiar and venomous as they look at Vlad and his matching red eyes, it's Dan. One of Vlad's hands rests on one of his bony shoulders, too small for his weight. that seems to rest there, and Danny's free hand grabs his opposite sleeve, closest to him, fingers gripping in a white, desperate grip, wanting and failing to completely remove him from Vlad's grasp. On the opposite side of Danny, where there is no Vlad or Dan, is a little girl, with his eyes and hair, who can only be Ellie. So small, how old is she there? Her hair is twisted into a much simpler version of Danny's hairstyle, half tied into a crown of braids adorned with diamond-headed hairpins, half falling loosely down her back, her small body tucked into a lacy white dress. Between Danny and Tiny-Ellie, half hidden by their skirts so that only one of their eyes is visible, is what looks like a much smaller version of Danny, the same coloring, the same familiar face, and a tightness in her stomach. identifies him as his smaller clone, if he looked like a child slightly younger than Tiny-Ellie. A little in front of Tiny-Ellie, looking a little older than her, was another boy, with the same green eyes as Danny, but black hair, and a skin tone closer to Vlad's blue than his olive green. Danny, that had to be his muscular clone. At Danny's feet was a baby, old enough to sit up on its own, maybe even crawl, but hardly walk. His hair was white, his eyes were red, and his skin was as clear as milk. He looked albino, like those rabbits with white fur and red eyes, and Danny knew exactly who he was supposed to represent. The clone with the sheet.
There was a bundle of cloth in the crook of Danny's arm, with a tiny face peering out, a newborn baby, small enough to be quite possibly premature, strands of white hair peeking out from under the cap pulled over its tiny head, green eyes squinted. The Prime clone, Daniel. There was someone positioned behind Danny, hands resting on his bare shoulders, not possessively, but protectively. He looked like how Danny looked when he was Phantom, and at the same time he didn't. There was a distinct sense of otherness, of foreignness, that let Danny know it wasn't him, despite the shared resemblance. It wasn't just the breadth of his shoulders, the superior height or the abundance of muscles, while Danny was still a stick in both ways. Nor were his eyes, one familiar green, the other purple. A familiar stranger, and as Danny tried to figure out who it could be, he felt, hands resting on his hazmat-covered shoulders, familiar and foreign, and looking back he found the same figure depicted in the painting. A shared look, of understanding and recognition, and Danny knew who it was. A representation of the Ghost Zone, who he had been inadvertently linked to since a portal to another dimension opened upon him.
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friendlylocalwhumper · 2 months
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Hey there whump-fellow! I was wondering if you might help me out a bit. I'm writing an original superhero story for Camp NaNo this year and I want the main character's superpower to come with whumpy side-effects, but I am having a hard time coming up with anything even slightly original in that regard. Do you have any suggestions or examples I might play off of? Also, I am going to ask around to a few whump blogs to cast a wider net! Any suggestions as to whom I should ask?
Telekinesis/mind reading with a side effect of migraines. Agony, sensitivity to light/noise. Days-long pain after just using their powers once, which causes the pavlovian response of an awful headache starting up just at the thought of using their powers.
Fire powers that leave burns, thick scars that hurt less and less the more the powers are used but the nerves die more and more, meaning that the whumpee loses feeling in their fingers, then hands, then arms. They will miss out on feeling gentle breezes, soft blankets, holding hands with a friend.
Ice powers that cause frostbite. They can put out a fire, stop an enemy instantly, catch someone who is falling before they die… but the pain afterward is intense, and they always have to weigh the benefits of saving lives versus potentially losing a part of their own body. Or their powers give frostbite to anyone that the ice touches!
Invincibility that lasts for as long as it’s being used, but after the battle is over, in safety, all the damage hits at once. Bruises bloom in purples and blues, cuts spring forth and leave the whumpee scrambling to apply pressure and soak up too much blood before they pass out.
Invisibility/phasing that is strategically useful because the whumpee can sneak or pass through obstacles, but it makes their body have too loose a grasp on reality and their loved ones lose memories of them. They may be able to sneak into a dangerous place and get out unharmed, but their mother or partner will now struggle to recall their name.
A superpower that was desperately wished for in an hour of need, but now every time that it’s used, something precious has to be sacrificed. For the power to be used, an hierloom has to be chosen to disappear from existence, or a limb has to be chosen to never work without pain again, or a comforting memory has to be forgotten. Eventually this would leave the whumpee tougher, less sensitive to loss, but they would also have so much less comfort to come home to. This power would work great as a “gift” from a deity, fae, supernatural creature, or a naively summoned ghost.
Villain-turned-hero who used to use their powers for evil, but now that they are fighting for good, their powers keep trying to turn on them. They used to melt guards’ weapons and locks off vaults, but now that they try to melt doors shut to keep out storms or villains, the molten metal sputters and hits their skin. Or they used to make their nemesis’ armor, tools, or on their most evil day, that nemesis’ most cherished friend disappear; but now after a long hard day of protecting people, when they come home, they find that their partner is missing. They find that their car keys are gone, their fridge, their shoes. Sometimes it is a small thing they won’t even miss, and sometimes it is something so devastating to lose that they fall to their knees and sob.
The superpower of being able to compel that the truth be given after they ask a question. Very useful for a detective, a hero in a corrupt society littered with propaganda, a spy trying to work their way up in an evil organization. But if they ask a question that someone doesn’t know the answer to, it can drive that person mad. If they ask a question someone would rather die than answer, they will give the truth but then be emotionally broken from admitting that aloud. If that person would rather kill than answer…
Any power which has no direct side effects immediately after use, but which is forbidden or horrifying for some reason. Maybe it is the power to bring the dead back to life for just long enough to answer questions, which is morally complicated. Maybe it’s the power to cause intense agony without leaving physical marks. Maybe it’s the ability to travel through time, which causes alternate universes to sprout up and can cause mass deaths, confusion, or chaos in the future. Whatever the power is, it has to be used for some reason, and hiding its use and its consequences leaves the hero afraid, unable to trust anyone, and devastatingly ashamed. This could lead to angsty confessions, betrayal, abandonment, a public execution, banishment, etc.
A very subtle, pleasant power that is embarassingly weak in a time when more power is needed. the ability to numb pain, which feels useless during war when people are bleeding out and losing friends. the ability to see the future in a time when everyone knows what the horrifying outcome will be and no one can stop it. the ability to stop time, but not to move or change what is happening, which just leaves the hero stuck to think, to rely on their own mind to try to solve a terrible problem while seeing everyone frozen in a moment of pain or fear.
I’m not sure about other whump blogs you could ask, but anyone who sees this post is totally welcome to add ideas! The side effects of the superpower don’t have to be direct or ironic, so any random idea could be perfect for the story! No idea is bad!
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radley-writes · 1 year
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Different anon here. Been suffering a pretty significant depression slump that magnified tenfold after a pretty devastating breakup.. my main WIPs were romances but now the idea of romantic love makes me want to puke from the anxiety. It's been almost half a year now, and I feel like I'm in a constant state of mourning, a ghost of myself. Will I ever be able to write again..?
Oh, nonnie. You've really been through it. Come walk with me to the river, okay?
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[image description: a sunlit field, lined with trees, and a pale blue winter sky above]
It's a lovely sunny (if FREEZING) day, so you'll need a coat and a sunhat!
Here we go...
You've been through something horrible, which has tarnished your love for your favourite genre. I'm so sorry that the breakdown of your relationship took writing romance from you. That sounds incredibly difficult, and to grieve that loss is understandable.
Let's head down through the farmland, along the muddy tracks pitted with the hoof prints of wild deer...
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[ID: a dirt road leading between two thin lines of trees, with green fields on either side]
As far as I see it, three options lie before you.
1) push through the anxiety and force yourself back into writing what you used to love, risking making yourself hate it even more and causing yourself psychological damage in the process.
2) abandon the idea of writing romance entirely and focus on something new - which means letting go of something you still care deeply for, and many memories you cherish.
3) wait to heal and hope time will resolve your lingering trauma around romance - but you don’t know how long this will take, or even if it will work at all.
.... We're gonna have to take a detour because the rich city slicker bastards are out shooting birds for 'sport' again 🙃. Scuse me...
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[ID: A copse of spindly birch trees, leafless in winter. ]
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[ID: A fallow field with a green field behind it. The green field is dotted with numerous white fabric flags.]
Back onto a new path! And look at all the flags on that one field.... Fuck any geese who land THERE in particular, huh?
Any one of those options might work for different people! However, I suspect you’re aware of these choices, and for whatever reason, they aren’t working for you.
I can't give you a perfect answer. I can't even promise that you will write romance again. But if you’re ready, I can give you a few ideas that invoke elements of Option 1, 2 and 3, which might help with the healing process.
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[ID: A path along the edge of a field, leading into a group of trees. A river is visible beyond it.]
Sometimes, we start to resent ourselves when we can no longer do something from which we used to extract joy - be this for any reason, trauma, physical disability, end of a hyperfixation, etc. If this is the case, holding tightly onto the past may not be in your best interest.
If the mere idea of writing romance brings you no joy and satisfaction, only repulsion and misery... If you are clinging on to your desire to write romance out of a need to prove that you are the same person you were before you went through this, and that what you suffered did not effect you... it might be best for you to cut that desire loose.
There are so many creative outlets out there. Something else will call to you. You could try to - very slowly and gently - broaden your reading horizons, and write something completely devoid of romance. You could dabble in different hobbies and turn your focus to alternate means of creativity, from dance to cooking to pottery.
And if you sample many different dishes and none of them appeal... There's a fair chance that, by the time you reach that point, you might have put enough time and distance between yourself and the disintegration of this relationship, that writing romance no longer feels like stabbing yourself repeatedly in the chest.
It might still hurt, but it’ll be more like grasping a thorn. A small, sharp pain, but one that isn't going to tear you all the way open.
We're almost there!
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[ID: A muddy path through leafless, ivy-wrapped winter trees. A river is just visible between them]
It’s alright to change. It’s alright to let trauma and loss shape us, so long as we don’t let it ruin our lives and the lives of people around us.
We're here! Let's sit down for a bit.
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[ID: Half of a simple wooden bench, on a grassy bank, pointing away from the camera.]
I want you to sit quietly for a while. Think about what I’ve said, and ask yourself, truly, if pursuing becoming a romance writer again is the best course for you.
If it is - or if you are unsure, but still want to try - let's focus on trying to help you reclaim that part of yourself that you used to love.
Does reading romance also give you panic attacks? How about novels that include romance, but focus their plot in a different direction? Sit down with a fantasy book that has a minor background romance - I can give you some reccs, if you want! See how you feel.
Is there a show you really love, and some characters whose relationship you're invested in? Do those characters feel sufficiently distant from your situation? If so, could you write a few short snippets of fanfic. You don't have to publish them - but if I'm in a slump, writing fanfic often feels far less personal than writing about my own OCs. That might help you rediscover your affection for the romance genre, without cutting out your own heart and slapping it on the page.
Alternatively, could you write a platonic romance? By which I mean, for writing practice, try to incorporate all the 'beats' of a romance book, but focus on a different type of love - that between friends, or siblings, or even a parent and a child. Again, this might help you access the emotional ups and lows of a romance novel and help you hone your writing skills, while avoiding the core issue of a romantic relationship.
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[ID: a river meanders over a flat countryside, reflecting the blue cloudy sky]
Here's our river, winding away. I hope that no matter what you choose to do, you take good care of yourself.
You will find creative joy again, somewhere, even if it's not in the same way you're used to. Of that much, I'm certain. X
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meat-wentz · 7 months
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ok so my sexuality-based analysis of Jennifer's body effectively boils down to Jennifer controls all sex and sexuality that she is even tangentially around, which, prior to The Event, I believe can be interpreted as both genuine sexual desire but also a wish to grow up quickly, be taken seriously, and/or gain power. Post-Event, it's quite obviously a reclamation of autonomy and control, although it also does leave room for her own desire (see: kissing Needy)
Needy's sexuality, on the other hand, is almost entirely under Jennifer's control or influence. In the instances where she attempts/has sex with Chip, Jennifer's presence interferes and the encounter ends with Needy leaving for Jennifer. Same thing with most of the kisses. Hell, Jennifer dictates how much of Needy's body she can show.
(I am So sorry, i don't remember who holds whose hand first in the bar scene, but if I did I would put that in here)
And the kiss between them, Jennifer wants it so she takes it, and once Jennifer's given her the okay, Needy is in the clear to kiss her back? Cause otherwise, she would have just continued to keep it bottled up, as usual. Because maybe she can kiss Chip on her own, but not Jennifer. that has to be given, not taken.
I'm sure none of this is new analysis or anything but it just leapt out at me so obviously with the first watch. Teenage girlhood and overreaching and smothering and the cooler friend whose consent you need for everything and her manicured fingers reach into every corner of your life. Trying to learn who you are. Coming out the other end with some of her fucked-up self in you, because there's no getting out of that unscathed.
And, on Jennifer's end (which I'll admit I understand less but I want to give her her due as well), feeling so horribly out of control, eaten up from the inside that you have to stake down every loose thing around you cause you just do. cause you'll be damned if you let yourself get burned that bad a second time, plus it feels good to be the center of someone's world. Getting away from yourself. Not caring enough to stop. Needing to be Stopped, and even then there's a vengeful shadow that keeps going long after you're through.
THIS MOVIE I UNDERSTAND YOUR OBSESSION
(also I'm sorry if my analysis is bad I'm not very good at media, this is just my vibes. also I was tired when I watched it so I might not remember everything perfectly)
you're so right and you should say it!!! like this movie is so rich in nutrients, there's so much to take in. like there's something about your best friend when you're in high school, there's something there where, yeah you have a romantic relationship, but nothing is as strong or as meaningful as the obsession you have with your best friend. in the script, needy says "i've always been able to feel what she feels, just not like this," and i think that's such a perfect encapsulation of what it's like, you've been attached at the hip for so long that you're vulnerable to the sensations of being the same person, and the pain of severing that bond in order to become your own person because as long as you remain together, you're under threat of being swallowed whole, completely devoured, overtaken, and the rotten gore of having to rip yourself away from them.
there's a possessiveness in jennifer that's so relatable in its specific type of toxicity, the desperate grasping attempt to hold onto the one person in her life that makes her feel not only understood, but in control. to the point that she would literally slaughter those around her to keep her dependent on her, no more colin, no more chip, only jennifer. it's the way girls are put in competition with one another, it's that desirability is threatening, sexuality is threatening, a girl in control of her own body is threatening, how terrifying it is to be in competition with the person you love the most, how terrifying it is to be the singular object of her affection. you've always been dazzled by her, you've always loved her, and that terrifies you more than anything once you realize she hasn't "changed," she's always been like this, she's always kept you close because you make her feel in control, superior, powerful, she wants to be your everything because it means she'll never be left alone, she wants to be your everything because you make her feel like she's everything.
like this movie is literally so genius because it speaks to that type of relationship so strongly, the mortal obsession with your best friend, the way you two would tear each other apart, the way you two would blur the lines of that relationship because nothing feels more potent than this, than you two, in your room, stuck together with all the pain you've dealt upon one another, the way you two would blur the lines of each other, becoming one another, the taking the taking the taking, give me everything you have to give, be my everything and let me be yours. it's layers upon layers of teenage girldom and teenage girl politics and the way teenage girls love like they could tear the whole world apart. boys are just morsels, but you, you're everything to me.
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drabbles-mc · 6 months
Text
Four People You Meet
Horacio Carrillo x Juliana Carrillo Horacio Carrillo & Hugo Martinez
For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of Tough Shit: write a fic with a word count evenly divisible by 500
Warnings: 18+, angst, hospitals
Word Count: 500
A/N: WE DID IT! We wrote a fic that's an even 500 words!!! It was looking dicey for a moment there, I won't lie 😂 I got hit with this idea on my drive into work this morning and I just had to get it down on paper. This is lowkey a fix-it fic?? But it's still sad. Idk if that's a genre of fix-it or not lmao.
Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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The first person he saw when he came to was Juliana. Her chair was pulled right up beside his hospital bed, and she was slumped forward so she was using the mattress nearly as much as he was. He took a few slow, labored breaths before managing to lift his hand and set it on her shoulder.
The gesture woke her up immediately as she shot upright, gasping. The quick motion caused his hand to fall from her shoulder to the bed. Tears instantly welled in her eyes when she saw that he was really awake, although he could tell by the look on her face that the tears probably hadn’t subsided since she found out what happened.
She wanted to hold him, crawl onto the bed and wrap him up so nothing would ever be able to get to him again, but she didn’t, couldn’t. Instead, she grasped tightly onto his hand and pressed her lips to his knuckles.
“Thank god,” she whispered weakly.
He wasn’t able to move much, or speak very well, but he still managed to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you.” Maybe it was something he should’ve made more of a habit of saying before all of this, but late was better than never.
She smiled, leaning in and pressing a ghost of a kiss to the side of his forehead. “I love you too.”
The second person he saw was his doctor, who made no qualms about letting Carrillo know that he had skirted impossibly close to death and yet still managed to come back somehow. It was almost comforting.
The third person was Trujillo. Juliana did him the service of calling him to share the news that Horacio had woken up. She owed him that, she told her husband, since she had sent him home from the vigil he’d been holding since he was brought to the hospital. Carrillo was convinced that Trujillo wasn’t going to leave his bedside until he was cut loose from the hospital.
He probably would have, too, if the fourth person to see Carrillo was anyone other than Colonel Martinez.
A hush fell over the room when they all saw the man standing in the doorway. Everyone, including Martinez, was looking to Carrillo to see what the next move should be. Finally, he squeezed his wife’s hand before nodding towards the door to dismiss both her and Trujillo.
“It’s alright.”
Martinez closed the door behind them once they left, taking slow steps toward the bed until he was sitting in Juliana’s chair. Hands in his lap, he finally spoke up. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“Hugo—”
“But you shouldn’t be,” he continued on. “After everything you…” he shook his head. Clearing his throat, he went from conflicted back to professional. “I felt I owed it to you to make sure you heard it from me: You’re stepping down, and I’ll be taking over Search Bloc, effective immediately.” He stood up to leave. “Stay well, Horacio.”
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wolfgeralt · 1 year
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The White Rose
Pairing: Emhyr var Emreis/Geralt of Rivia
Summary: Geralt notices an unfamiliar flower growing in Corvo Bianco's greenhouse.
Word count: 1,389 Rating: T Notes: Another short fic inspired by @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingommer-bingo and @continentcakeshopntcakeshop's Valentine's Rarepair Bingo Fulfilling the prompts: "Reminds me of you" and "Touching their lips/mouth because they’re so soft".
Enormous thanks to @antimonyschnuckk and @witch-and-her-witcher for the wonderful job beta reading these works!
Link to AO3 in the title, or continued below.
The greenhouse stood elevated high in the grounds of Corvo Bianco, a perfect suntrap where herbs and flowers which drank in the sun greedily could thrive. The occasional fat, meandering bumblebee or the flamboyant flickering of vibrant butterfly wings graced each flower head often. As the wind coursed down through the Sansretour Valley and rose to Corvo Bianco as a gentle breeze, it alleviated the worst of the sticky heat and caused the greenery to rustle where it grew up in thick bunches, tickling at the ostentatious flower heads.
Fortunately, the lime cement repair had been completed during the renovations earlier in the year, the brickwork perfectly stable once more thanks to Barnabas-Basil, and supporting itself as the plants grew taller, stronger. Which was especially lucky as much of one wall had something rambling and crawling its way upward. The plant was leafy and green overall, thorn-prickled, but topped with heavily scented, white flower heads.
Geralt reached out for one of the mysterious flowers, turned its white petals towards him, nose wrinkling as he sniffed at the air to inspect it. He was unfamiliar with it, but he had his suspicions by its natural perfume and barbs alone.
“It’s a rose, love,” drawled Emhyr, confirming Geralt’s unspoken thoughts and smoothing the frown from his brow.
The former emperor had appeared framed underneath one of the brick arches, lazily gliding through in a lightweight black robe with fine, golden embroidery. The garment had slipped open wider across Emhyr’s bare chest, plunging generously deep and wide, while it was tied tightly at his waist. The whole effect was enough to pull Geralt’s attention entirely away from the garden, his mind turning towards better plans for his afternoon.
“Well, hello there,” Geralt purred, grinning as he reached for Emhyr’s hips. They greeted one another with a short kiss, kept brief by Emhyr, even as Geralt tried to chase more. Emhyr brushed him off, despite each hand being full with a green-tinted glass, filled with a generous portion of their own Sepremento.
“Here.” Emhyr pressed one glass into Geralt’s hand and drank a mouthful of his own as he stepped out of his husband’s grasp and strolled towards the next rosebush climbing the brickwork.
Geralt lamented a lost opportunity but was painfully aware how Emhyr enjoyed working him up throughout the day in small increments until he was near desperate for his partner. Truthfully, Emhyr required very little effort to stir him. Geralt took a deep swig of wine and followed Emhyr back to the roses.
“Strangest rose I’ve ever seen.” Geralt frowned, dropping his head to watch as Emhyr cupped one, leant in close to breathe in its heady scent. It was muskier to Geralt’s nose, something darker about it, but it was rose-adjacent.
“These roses grow exclusively in Toussaint where the soil is fertile enough. That is usually where vineyards have already been established.” Emhyr made a loose gesture towards the landscape beyond. “The groundwater in this spot must be adequate.” He then waved towards the stream which cut through the estate, beyond view but its trickling and sloshing audible to them both.
“They have a preference for a combination of sun and shade,” Emhyr explained as he pressed a palm to the brickwork, which faced away from the sun at its height, assessing his calculations were correct. Geralt watched Emhyr’s actions with a small smile, sensing his husband’s broad gestures were influenced by him having had a glass of wine already.
“They are exceptionally rare and sought after. The Duchess herself desired them at her wedding, but not a single bloom could be found that year. She was furious.” His mouth twitched up at the corner in a harmlessly wicked way which Geralt found most attractive on him.
Geralt hummed, interested but increasingly less so in the roses. He took a swig of their wine, curling his tongue around the taste of tart, spiced fruit, all the while wishing he was tasting it on Emhyr’s tongue instead.
Despite his mind moving from the garden, Geralt watched as Emhyr’s long fingers slipped behind the head of one rose to cup it oh so delicately. He held the rose there a long moment, admiring it silently, while Geralt gazed at the gentleness on the former emperor’s face in wonder. He realised how much younger and peaceful Emhyr looked for having moved to Toussaint, how open and vulnerable he looked in his slightly creased silk gown, with that hint of a smile on his lips, and the slow sigh of satisfaction he found in a rose.
Geralt swallowed and took a few steps closer, sliding a hand across the small of Emhyr’s back, wanting to be in contact with him as if to prove the moment was real.
How he had grown to love Emhyr so completely was dizzying.
“I thought you would know your roses. Your knowledge on flora is impeccable- or so I thought.” Emhyr turned and pushed his wineglass into Geralt’s hand.
With that, Emhyr crouched down, with a flash of a bare thigh to stir Geralt’s indecent thoughts again. Unfortunately for Geralt, Emhyr was merely retrieving the short knife tucked into the witcher’s boot. Emhyr spun as he stood up and clipped one rose from the bush with a swift flick of the knife.
“This particular rose,” he spun the stem between his fingers, showing the beautiful, delicate petals off to him. “Reminds me of you, actually.”
Geralt stared at his husband, dumbfounded, but a smile spread across his face.
“Snow white, heart of gold, beautiful, surprisingly sensitive… and a pleasantly musky scent I rather enjoy on myself.” Emhyr drew Geralt’s attention back down to the rose, spinning it on its stem between nimble fingertips.
A simple structure of fewer, wider petals, unlike the frilly roses Geralt was accustomed to seeing surrounded a warm yellow sun at its heart. It looked fragile and too pretty to be compared to a witcher, and Geralt felt flustered at the comparison. He gulped at his wine, feeling hot under Emhyr’s intense, amber gaze.
“Not sure about the heart of gold. Or ‘beautiful’.” Geralt made a face.
“Nonsense. I won’t have you bad mouth my husband,” Emhyr scolded him playfully, taking the rose and drawing the silky petals featherlight across Geralt’s lips agonisingly gently, making them tingle pleasantly. “You are so… very… beautiful.”
Emhyr dragged the rose downward to slip from Geralt’s lips. With a lopsided, tipsy sort of smile, Emhyr tucked the flower into Geralt’s hair just above his ear. Content with the result, Emhyr skimmed his fingertips and thumb fleetingly over Geralt’s already sensitive lips, leaving him aching for another kiss, which he leant closer in hope of.
“Emhyr,” he rumbled, but met the barest resistance of Emhyr holding his face in one hand, catching his attention right before Geralt tipped the glasses and almost spilt their wine on the ground. His near bumble made Emhyr grin in success for but a moment.
“I’m going to read my book on the porch and have another glass of wine. Come find me once you’ve finished gardening,” Emhyr instructed as he took back his glass, replacing it with the borrowed knife from Geralt’s boot. “And cut me a few roses for that antique vase we bought from Borsodi, will you, dear?”
“You could read later,” Geralt suggested in vain, while shoving the knife back into its sheath in his boot.
“I would prefer to finish reading, then focus my undivided attention on you.”
A hand placed to Geralt’s chest, Emhyr leant close so they could share a languid, smouldering kiss, broken when Emhyr had the indecency to smirk as he pulled away. Geralt kept one arm curled around Emhyr for a moment, hand gliding over silk to feel every perfect groove of his lover’s strong figure.
“White rose petals won’t stain the bedsheets like red roses do.” Emhyr patted Geralt on the chest and then breezed past him, calling out as he went: “Just a thought.”
Which meant Emhyr was expecting rose petals, candlelight, and seduction.
Geralt was more than up for the task. He watched Emhyr gliding back towards the house longingly until he was out of sight. Throwing back the remaining wine in his glass to fuel him on, Geralt rolled up his sleeves and set about picking roses.
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dxmoness · 8 months
Text
─────── EFFECTS. . .
‣ the thorned mistress . 004
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The five year-old pried open the lock of her room as she reached for it, twisting the knob clumsily. It gave way and the door slid open, no noise because it had just been oiled up.
Her purple eyes scan the area while her ears remain alert. She needed to be discreet. She wandered the castle in search of sweets to consume.
Suddenly a hushed and muffled conversation catches her attention. She froze at the voices. They were far but she didn't appreciate the sound of any voices, especially not now.
She quietly pads to the door and listens closely. The vast size of the portal in front of her was undeniably big as compared to her own size. She remains quiet as she listens in on whoever is talking on the other side.
"You've finished the…thing you were told to finish, correct?" An unfamiliar voice comes to contact with her ever sensitive ears. Her purple eyes remain on the lookout for any shadows that could be lurking in the dim hallways.
"Yes, the spell has been casted. It will only take a matter of time before it takes effect." This voice! It was familiar and she knew exactly who it belonged to.
Alexios. Alexios is her knight, the bodyguard assigned to her by her father. Someone who she trusted with her soul. It was not a surprise she knows his voice all too well.
Now she was contemplating if she'd dare enter the place. Alexios is there, but her mother always cautioned her when she heard an unfamiliar voice in the halls.
Should she dare enter despite the fact? No, she didn't. She would rather just listen and listen she did.
The voices were hushed now, it seemed she missed a bit of the conversation. She pressed her ear against the door now, her cheek feeling the cold hard wood that made up the door.
"It won't take long before the throne will be ours now. Those two are foolish enough to assume that their actions remain with no effects on their life anymore." The unfamiliar voice continues to rant about something she couldn't quite grasp on.
Was there a dangerous criminal on the loose? Or perhaps a demon running around and causing misery? She was dying to know as she continued on to listen.
"And you said they are trying to have another child?" The unfamiliar voice continues on to ask.
"Yes, it's true." Alexios is quick to answer this question.
"How disappointing." She could hear the unfamiliar man mutter. There is a movement as the faint glow of the candlelight comes close to the door, seeping from a small space underneath the door.
This is when her heart picks up a pace. She is in panic. Were they coming out? She had to hide!
The door swings open and the two men come out. The first one was a man with golden eyes and long silky black hair. He had a very serious and cold expression on his face not to mention the intimidating aura he emitted. The second was the red haired knight Alexios, he stood and looked around silently while his black haired companion left quickly.
After a few minutes of seemingly staring at nothing, the knight left as well. Leaving a silence to reign in the hallways.
A creak of the cabinet tears this silent barrier. Out comes, the shaken Sorana who was too frightened to make any other word. She looks around again, ensuring the knight and the mysterious individual were gone before she rushed.
She heads to her parents' bedroom. She panickingly twisted the knob as she entered. Her mother was already under the covers, fast asleep. Her father was still awake, his blue eyes stare blankly at the open book on his lap. The yellow-orange glow of the candlelight illuminates his most charming features. At the sound of the door, he looks up to see Sorana entering and attempting to climb on the bed in which she's failing to do.
He should be mad but he only chuckles as he scooped her up. "What are you doing here, dear?" He whispered, making sure he was quiet. Yashira was asleep after all.
"Hungry…" She whispered back, understanding why her father wanted things to be kept quiet.
Roman nodded as he carried her and both went to the kitchen where he placed her down on the counter. He then cuts up an apple into bite size slices.
"Here." Now the two take their time munching on the apples. Bonding moments are rare between the father and daughter, but Sorana wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.
Now it was two weeks later, she had forgotten about the conversation she had overheard before.
She is by the lake, picking flowers. The maids were around her, they were whispering and gossiping as usual. It did not bother her, it is normal for her to hear them. They always do this, she already knew they were talking about her.
She is about to stand up when hands shove her forward, tumbling into the cold water of the lake. She kicks her feet frantically, her purple eyes could make out the sight.
The maids were laughing, giggling even. The one who had pushed her was none other than Alexios.
Betrayal. That's what she felt. She was starting to get tired. Her screams pierce the quiet atmosphere of the gardens, causing the brothers who had been playing run to the lake.
Immediately, everyone died down to a silent crowd. Alpha strides over quickly. His red eyes scan the lake for their sister.
Bravo was first to dive in, not bothering to take anything off his body. He swam and minutes later, came up to the surface with their sister.
It was now that Kaisu was scolding the servants around them. The sounds of Cable's hoarse shouting was enough for the servants to get the picture. They were getting fired.
Sorana woke up, still clutching the flowers in her hand. "Brother…" she whispered, Bravo kissed her forehead. "You're alright." It wasn't a question, it was a firm statement. She is alright.
"They're no longer pretty…" She said with a tone of sadness. She is talking about the flowers that she clenched tightly between her fingers. "I was going to give them to Mother…"
"It's alright. Let's go get better ones, okay?" Alpha assured her as he knelt down to hold out his hand. She is quick to get on her feet, taking his hand.
The two walk through the trees and make their way to a tunnel-like place.
"Alpha?" "Just follow me and be quiet." He whispered kindly. Both go through the tunnel and come out to a beautiful sight.
A vast cave filled with flowers was the sight set before her. It left her breathless. It's beautiful.
The beautiful gems illuminate the cave, keeping it from being a darkness engulfed wonderland.
She steps forward hesitantly, glancing at Alpha who nods. She rushed to pick some flowers and admire the place more. A smile appears on her lips.
Alpha smiles softly at the sight of her so happy. This is what he lived for.
He watched as she practically ran through the flowers. A chuckle comes from his mouth. He couldn't help it.
"Done!" She now had a couple of pink daisies. Alpha nods as he leads her back out. Once they make it out, the entrance to the cave simply vanishes into thin air.
Sorana's eyes widen, staring at her brother expecting him to explain it but he only shrugs. "Go give those to Mother."
She nodded and bounds away. Running as fast as her little legs could go. She ran to the castle where her mother resides in her room, waiting for her gift.
Her footfalls rang through the halls. The marble floor makes noise every time.
Now she has finally reached the door. Everyone had been giving her a glance. Worried or worse.
She twists open the door and enters the room, a horrifying display appears before her.
Her father stood in front of a dead body. His clothes were splattered with crimson liquid. The room reeked of the smell of blood and human liquids…
Her first move was to head for the dead body. It was now that she realized. The dead corpse was none other than her mother's. A horrified gasp escapes her as she stumbles back only to bump into her father's leg.
He turned to look at her, his once blue eyes were dilated and red in color. The hand that clutched his sword clenched as though he was going to swing it and end her life too.
She scrambled back, her hands nudging the body behind her. She was absolutely terrified right now. Traumatized. What was happening? Where were her parents? Her father lifts the sword over his head, readying to give the final blow towards her.
She braced herself for the impact of her father's blade, not shutting her eyes because she thought she'd rather see her father's face for the last time. But the sound of footfalls outside causes her father to stop.
It was now that her father seemed to snap out of his possessed state. The red eyes return to a color of one eye being blue and the other red as they fixate on her.
"Sora…na…" Her father's eyes widen when he sees the body behind her. The blue eye returns to a sickening and terrifying red color.
Suddenly the soft gaze turned hard and cold as he snarled. "What did you do?" His voice… he used that tone only to those who oppose him.
Did he think…?
"Father, I didn't-" "Leave." Roman demands. "But Father…" "I said leave wench." Tears form in her eyes as she runs past him.
She passed the forming crowd of servants who were all in on this plan. She knew they were.
She runs to her room and locks the door, slumping on the door and crying. Mother is gone and Father thinks she killed her. She cried until she fell asleep.
When she woke up, there was noise. The sounds of bells ring outside, she peers from the window seat in her room. She could see that everyone was coming out of their homes.
They were all mourning the loss of their empress. Yes, of course that was it. Sorana looks around, her eyes notice the daisies she had picked for her mother.
She itched to take it, but she only cried. The flowers she had picked for Mother. She will never be able to give it to them. She will never be able to see mother's beautiful smile and her laughter. The way she read the stories so wonderfully that she was engulfed into the fantasy world, a place where both her and her mother could be together without interruptions. There will be no more picnics under the sun where she, Damien, Kindred, Kaisu and Mother would pretend to be commoners for a day. She will never see Father's sweet smile towards her and her mother. How the two cradled her in their arms before she was tucked into sleep.
No, that was no longer a possibility. Now she was a wench. An unwanted princess who murdered her mother.
No one came for her. Not even during the funeral of her mother. They didn't give her a chance to see Mother one last time. No one even gave her food until she really begged for it or was too weak to beg anymore.
One week, two, three… It was beginning to show that no one cares anymore.
An elder comes to her one day, asking her questions. The maids whispering was the only way she could learn what was happening outside that door.
They talked about how her father didn't even want to look at her anymore. How he was absolutely disgusted that his own child would do a thing like this.
Her brothers? They were sent to school and none said anything to her. Probably angry and disgusted by her too.
The only one she could talk to was herself. Her conversations were growing tiresome. Everything was tiring…
Every day, she'd beg them to let her out or at least bring her food. Silence. Cold silence. This went on for a long time until she got used to it. Got used to being told nothing, to being fed nothing, to not being cared for at all.
She slept a lot to gain energy. She learned to deal with what she had. This meant that she was forced to also eat the moldy food if she had no choice. She read the books in her room that were placed there as display.
Three years passed, three birthdays that were not celebrated. Three long and tiresome years of her trying to be cautious with what she had, which was barely anything.
Every time it was her birthday, she'd bring out a photo book of her family and sing to herself while she stared at their faces.
It was all she had. All she could do. She missed them. Missed everything. But she can't have what she had.
Now it was her eighth birthday. She was softly singing to herself while she clutched her photo book. Choking out a sob as she continued whispering the song her mother had taught her.
She puts down the photo book and wipes her tears as she hears the sound of the lock opening.
Her father stood there. His blue eyes were now red. The same red as before. "Sorana. Pack your things."
"What…?" She asked. "Why?"
"You're going to the academy."
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─────── NOTE?!
angst starts here ladies and gentlemen and non-binary people <3
word count . . . 2.27K
─────── INVITATIONS?!
@primordixl , @lxdymoon0357 , @achy-boo , @writerig , @yevene , @roseadleyn , @crownxie , @hykar1
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artbyblastweave · 1 year
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Taking the bait for Tick
Setting fusion in which the end of Watchmen loosely overlaps with the appearance of Scion and the rise of actual superpowered capes, who are using the Minutemen and Crimebusters as their cultural referents when they start to go out in costume. Vikare doesn't get beaten to death in this AU because people don't believe he has powers, or at least not specifically because of that; he gets beaten to death because people are sick of the masked vigilantes in general and haven’t twigged to the fact that this is a genuinely new paradigm. 
Scion ends the cold war (possibly intervening in the squid attack? Not sure of the exact timeline on this) frustrating Ozymandias and driving him to involvement with early Cauldron; his motivation is halfsies between recognition of the threat posed by Scion and irritation that an actual monstrous space-squid dropped out of the aether to obviate his meticulously crafted space-squid plan. He might be the recipient of a vial, or he might be kept on, very deliberately, as the token paragon human to act as a counterbalance to Average Jane Doctor Mother; this has mixed effects on the organization’s efficacy, because despite his gestures towards pragmatism (”I did it 35 minutes ago”) he did name and style himself after one of the most famously egotistical mythohistorical figures. Bit of an ego there.
In all derivative works that examine the future of the Watchmen setting, attempts at Heroism in general are framed as being essentially unsuppressable once the precedent has been set. Scion exacerbates this process, as a stateless, apolitical agent of heroic idealism replacing the nakedly political (but ironically much more human) Dr. Manhattan, and thus giving a northstar to people who otherwise would be understandably cynical about heroism as a concept.
 Night Owl and Silk Spectre, who canonically embarked on a renewed crimefighting career after Watchmen canon, are early beneficiaries of this, both becoming unusually old triggers due to their disproportionately high levels of experience, and beneficiaries of Cauldron’s eventual pro-cape cultural engineering, being lauded as prescient early adopters and fixtures of the third-wave cape scene. I don’t really have much in mind for this part, beyond the idea that Dan, based on his canon insecurities and disillusionment, probably becomes an overengineering Tinker- building tinkertech that gets the job done but is almost always just a flashier way of accomplishing a mundane goal if you stop and think about it for two seconds. Laurie I suspect would have some kind of trigger event tied up in her inability to let go of cape life, her sense of being a vessel for other’s ambitions and fantasies, her lack of meaningful options besides capehood (”I’m 35 years old and the only people I know are goddamn superheroes!”) but I don’t have a pat power in mind, or really the best grasp of her character beyond the surface stuff.
Lurking in the background of the setting is Rorschach, whose inability to reconcile his personal ethics with the utilitarian action everyone else committed to, and his ensuing suicidal state, causes him to undergo the mother of all breaker triggers at the moment of his canon annihilation. Post-Manhattaning Rorschach is a Breaker/Thinker/Master/Stranger who, upon scanning a target, gains knowledge of any information that might shatter that person’s worldview, and the ability to telepathically inflict that knowledge on his target if he gets close enough. Said ability to get close enough is provided by the fact that his breaker state- a blurry, spectral caricature of his pre-trigger costume- is both mostly intangible and imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t share a “headspace” with his current target (I.E. someone who’d be equally devastated to hear the Worldview-Shattering-Truth.) Rorschach’s targets either tend to quietly melt down and fall off the radar, or go out in a suicidal burst of self-destruction that accomplishes very little beyond getting the target killed; this is a process lubricated by Rorschach’s shard, which, due to Rorschach’s perma-breaker state, is able to play Rorschach like a fiddle, nudging him into targeting people who’ll go off the rails in a conflict-maximizing way.
Rorschach’s power resolves the tension of his trigger in the worst way possible; he’s free to follow his ideals in spreading horrific truths to as many people as he wants, but only in a way that inflicts the same moral paralysis or self-destruction he suffered from; to the extent that his information is actionable, it solely produces doomed, crazed crusaders who die before accomplishing much, essentially rendering his choice to share the information moot (and morally harmless.) To the extent that this thing would have a plot, I think it would involve 2011-era characters (probably a Watchdog cube jockey) investigating Case 86, The Rorschach Ghost, and invariably stumbling upon the information black hole surrounding the Ozymandias plot.
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loosesodamarble · 1 year
Text
The Future Silva Family Part 2
The next additions to House Silva come from Nebra and they are a pair of twins: Skylar and Elana.
..........
Skylar Victor Silva
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His given name means "scholar" and his middle name stands as a testament to him living despite his pre-mature birth.
Age: 15
Birthday: August 20
According to Skylar himself, he has a second birthday, July 19. For unknown reasons, Nebra went into labor early. Noelle (on a family visit) called in Nero but Nero arrived only after Skylar was born. Nero used her Sealing Magic to keep Elana from being put at risk too. Skylar was placed into incubation until he had grown enough. Skylar likes to joke that death couldn't even kill him as a baby but neither Nebra nor Elana like that.
Magic Attribute: Steam.
Appearance: Copper colored hair, the reddish hue with a metallic sheen came from his mother's silver hair and his father being a redhead. In his youth, he keeps it semi-long so he can style it into a wild look but later cuts it shorter. His eyes are purple just like his mother's.
Personality: Skylar is intelligent, adoring the process of learning and even enjoying when he can't grasp something right away because "it makes my eventual success sweeter!" He rarely does anything halfway. And when he's able to use his knowledge, he feels even more pleased with himself. The main use of Skylar's smarts, though, is pranks, loving the chaos he can cause. He hates tedium and also feels the urge to make things change. The palace is a quiet and boring place because appearances have to be kept up. Skylar doesn't vibe with that. Though he seems detached and uncaring, Skylar is actually very protective of his loved ones, to a violent degree at times. He holds a small grudge against House Silva after learning how everyone treated Aunt Noelle in the past.
His best friend is his cousin Soleil. They're always pulling pranks together. He's also very doting towards Filomina too; he took one look of her as a baby and decided to adopt her as his new little sister.
Hates Ann and Raphael with a burning passion since they're always trying to stop his scheming. Chalivas is similar but he can tolerate it from a family member.
One day, Skylar wants to be able to catch Mereoleona off her guard and tries relentlessly to impress her but has yet to be considered anything more than a nuisance. Leoray has similar thoughts about him.
Skylar claims that Zora is his father and whether or not that's true is... dependent on the reality. In some (mostly ones where only my own ocs exist), Zora is the father.
Skylar eventually becomes a Magic Knight, a Black Bull specifically (regardless of who is father is).
Elana Silva
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In Hebrew, her name means "tree" while in Greek it can mean "bright," "beautiful," or "torch."
Age: 15
Birthday: August 20
Magic Attribute: Smoke.
Appearance: Bright pink hair, a dilution of her father's red hair by Nebra's paler hair color. She almost always has her hair done up, either in a bun or high ponytail, but makes sure to leave some bangs loose. Her eyes are a strong shade of blue.
Personality: Elana is a much calmer individual than her elder brother. She’s as intelligent and observant as he is but doesn’t use it to the same extent as him. … Most of the time. Elana is as skilled in trap magic as Skylar and so they have a rivalry going to see whose traps are more effective. They often set up traps on their bedroom doors and unfortunate maids face consequences instead of the twins themselves. She wishes her brother were her only victim though. When Skylar starts to push things too far, she will put her foot down and drag Skylar away from his fun. Elana is also outspoken and blunt. She'll speak her mind even at inappropriate times. If she's told to play nice with people, she'll nicely point out how their arrogance blinds them to their faults and to be careful, otherwise she or her brother will make their life hell. With her actual friends though, Elana is genuinely nice. So long as people are their genuine selves with her, she'll be just as open with them. Excellent secret keeper, never divulging without permission.
Elana is very close with her cousins Fleuriana and Eirlys, Ferro too since he is as outspoken as she is. She’s also friendly with Cynthia since that girl seems to be friends with everyone. She knows Saki too though their relationship is a little tense due to their siblings.
She, along with Skylar, learn trap magic from Zora (no matter what reality they live in). Zora was hesitant at first but when the twins showed a knack for it as well as a disregard for the customs of nobility, he happily passed on his knowledge.
In realities where Zora isn't the father of the twins, the story behind Skylar and Elana's conception is complicated. A random noble with Fire Magic began to court and seduce Nebra. She was genuinely into the noble and enjoyed crossing the boundaries of propriety with him. However, during the courtship, an investigation of the Fire Noble's family turned up a plot involving getting Nebra pregnant and pushing for marriage to make the resulting child an eligible heir then bumping off Nozel and his children to ensure Nebra's family would be head of House Silva. Upon learning this, Nozel gave orders to have the Fire Noble and his family completely removed from noble and Clover society altogether (not dead, just banished). Nebra decided to keep the children to spite the Fire Noble. The children he wanted would be hers alone.
Elana doesn't pursue knighthood and instead takes a job in the Magic Investigation Bureau.
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