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#why? because that is the only way to feel like you belong in a system that inherently excludes you
comradekatara · 3 days
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i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.
Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,
And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)
i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.
frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.
as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.
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brookheimer · 9 months
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very funny that one of the main responses to the lizzo fat-shaming accusations is “but SHE’S fat!!!” as if internalized fatphobia doesn’t exist. like, you do realize that fat people have had that worldview beaten into them by literally every single person around them their entire lives, and famous fat people even more so. celebrity body positivity is so frequently performative — less about genuinely feeling positively about your body and other bodies that look like yours, more about trying to claw your way to having value in the eyes of society through any means possible. it’s out of spite and the desire to fit in. it’s not about conventional beauty not mattering, it’s about trying to expand the lens of societal atttactiveness to include you. lizzo was never trying to dismantle beauty standards as a concept, as a hierarchical way of perceiving society, as a value system. she just wanted to be valued within it — and that’s understandable, because we all want that, we all need to feel desired and worthwhile and valuable. but the best way for an outsider to become an insider is to know the hierarchy inside and out, then to enforce it yourself. if you’re able to gatekeep beauty and value from others, that implies you have access to it yourself. the only way for fat people to be valued within modern societal beauty constraints is to carve out a spot within that hierarchy and guard it with your life. i’m sorry if this is news to people, but so long as our perceptions of beauty remain the same, fat people will never be viewed as equally human — and especially fat women will never be viewed as equally woman. our beauty constraints are premised on a dehumanization of fatness. there is no way to exist as a fat person within that sphere without perpetuating those constraints yourself to prove to skinny people that you deserve to be there. this is why celebrity body positivity is so infrequently helpful long-term or big-picture — it’s not about setting all bodies equal to one another, it’s about raising your particular body equal to those at the top of the hierarchy. so of course lizzo bodyshamed her employees, her backup dancers, her assistants — that’s exactly what enabled her to become a “voice” for “body positivity.” without a position of power in that hierarchy, not only would her calls for body positivity not be heard, they likely wouldn’t exist in the first place; how are you going to feel positive about your body in our ever-competitive pyramid of beauty unless you have people below you to feel better than?
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livinginshambles · 10 months
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Not ridiculous at all | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.
Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)
(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!
Part two Masterlist
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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.
But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.
I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.
Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.
"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.
"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.
"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.
"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"
You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.
"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?
"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.
"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."
And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.
Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.
You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.
"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.
"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.
Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.
"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.
You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.
James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.
"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.
"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.
Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.
The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.
Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"
"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."
"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"
Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"
Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.
With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.
"I love you guys."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.
"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.
James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.
He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.
The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.
"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.
James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.
James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'
A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?
He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.
The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.
He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.
"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.
"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.
"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."
"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.
"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.
Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.
"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"
This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.
"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.
"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.
"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.
Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"
"I bloody hope so, Moony."
"But it's James."
"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."
"But it's James."
"Yep, you're right."
Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.
"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.
"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."
You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.
"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.
"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."
"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.
You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.
"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.
What now?
You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.
"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.
"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."
You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.
"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"
You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.
"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.
"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."
At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.
James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.
If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.
You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.
'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?
James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.
'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.
You looked absolutely perfect.
You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.
You were running from Filch.
'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.
Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.
You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.
You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.
You simply admired him.
The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.
Oh no.
Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?
You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.
James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.
The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.
Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.
So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.
"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.
James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.
"How about a date?"
There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.
"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.
James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.
He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.
And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.
You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"
"You", he blurted out.
You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.
"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.
There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.
"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.
"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.
James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.
"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.
"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.
"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."
'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."
You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.
With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.
Part two
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
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yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]
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Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own
Internet consumption!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.
First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.
Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.
With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)
Part Two
Part Three
Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought. 
He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself. 
The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark. 
God’s Beloved. 
The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes. 
The Holiest Woman in the World.
There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff. 
 Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance. 
Yes, you were the Reverend Sister  but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place. 
The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself  even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes. 
His Eyes that you now possessed. 
No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.
You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision. 
Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe. 
He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever. 
One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a  strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther. 
“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.” 
Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?
No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister. 
Something is not right. 
He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir. 
If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.
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You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision. 
All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight,  vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it? 
This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return. 
Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take. 
That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser. 
Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?
If the sight of seeing this Affection Level  and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target. 
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Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”
Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor. 
You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist. 
Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered. 
“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.
 “Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”
Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation. 
May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.
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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Someone, take Lego away from Konig (yandere!loser!Konig x fem!Reader)
AO3
Konig is keeping you in his basement. Turns out, this is still not the worst part. His interest are. Tags ans Warnings: Dub-con, obsessive behaviour, possessive behavior, yandere loser Konig, size difference, kidnapping, weird fluff.
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König can play women’s bodies like fine musical instruments.
After he spent 10 minutes vigorously rubbing your outer labia, you concluded that he was thrown out of musical school on day one.
He flicks your clit occasionally, clearly not considering it something worthy of attention and, obviously, not something that actually brings you pleasure – he fidgets with it mechanically, like it’s a part of his riffle, and you almost want to say that his dismissive approach is kind of hot. He edges you perfectly, always giving away just enough pleasure that it feels nice, but not nearly enough that it brings you to orgasm – and he does so with zero idea of what he is doing, which makes you…almost proud. Of him. Of your angry crazy incel loser kidnapper who thought that bringing you lego flowers would make you suck his cock.
Well, it kinda did. Not the flowers, the whole…kidnapping thing. He did use it to get into your pants – and you aren’t even allowed to wear those now. Only his shirts, maybe a hoodie on a cold day, and a pair of lacy panties that he slips on you every morning he is at home.
You have a system – and König does his best to maintain it. You are getting fed at the same time, to make sure that your pretty little self is not malnourished, you are getting roughly clean clothes — most of it belongs to him, of course, like it’s not embarrassing to wear, and sometimes he even asks how your day was. Sometimes you look him deep in the eyes and say that you didn’t move from your usual spot the whole day because, well, you are kidnapped. Sometimes you are trying to be funny and make some silly jokes — and then he either gets too comfortable laughing and then trying to get his hand all the way down the depths of your inner thighs, or he gets angry.
König knows that a petty flower like you doesn’t want to be in captivity for so long, but there really isn’t much both of you can do about it.
He brings you different lego sets from time to time, trying to find out what you like the most. He doesn’t quite understand that, working in a Lego shop, you were utterly sick of most of the boxes lying around. He tried to gauge the reaction out of you, but you’re either ignoring him, crying or begging him to let you go…and he can’t exactly have that. He, kinda, can, of course, but it would mean sliding off your brain so you would never tell anyone about your experiences, or getting into a showdown with the police – and knowing that he hopped you through the border illegally to be his captive wife, wouldn’t really give him any brownie points. He is fucked, utterly and completely, if you’re ever going to be free without falling madly in love with him…
Which is why König is trying to make you love him. Thoroughly, utterly, and spending copious amounts of time with his tongue buried between your folds in the meantime.
Like now.
— You like it, ja? When I move like this…
He was spending too much time caressing and fondling your thighs – but you must admit that having his lips travel across your skin and sending goosebumps right into your core wasn’t so bad…he touched you a bit awkwardly, just a tad bit shy – like he wasn’t so sure how to approach a soft, female body instead of a cold rifle he was probably used to…he knows that he can’t just treat you like another one of his guns but, by god, if he doesn’t adore the way you look at him. All scared and nervous as he pushes his lips upwards, as he covers your soft skin with bite marks – you were so sure that he will be too nervous to even touch you, but you know better now…this guy doesn’t care that he is your captor. He only wants you to accept him, and if giving you gifts didn’t work out…
You needed to be a bit more diligent about the whole accepting his kindness thing. Maybe he would have been satisfied with a handjob – but now he wants to put his hands on you and do his job.
— Too…too much, Ko…
— Call me “sir”.
There is steel in his voice, and you stiff slightly. This is new – he was never like this before, even though you kinda got that he was in some sort of military. He was way too bulky and had too much money to be a regular gun nerd, so you settled for some special forces or elite war crime unit…then again, you weren’t in Germany anymore. Guy would have to get another citizenship to get into a more serious “I fucking hate my fellow man” forces.
He flicks his tongue over your clit and you remember what you’re here for. To get fucked. Because you are fucked. Not right now in physical sense, but you will be in a few minutes, and you’ve been mentally fucked for a few another hours and-
— Sir, ple…too much, re…really…
König fuckijng adores you.
He loves your trembling voice, your trembling hands, your trembling everything. The way you squint your eyes as he finds all of your special spots – it took him some time but ladies are just like riffles – come undone if you press on a few parts. You look perfect under him, and he couldn’t have you any other way even if he wanted to…god, you’re too fucking perfect for your own good. So, so pretty, it’s insane how he didn’t fuck you the first night you’ve been in his basement. Perhaps, he was trying to be a gentleman – fuck this, now. If he knew how sweet you would sound, he’d abandon any rotten chivalry on day one.
König didn’t have a lot of experience – a few sex workers here and there, some in the more exotic destinations while the others were, embarrassingly enough, from his hometown. It was a sense of domesticity, that he isn’t a fucking loser who can’t get a lady in his bed without wavering either his gun or hit wallet – but he has you now, and you don’t really care about his money or his guns…unless he counts your obvious activity. Which he doesn’t. Good golly, you’re too fucking pretty to count that.
He flicks his tongue over your clit and dips lower, deeper, sucking the sweet nectar straight from the source. You’re embarrassingly wet even as you try to push his head away – he would handcuff you, but he likes your little resistance attempts too much. He moans every time you tug on his hair and, with time, you should finally understand that everything you do only makes him want you more. Maybe, you do – but you keep doing this because you’re such a good girl who wants nothing more but to please her dearest…not exactly husband, but he can work on this. He has friends in places. Same ones who used to get him out of detentions when his quiet kid violent tendencies weren’t quite quiet enough.
He is moaning as he eats you out – the sound reverberates from your walls and makes you clench around his tongue, your brain already getting fried from pleasure. You never wanted to get off from your captor’s tongue buried so deep between your legs, but you surely enjoy it now…
You try to pry his head from you when he gets a bit too eager, when it feels like his nose is smashing your clit and you can only moan some mindless bullshit.
— You want to talk about lego instead?
He presses his head on your thighs, his cheek angled against the soft skin. He has a bit of a stubble that burns the soft skin, but the look in his eyes is far too eager. He is not bullshitting – and this is the most terrifying he is ever been. You try to imagine another three-hour lecture Star Wars and the history of lego sets combined with his awkward attempts to fuck you in between turning his affection spam from one thing to the other. The picture is vivid in your mind. You can almost hear it.
You consider your options. It is a hard decision for you.
— You know, they weren’t able to sell the sets to girls up until…
You grab a fistful of his hair and push his face all the way down your dripping pussy.
It looks like the only sure way of making your captor shut up is literally forcing him to fuck you…there were many such cases – you embarrassingly easily fall to his charms, even though he has the aura and charisma of a serial killer who got a freshly baked orphan for his lunch and then tried to talk you into destroying a small country’s economy.
König eats you out with the vigor of a starving man, and there isn’t a place he would love to be more than here and now, listening to your heavenly moans. This is the best motivational song he heard so far – and as he pushes his big, flat tongue deeper into the gummy walls of your clenching pussy, he thinks about recording your sounds and then listening to them in the gym. Could probably break the poor lifting pole with the strength of his fists.
He brought you to an orgasm – not easily, he had to lick the reaction out of you, your heat coming down to both of you like a wave. You feel tired immediately, knowing just how much energy you just wasted listening to his blabber between your legs – but you honestly can’t be arsed to react right now.
König lifts his body up so he can kiss you – you taste yourself on him and, admittedly, it’s a lovely way to make him shut up. You still tremble as you get down from your high, your legs finally giving up, even though you were already laying on that shabby mattress. You shift slightly so he won’t crush you under the weight of his body. A Lego piece pocks at your side, making you wince.
You hate this fucking place.
— What’s wrong, Liebling?
He nuzzles your neck like a needy dog, pressing light kisses all over your skin. He is marking it, too – you can’t keep comparing him to a dog, but this is exactly what he is. Simply a war hound that you have to tame in order to get a somewhat normal life while still belonging in his basement. You thought you knew how to play this game – then he pushed you on your tummy and fucked you because, apparently, you were too good at playing him. Even now, he acts more like a lover – if only you could see past his homicidal tendencies…
But you can’t.
But he doesn’t care anyway.
— I…
You bite your lips, trying to come up with a lie that wouldn’t make him fuck you. König thought you looked beautiful like this, all holed up in your thoughts. So, so pretty, he couldn’t help himself – he needed you, as much as he kinda hated playing the psychological game and trying to understand what you’re thinking. Ladies are too mysterious for him, after all.
— I want to sleep in a normal bed.
Oh.
Well, he…didn’t expect this.
He was ready to combat your desire to run away or to be let go willingly. He was ready to put you on your knees and make you beg for him to not let you go - after all, you did belong to him in all of his right. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to want something so simple. Something that he can do. God, you’d look fucking divine on his bed instead of the tiny basement he put you in. He can already imagine you on your tummy, face buried in his pillows as he pounds into your soft ass and explains every superhero poster he has in his room. He will show you all of his figures and knives and guns, and you’ll finally see just how amazing he is and how interesting his hobbies are – and you’re bound to finally love him the way he deserves.
You stare at him, blankly. He kinda loves when you look like that – sometimes he imagines you being a mindless little bimbo who can’t think of anything besides his dick, and it helps him get off when you’re too sleepy to play along with him. He tried to bring you more sets, something childish, something meant for girls – but you tossed away the rose bouquet and you didn’t even spare a second glance at some fandom set that he thought you’d like. God, you’re difficult. Women are difficult. Why can’t you be as straight as a riffle?
— Normal bed, Katzen? You don’t like it here?
He puts a hand on your shoulder, his fingers too big to rest on your body carefully – he easily reaches for your neck and he knows that you’d go out like a light with the smallest squeeze. You’re adorable and soft like this, and he can’t wait to finally try choking with you.
König imagines your pretty, soft body all helpless under him – maybe you’d claw at his hands and beg him to stop, maybe you’d enjoy it, drenching the small mattress with your juices. Maybe you’d push your hips towards his, desperately searching for release. You can be a nasty, dirty girl, he knows this all too well – mostly because he did go through your phone and searched for your browser history. Who knew that a simple lego store cashier could have so many kidnapping and overpowering fantasies. Who knew that you could be so wet just because some military-obsessed loser wanted to shove his cock into you and wasn’t nice enough to ask first.
— I…I don’t like the basement.
Smart girl. You know how to be sot and obedient when you have to. Too bad, this behavior also made you all the more desirable for König – compared to the rowdy recruits and dumb enemies, your quiet voice is everything he needs to not go crazy. His hand plays with your neck, squeezing it slightly, playfully. He can feel your pulse quickening every time he does this and he is sure that if he’d drop his hand between your legs again, your pulsating pussy would be wet enough to indicate a second orgasm.
Shit.
He goes too far again.
— You don’t like the basement? Why?
You stare at him, blankly. He seriously thought there is nothing wrong with the basement – it’s small, yes, but probably just about the size of a studio apartment you were able to afford while working in Berlin, of all places. You have a mattress, a loving boyfriend, you have all the food and snacks you want, your pussy is filled with cum and your mind should be filled with endless love and adoration for the coolest guy in the world who just so happens to be in love with you, so…
He looks at your face again. Ja, you don’t like the basement. You’re a surface girl after all.
— You really want me to answer that? It’s the basement.
He snorts, still dragging the conversation.
— I spend most of my childhood in the basement. It was nice.
— I could tell.
— What?
— Nothing. Let me out, please.
He sighs with deeply settled tiredness. He thought you’d be nicer about it, too – but he knows what ladies want, he is a ladies' man at heart. He doesn’t have one, of course, not unless this charcoal-black shrapnel-filled thing deep in his chest could be considered one, but he tried his best to be good for you. You deserve something nice, something good. He wants to kiss you all over and he will do it on his own bed, while trying to talk you into watching some old nerdy TV show with him. Maybe you’d agree to play with some Lego after this and it could be considered a really nice and thorough foreplay.
— I can’t.
— Let me sleep on a normal bed, then.
Well, this, he can do.
Carefully unlocking your shackles and immediately catching your legs so you won’t kick him in an attempt to escape, König picks you up like a kitten. It’s scary, almost, how easy it is for him to just manhandle you into the position he wants. He is a big boy, admittingly, so it really doesn’t matter how big or how small you are. He can abuse you easily, and this is why you’re trying to keep him gentle. Using all of your womanly charms even if this guy would get off just from you calling his name.
He covers your eyes so you won’t see anything – not like you’re interested in the amount of weirdly specific movie posters on the walls or an alarming amount of firearms. He knows he is not the most charming person out there with the most interesting hobbies, but you will learn to appreciate all of his anime figures, or else you’re going to suffer the fate of a recruit who dares to ask his late thirties colonel of who the fuck Ayanami Rei is. Rumors are held that this guy was never seen in the army again.
He only puts the hand away from your face when you are sitting on the soft bed. You stare at the navy sheets – fucking obviously – and, surprisingly, a bed frame. Then your gaze travels a bit further, to the walls and…
God.
Oh fuck.
You almost want to cry from how much of a loser your kidnapper is. He is a threatening mercenary, a fucking colonel in military uniform who holds you at gunpoint occasionally. You stare at the anime posters. You contemplate your options.
— Can I go back to the basement?
If god is real, he is a fucking anime girl from the poster in your kidnapper’s bedroom.
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fuckyeahisawthat · 8 months
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“I don’t think that is what God wants. And I don’t think you want it either.”
This line of Aziraphale’s in the Job minisode keeps sticking out to me. Because this is the heart of the problem, right? This is how Aziraphale can see Crowley so completely and also not at all.
Because yes they suck at open communication and yes it’s because they had to hide their relationship for thousands of years and have so so so much trauma and fear to work through. But ALSO they actually do have a profound difference in how they see the world that keeps coming between them, and it’s not just theoretical but deeply personal to both of them.
Because Aziraphale still wants to believe that God is good. He can’t let go of that because his whole identity is wrapped up in being an angel of the Lord, and if God’s not good then what has he been doing for his entire existence?
And so when bad things are happening he falls back on This cannot be what God wants. The whole of season one, he refuses to believe that God could really want the world to end—even though we now know he knew this was a possibility before the world even started. He keeps going up the chain of command, trying to find someone to intervene. “That’s why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty and then the Almighty will fix it.” As if God doesn’t have all the information or hasn’t been paying attention.
And really, the events of season one reinforce this worldview for him. Because if the Archangel Fucking Gabriel isn’t sure what God wants, then maybe God did want them to stop Armageddon. Maybe it was Aziraphale and Crowley who were doing God’s work after all.
He’s gotten as far as realizing that Heaven’s orders are not the same thing as God’s will, but he still hasn’t detached the concepts of Good and Right from God in his worldview.
Crowley is a good person who does the right thing so he must still be an angel deep down. “I know the angel you were.” The only way Aziraphale can conceptualize Crowley saving Job’s children is, “Come on, you’re a little bit on our [God’s] side.” So Crowley’s fall was a mistake; Crowley belongs in Heaven, where he was so happy before the Fall. Why wouldn’t he want to be an angel again? And yeah maybe Heaven sucks now but God is still good, so there’s hope that the system can be reformed with a change of leadership, and Heaven can be made to actually do good, the way God always intended.
But that’s not how Crowley sees the world at all. He is operating with an entirely different understanding of reality. Because he figured out a long time ago (at least by the time of the Job job, but probably long before that) that you can’t base your sense of morality on what you think God wants. Not just because you don’t know for sure, but because sometimes God’s plans are fucking awful. God in Good Omens is not kind to Her creations. She doesn’t tolerate questions or doubts or disobedience. She’s capricious, turning on the creatures She made and killing a bunch of them when She’s in a bad mood. She punishes indiscriminately and disproportionately. She wagers human lives like gambling chips. The kids were supposed to be dead no matter who won the bet.
I think it’s interesting that Crowley is the one who introduces the idea in season one of “What if the Almighty planned it like this all along? From the very beginning.” That’s probably a comforting thought to Aziraphale, soothing his anxieties about going against Heaven right when he is feeling acute distress at the idea of no longer having a side. (And, in that particular moment, no longer even having a bookshop.)
But it’s not a comforting thought to Crowley. Have you seen what happens when God has a plan for you? It fucking sucks. Woe betide you if you’re the Barbie God decides to play with today. (At bare minimum, you’re coming back with some burn marks and a weird haircut.)
I’ve brought up the line “There are no right people. There’s just God, moving in mysterious ways and not talking to any of us” before, and I tend to focus on the “there are no right people” part. But also, there’s just God.
Aziraphale tends to draw a distinction between God’s will and Heaven’s orders when it suits him, and collapse that distinction when it doesn’t. Crowley almost never differentiates between God and Heaven. There’s just God, and She’s not going to explain why this is happening or listen to pleas for mercy (although Crowley still tries). You can’t trust Heaven or Hell, and you can’t count on God to show up and make everything all right. Sometimes God is in fact the reason that things are not all right. You’re on your own.
(And. Look. Crowley is right on this one. There are certainly aspects of their relationship where they’re both equally responsible for things being a shitshow, but the text is pretty unambiguous about Crowley, a demon, having the most accurate read on the nature of God in the world of Good Omens out of any of the metaphysical characters.)
Crowley rebuilt his entire sense of self, alone, after the Fall. He created himself anew and developed his own moral compass and sense of identity independent of both Heaven and Hell. “The angel you knew is not me.” When Crowley does the right thing, that’s not his angel-ness shining through; that’s just Crowley.
And from a like, trauma recovery point of view, it’s actually very healthy for him to have the realization that sometimes God’s just kind of a dick. He didn’t do anything to deserve getting kicked out of Heaven. None of them did. Just God messing them about because She didn’t like being questioned, or She wanted to see what would happen, or She needed two sides for Reasons and didn’t much care who was on one or the other, or She’s playing some fucked up little game for Her own amusement. (And if there was some Great Plan that required Crowley to fall…well, that is also fucked up. Because it doesn’t matter if there was a reason. It still hurt.)
And while Crowley in general is extremely patient with Aziraphale and his slow, halting journey away from Heaven…it’s gotta sting, every time Aziraphale doesn’t want to believe that God could be cruel, when Crowley is standing right fucking there. It’s gotta hurt when Aziraphale refuses to see something that Crowley knows to be true through his own lived experience. Because it should be enough. What happened to him should be enough to make someone who loves him walk away from Heaven and never look back. And it isn’t.
But of course Crowley is one hundred percent not going to talk about this, if he is even fully self-aware about having these thoughts, because it’s far too painful and vulnerable. (He talks to plants, goats, God, and no one in a bar at the end of the world, but never to Aziraphale.) And so he says “Tell me you said no” and “I think I understand a lot better than you do” because he can’t say Choose me. Just this once, choose me and he can’t say Believe me.
And Aziraphale is not going to think about all this and work it out for himself, because he has a massive lump of denial centered around exactly this thing, that sometimes God hurts people who didn’t do anything to deserve it. I’m sure he’s thought about the Fall in abstract terms, enough to be afraid of it, but not in terms of this is a thing that happened to a person I love. And he has certainly not allowed himself to draw any conclusions about the nature of God from it, because that is far too scary a prospect.
And so they’re stuck. Until they can figure out how to remove this massive landmine from the center of their relationship, they are going to keep having the same fight over and over again, and they’re going to keep hurting each other without fully understanding why.
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Hi! Shy anon sharing brain rot once again. As always is about The Ghost Distribution System™, because that’s 100% how he’d act and i can’t stop thinking about it.
Anyway, i’ve been specifically thinking about Ghost catching the flu. Gets all of the basic but annoying ass symptoms. Runny nose, sore throat, the not-too-high-but-definitely-debilitating fever, the shivers and body aches.
And despite feeling like death, he’s still coming over to fix that leaky sink you complained about. (Because he’s been through worst and it’s not like he really takes that much care of himself, your needs go first anyway.)
So, you let him in, thank him again for offering to do it himself and saving you a couple hundred in a handyman that would take way longer to do what he insists it’s a simple task. But when he keeps on coughing and needs to stop every few seconds to wipe his nose cause it’s stuffy you definitely notice something is wrong.
And as much as he refuses and insists that he is fine and doesn’t need you to fuss over him (you already do so much for him, show him so much kindness and care. How could he dare ask for more?) you end up feeling his skin and noticing he definitely has a fever.
So now he is laying on your couch, soft fluffy blanket around him (that absolutely smells like you and it’s making his mind even more fuzzy), cold compress on his forehead and a random movie quietly playing on the background as you make him a snack (to help him recover some strength and get some fluids you said).
And while he’s laying there all he’s thinking about though his foggy mind is how he’s going to repay you for this, all the things he can do for you so you keep letting him in every time he comes back.
You're such a saint, you don't want to put Ghost on your couch, not after everything he's done for you. He kicks up a silent fuss when you offer your bed for a nap, his fingers flexing and balling into tight fists. Again you offer a piece of your sanctuary, a place belonging only to you, as if it's nothing. He's sick in more ways than one. Filthy with his desire for you. He argues with you, with his god. Benevolent as you may be, every prophet has challenges placed in the path of his devotion. The devil tempted Jesus with all manners of the flesh, so why wouldn't he tempt Ghost?
Your concern makes you agree. Settling Ghost so gently on your couch that he wonders if even this is too good for him. You disappear long enough for him to wonder against his choice, long enough for him to close his eyes against the fever. You return with pillows and blankets, arranging them and coaxing him to lay down. Your fingers hover around his head, as if laying it on your pillows might be too much of a burden for him. As if he's liable to break if he settles it anywhere but your warm embrace.
You leave him again and Ghost pushes his face against he offered comfort, breathes in your scent greedily and imagines he's laid his head in your lap. You must have brought this comfort from your bed, determined to give him everything he doesn't deserve. It makes his head spin, sick, filthy, he could never repay the goodness you give him. You pull the gently weighted blankets over his shoulders, wipe the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth, he can't look at you. He can't face the radiant warmth you bestow on him. He's done nothing to deserve it, nothing to warrant this care, nothing that should lead you to coo your gentle praise. It all sticks in his chest worse than any bullet could.
He doesn't deserve it, can't deserve it, you should give your kindness to someone better, to someone who doesn't hoard your care for themselves like he does. It hurts. It hurts and yet the ache is intoxicating. His teeth itch to sink into you, to inflict some of the same pleasure you bring to him. As if he could ever be worthy of such a thing.
"Simon," You hum, melodic, hymnal. He feels his eyes roll with the pleasure of hearing his name before he can open them. You say it so sweetly, like he's never heard it before. His vision swims with fever, but the light halos you and you smile at him. Divinity in your every breath, he could live a lifetime in the moment when your eyes meet his.
"Love," he feels it on his breath, inaudibly whispered, just a part of his lips, a fricative against his teeth. Like any other God receiving prayer you don't hear it. It's better that you don't hear it, the casual affection doesn't fit you right. If there was a bigger word for what he feels, for what you are, he won't find it in this condition.
"Just rest," You bid him, "You can stay here tonight, if you want."
If he wants. As if he could ever want anything else. As if he could turn down an invitation to rest his head in your temple. As if he could ever have the strength to tell you no.
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cyb0rs · 10 months
Text
Astrology Observations
♡ Aries / 1st house placements individuals can barely hold a grudge esp when it comes to the people they love it breaks my heart how pure they are they can hurt you or be hurt by you and may get riled up in the heat of the moment but will forget it immediately esp once they’ve been able to communicate it with whomever they had such encounter with
♡ Also aries placements after any minor inconvenience:
♡people with gemini + 1st house or aries placements i’m praying for you and your restless asses rn. Everything about those people who have those placements in their chart at the same time is restless mind body heart and soul. Truly exhausting.
♡one thing that i personally find negative about 8th house synastry and it’s something that i don’t see anybody really talking about is how much you can forgive those who have their planets in you 8th house no matter what especially if it’s a platonic/familial relationship. Especially if it’s their moon.
♡i don’t see people talk about familial/platonic 8th house synastry because it’s just?????? It’s very confusing but i will say that it’s very deep it makes you usually love the person so much that you forgive all their mistakes and whatever they did just because you love them that much
♡libra placements can be ridiculously superficial. They’re also the type of people whose feeling are very much fleeting they can be so in love with someone and then when they’re done they can easily get up and move on and in some cases i have seen they’re incapable of having in sort of depth to them and i don’t think that it’s a very bad thing because for someone who has so many cancer placements in their chart i crave that kind of carefreeness so to say.
♡something i have noticed in intercepted charts is that the native can demonstrate all the traits for for both houses it lies in for some reason. Take for example someone that has a 29 degrees cancer rising and cancer is placed in both the 12th and the 1st house or in the 12th house only and the native also has mars in in cancer however the website calculated it in a way where the mars placement is placed in the 12th house in an early cancer degree, here the native can have both the traits of mars in the 12th house and some traits of mars in the 1st house. That’s why i sometime ditch the whole sign system.
♡Neptunian/12th house influence in a chart esp when it’s heavy makes me so sad:( they see the world in a rose tinted glass to the point where they give people the benefit of the doubt way too much even when they don’t deserve it. The world is so hazy to them sooooo so so so hazy. Praying for them fr. No matter what they’ll still be a lil confused and still living in dreamland.
♡pisces placements men except pisces sun men are adorable oh my god. Aries cancer and pisces placements men especially when they’re together in a chart creates the most adorable endearing sweetest men ever when they’re developed. Like i could cry rn:( not to mention that they’re usually soooo easy on the eye. Pretty boys typa thing ♥️
♡if anyone wants to see how an 8th house synastry can play out just watch the movie damage (1992) the guy was literally sick to his stomach and almost lost his mind. their connection was a bit taboo.
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♡leo in your chart shows where you’re envied the most. Example: if you have leo in the 2nd house people may envy you because of your belongings and anything that you own basically be it clothes jewelry properties whatever. Leo in the 4th house people can envy you because of how great your family is or your home or home life in general and so on.
♡been seening so many scorpio girls that are mean girls wannabes. It’s not working babes:( it’s ok that you’re empathetic bc at the end of the day you’re a water sign. It takes lots of nonchalance for it to be a thing for you and you’re anything but nonchalant.
♡venusian risings + cancer risings are the most beautiful in my opinion. cancer is an honorable venus baby bc of how beautiful they can be.
♡forever in love with saturnians’ bone structure esp cap risings and saturn on the asc natives<3
♡aries stellium/1st house stellium natives are not to be fucked with. When they’re developed, they’re warm blooded animals they don’t need validation bc they’re internally stable and their opinion of themselves IS what matters most yet they receive attention like it’s nobody’s business and are intimidating as hell.
♡sometimes I genuinely feel bad for people with virgo placements i can’t imagine how hard they are on themselves. You’re doing better than you think you’re doing cut yourself some slack and breathe. Sometimes it’s totally fine to do nothing and not feel bad for it. It’s also fine if you’re not perfect and yes you will be loved. And also nobody judges you or think less of you than you do to yourself.
♡sagittarius placements people esp suns are just so interesting to me. you know that scene of gina linetti from brooklyn 99 where the psychologists were evaluating her at a party? that’s literally how i feel about sags. Love yall random asses mwah.
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♡also in my perfectly sound opinion i believe that most fire placements have amazing hair not only leos. The same thing applies to water signs’ eyes.
♡pisces suns show that they care more than they actually do lol they’re about just as two faced, changeable, inconsistent as geminis.
♡pisces and sag suns are seriously the two sun signs that i feel like can move on from anything pretty quickly. even if they pretend that they’re sad it’s just for show and attention. They’re like the air signs of their respective elements haha.
♡just saw kim kardashian’s chart and noticed that she has pluto and saturn in the 10th house it could be why the world is so divided on their opinion of her and why everyone has such a strong opinion of her. It’s either they love her or deeply hate her and are annoyed by her. Either way people are talking about her. She’s also a libra with a pisces moon and a sag rising talk about fickle. I will stop here bc i could literally make this whole post about her. I might actually make another celeb birth chart reading about her.
♡idk anyone with an aries moon but i imagine it’s literally like having some sort of an unhinged mother. Literally just typing this made me feel uneasy like the energy changed immediately. Was she angry? Was she loud or domineering in the household? Did that make you feel like you’re walking on eggshells around her? I also think that this applies to ppl who have moon-mars and maybe even moon-pluto as well. Ugh it feels yucky writing this one bc if that’s the case for you the by all means cut her off completely.
♡i also feel like that people who have pisces moon can feel very bad for their mother maybe bc they’ve seen her go through some shit. And it’s bad for pisces moons bc they could sympathize with her to their detriment the way the look at the world from a hazy spectacle bc the mom could be abusive and yall would still feel sorry for her and making excuses for her action towards you. Grow some balls and get the fuck out of there or in your case eyeballs idk.
If you liked this post and want a reading with me you can check my pinned post to book your reading 🐩 I do natal and synastry readings for now <3
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chamomiletealeaf · 2 months
Note
Hey mama😚 I saw that you’re taking requests and I came RUNNINGGGGG to ask you this, so!
How do we feel the 141 men would react to being with a taller, thicker girlie that often gets insecure bc of that? This idea has been brewin for a minutee so I had to get it outta my system😭 if you’re comfortable with it too could you involve konig in it? Don’t feel pressured to ofc 😚💕
Have a good rest of your day/afternoon/night!! Xoxo💋
Hi! I love this ask! I myself am not too tall, around 5'5 (5'4" 3/4 to be exact) and I have never been very skinny, but hopefully I can do this idea justice!
warnings: afab! fem reader, smut MDNI, body worship
Price is a thigh man and he will die on that hill. He just loves your legs. Since you are taller than most girls, that just means there's more of your legs. You were Price's dream come true because not only were you tall, your thighs were so perfectly plump from how thick you were too. When he first met you when Laswell introduced you two at her wedding anniversary party, you wore a skirt that ended mid thigh, leaving just enough to his imagination, and just enough for him to get a peek at your thighs. He noticed he didn't have to break his neck looking down at you, and immediately imagined how easy it would be to kiss you. He also noticed your damn heels he thought looked so fucking sexy on you, creating the illusion of elongating your legs even further and making you taller, which just brought you closer up to his lips.
That night ended with him taking your heels off for you and slowly dragging his hands and mouth up your long legs, making every sting from snide comments about your skirt or heels melt away.
Your body is so soft in his hands and he loves squeezing you. He'll kiss you and both of his hands are immediately on your ass squeezing, making you yelp.
"Mmm. Damn lovie. This fucking arse is delicious." He'll smirk down at you while you giggle at his choice of words and his hands move down to pinch your thighs.
"And these thighs. Just wanna bite 'em up."
You always know how this goes. Whenever his hands are on you and he's talking to you like this, it always ends up with his head between your thighs.
And "bite 'em up" he does. He sucks hickeys into your inner thighs and leaves little bite marks.
"Fuck sweetheart. Look at that. A little love bite right there so you don't forget who's face belongs between your thighs."
Bonus if you squeeze your thighs around his head. It would make him cum immediately.
Price would love thigh fucking. Arguably even more than vaginal sex. Something about the way your thighs squeeze him so nicely without even trying, your slick lubing your pussy and thighs perfectly and just enough for his thick cock to slide in and out between them.
"Fuck darlin' look at that. Don't even need to press your thighs together for me to fuck them. Squeezing me so well. You're so fucking soft."
Simon is so pleasantly surprised when he first meets you. You were tall and you weren't even wearing heels which made Simon silently groan behind his mask as he thought about your long thick legs locking around his waist as he pounded into you.
Your forehead would come up right to his lips, making it so easy to kiss it, which he always took advantage of.
I feel like Simon would also just pick you up randomly. Lifting you up easily when you complain about being too tall or heavy to show you that you are not.
Most times he'll throw you on the bed and show you why your height and thickness are perfect.
"See honey, if you were short, your legs wouldn't be able to lift yourself up and down my cock so easily would they?" He says in your ear, gripping your hips while you ride him.
Or when he's fucking you in doggy with a death grip on your waist when you're feeling insecure he'll say:
"Yeah bunny just like that. Look at that perfect fuckin' ass bouncing back on me. If you were smaller I wouldn't get to grip your cute little love handles like this now would I hm? They're called love handles for a reason now aren't they?" He says between pants.
Gaz is speechless the first time he sees you. You made him feel like a nerdy schoolboy passing by his popular crush in the hallway. You were taller and bigger than most girls he's seen but that just meant there was more of you for him to love.
He loves seeing you get all dressed up, and especially when you wear fitted dresses and outfits so he can see every shape and curve of your body. He loves how his clothes can fit you just right and thinks it's so cute that you two can share clothes.
You'll try his jeans on and the length will be good enough, but you cannot slide them over the tops of your thighs and ass, making him smirk, but you look in the mirror embarrassed that you are bigger than your boyfriend.
"What's that look for?" He asks, seeing you pout in the mirror and looking behind you at your ass that won't fit in his jeans and you continue to try and pull them up, making the waist band catch under your ass which makes it jiggle with each tug.
"Keep doin' that love. Don't think you know what that view looks like from back here." He says with a full on cheeky smile now.
"Stop it Gaz." You warn him with a glare, genuinely upset his jeans won't fit.
"Aww it's ok hun." He says walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder.
"I'd rather see you without pants on anyways." He says, and you look down and away from him. Even when you're upset, he still finds a way to make you blush.
Then he'd kiss all up and down your neck, then your arms, and all down your legs pulling the jeans off. He kisses his way back up your body up to your ears and whispers:
"On the bed honey. Need to feel you."
And before you know it, you're sitting on Gaz's face while he locks your thighs around his head with his arms and you can't remember what even got you here in the first place.
"Gaz. Baby can you breathe?" You ask worriedly.
He just grunts disapprovingly and locks his arms around you harder so you don't get the idea to scoot away and you moan, feeling his head nuzzle itself deeper between your thighs.
He doesn't care if he can't breathe. You're the only air he'll ever need.
Johnny is absolutely SMITTEN when he first sees you and he's the most obvious. Mouth agape and eyes wide when Price introduces you to the task force as his niece and Gaz smacks him over the head.
Since then he's been literally obsessed with you and since you started dating, he brags to everyone about how he has the most gorgeous woman in the world.
Johnny loves when you wear heels too. Not only because it makes you taller and accentuates your long legs, but because Johnny is the shortest of the Task Force men, and when you wear heels, his eyes are perfectly aligned with your tits.
Whenever you wear heels around him he is not looking at your eyes. It takes everything in him to not just lean forward and smush his face into your cleavage. For Johnny, a bigger girl also meant bigger boobs for him to play with. He'll also come behind you and just squeeze them, reveling in how much they fill his palms. He just loves your tits so much. You'll be laying down on the couch and he's jumping right on top of you burying his face in them with a content sigh, or he'll be begging you to let him fuck them. He'll slide his cock between your tits and he will absolutely lose his mind for sure, watching how they bounce with each thrust.
For Halloween you two would be Gomez and Morticia since you are literally them in real life anyways.
You definitely feed into his mommy kink. He loves how you hold his head against his chest when he needs a snuggle and how he doesn't feel the need to be so careful handling you, and that way you can treat him like the finest porcelain doll.
König would feel elated and strangely validated since he knows what it's like to be seen as "the tall one".
And with you, for the first time, he doesn't feel so estranged. He, of course was still taller than you, but he loved how you were tall too.
He thinks it's so hot seeing you with your friends and you're taller than them. It gives him a sense of pride knowing that the most noticeable and beautiful girl in the room is his.
I feel like König would absolutely love when you give him handjobs. He's so big that the other women he's been with couldn't exactly hold him correctly or jerk him off fast enough due to his size.
But you? Since you were a little closer to his size, you made it work, two hands, and if you really tried one hand, squeezing and jerking him the way no other woman has, making him shoot cum all over himself.
And he loves how your legs can reach up on his shoulders while he fucks you in a mating press. A shorter woman would have a harder time reaching their legs over him in that position, and finally being able to do it gave him this primal urge to fuck you like he would never fuck anyone else again, not like he ever would want to since he found you.
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chenfleur · 2 months
Text
where the heart leads, the eyes follow
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summary. suddenly, jungwon is everywhere you look and part of every thought you think.
pairing. jungwon x y/n
genre. fluff, classmates to lovers, y/n inner turmoil 👍
word count. 0.9k
released. 03.05.2024
author's note. feedback is appreciated! i need to know how long it takes u guys to write drabbles i feel like i'm doing something wrong 😭😭😭 like why do they take me FOREVER
masterlist
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For some godforsaken reason, Yang Jungwon has always been there.
There. Right in your field of vision. Running the school festival's concession stand when you were craving funnel cake. Next to Nishimura Riki on the soccer field when your eyes dart to him, yet also next to Sim Jaeyun when they land on him next. Conveniently seated two columns to your left in your economics class, so when you turn to speak to your friends, you're forced to see a head of midnight hair.
It's irritating. A nuisance.
You hate how Jungwon is somehow always there, because when he is, he's the only one in the room you ever see.
His presence is permanent and permeating; it causes unfilled lesson notes and empty documents to stare up at you every class, begging for your attention while you beg for your attention to stray for once. To not leave a question set half-finished because he just carded a hand through his hair—to not feel your chest weakly twinge whenever he laughs at something his pretty desk mate said.
At some point, you begin to see Jungwon even on the days he isn't there. Even without a stimulus, you can see the lines of his figure that carve out the definition of his shoulders and the sharp inner corners of his cat-like eyes. Your brain is more familiar with the sight and thought of Jungwon than not, including him in an infinite number of mental paintings and films, as if he was as customary in your life as the changing seasons.
Life was better before this bullshit, you think in exasperation.
You hate how the subject at the forefront of your thoughts was just some boy—how he manages to seemingly go about his life so effortlessly while confusion, turmoil, fear settles in your gut.
What's going on? Is this some twisted joke? Why is he always there—
"Y/N?"
His voice comes from behind your open locker door.
You've never heard his voice this close before.
Your name sounds like honey dripping off his tongue, and yet you don't know what to think of it. The rapid beating in your chest and the uncomfortable churn of your stomach are giving you mixed signals.
Cautiously, you close the locker shut. Your voice comes out in a weak exhale.
"Jungwon."
A serene smile appears on his lips. "I wanted to say congratulations. If anyone deserved to speak at the district gala, it's you."
You blink slowly. "District gala?"
"Yeah! You got it, didn't you?"
That doesn't make any logical sense.
Sure, you'd wanted to represent your school and speak in front of the district's administration—but that opportunity has only ever rightfully belonged to one person, and he's standing right in front of you.
"I-I thought you were speaking at the gala."
Jungwon tilts his head at you in a way that makes you feel like your knees could give out. "Pretty sure the name the principal just said over the PA system sounded a lot like yours and nothing like mine," he teases, leaning against the locker next to yours.
Silence falls over the two of you while your gaze is trained on a floor tile, the process of digesting the fact that you'd be giving a speech at the district gala significantly slowed down by Jungwon's looming presence. He looks down at you, a fond speckle in his eye, before he speaks again.
"You can say no, but I have a favour to ask," he says softly. "I have a few parts of my original speech that I really want to make heard. I was wondering if you'd be willing to include them on my behalf?"
He's clutching a small piece of folded paper in between his slender fingers, holding it out for you to take.
You're sure you take way too long to react, shakily reaching out to take the paper from him. Your skin is set aflame when your fingers brush against his.
Trying to pinpoint the emotion Yang Jungwon evokes in you has led you to feel a billion different ones in the process, each one more conflicting than the last—
—and yet, in this moment, you let down your defences.
Letting yourself fall into the sea of stars behind his irises.
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Four months later, you're walking up to the stage's wooden podium, over the top of which you're greeted by an auditorium of three hundred different faces.
There's amazement, and then there's anxiety. It manifests in the dry gulp you take and the tightened grip of your hands on the sides of the podium. Your eyes frantically dart around for something to focus on, searching, searching—
Jungwon.
He's there, leaning against a far pillar with one hand in the pocket of his dress pants, and the other holding a glass of sparkling juice. There's a delicate, sterling silver charm bracelet wrapped around his wrist, a singular charm of your initial attached to it.
Your eyes flicker down to the near identical one on your own wrist, the charm with his initial glimmering under the chandelier lights.
With a clear of your throat, you redirect your gaze to the audience. Instinctively, it falls again on the boy against the far pillar.
The one with his phone camera pointed at the stage and the prettiest smile on his face.
Jungwon always seems to be there, waiting for your eyes to land on him.
Or maybe, in a room filled with people, he's the only one you've ever looked for.
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
Note
ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻
| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairings: lando x reader
ꕥ parts: 1
ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp
ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.
ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!
ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.
IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?
he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.
it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.
it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.
he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.
he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.
more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.
he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.
when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.
max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.
when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."
lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.
"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.
"I'm fine."
"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."
"I will."
"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."
lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."
"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.
"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."
he paused, "fix it 'ow?"
lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."
"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"
lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.
"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.
"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.
"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"
"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.
"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"
"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.
"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"
"when we had dinner together."
max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"
"i 'ont know."
"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.
"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.
"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.
"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.
max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"
lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery
he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"
"you truly are a muppet."
"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.
and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.
his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.
he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.
it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.
" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."
it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.
"yeah, I know."
he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.
she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.
so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.
she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.
but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.
she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.
because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.
she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.
she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.
"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."
she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.
so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.
because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.
when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.
she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.
"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.
"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.
"but I was the one who broke you with you."
he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.
" 'nd I was the one who left."
she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.
her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.
his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.
"just don't leave again."
he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.
and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.
his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.
"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.
her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"
he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."
money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.
so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.
she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.
they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.
candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.
they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.
when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.
as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.
his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.
his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.
his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.
he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.
his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.
he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.
he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.
he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.
his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.
the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.
he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.
he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.
vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.
he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.
his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.
he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.
but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.
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greenplumbboblover · 10 months
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Simblr.cc
I made a website!
Now you've probably seen the attempt before, people getting mad at tumblr and then making a 'Simblr' (Tumblr clone). Though, despite tumblr being sometimes a bit frustrating because of their changes, that's not why this site came to be...
I wanted a place where Storytellers, Creators, and just generic sim players can all be together and get the exposure and fun that they deserve.
Not only that, but also for a place where the TSM community and TS1 can belong somewhere too without the use of a forum.
And eventually, I hope we can make it the home for Life by you and Paralives when that comes out :)
Plus, it's also NSFW friendly! While the site is initially PG-13, we've got tags and profile settings that allow you to browse NSFW items as well.
Simblr.cc:
Discord:
What can I find on Simblr.cc exactly?
Anything for all sims games, really! TS1, TS2, TS3, TS4 and TSM
Practically anything you technically can find on Tumblr and really other sim websites. We've got...
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Mods
I've specifically made filters for different games, and their needs in mind. For example, for TS2 there are so many awesome game fixes out there and clean templates, that you'll be able to navigate and find this easily.
Not only that, items can also be put in multiple categories! Especially great if you've uploaded a set!
You can also find Testers wanted only mods here if you feel like helping out fellow simmers with testing!
NOTE:
Mods do go through a "queue", but not in the same way as you may have experienced on MTS or TSR. I merely check if it's flagged as NSFW correctly, and then it's good to go! :) So the waiting time will be much less!
See TOU: Click me!
Eventually, I may see if I can get a bypass system in place, but that really depends on if NSFW isn't too confusing.
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Work In Progress
To show off your work to others! Even if it's project #94882 that may never get released, any WIPS are fine!
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Stories
It's really difficult to find new Sim stories or Legacies on Tumblr, let alone for these writers to get people to read their awesome stories! Hopefully this should make the process much easier now!
Also! You got any comic or "movie/cinematic" like stories? No problem! Just check the "carousel only" option, so no description needed!
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Feed
... and for the Simblrs here, a feed to see all the people you follow, their content (stories, WIPs, mods and general posts)! Or, simply check out sitewide, or even game-related, what people have been posting!
Customizable profile pages
Just like tumblr, you can make your own profile page! With it's own colours and a pre-made theme. (if you need a different profile page, though, Let us know on the discord)
Want a peek? Here you go:
What about moderation?
While there's a report system in place, and the items in the queue are checked for NSFW, but users could still turn their non-NSFW to a NSFW, items may be stolen. So do report these as that will never be condoned!
Additionally, all comments you get on your mods, story, etc. Those are primarily moderated by you. You can delete them, you can turn comments off even if you'd like. If things really go wrong, you can always ask an admin.
Got any ideas? Feel free to share!
Since I really wanted it to be a website we all create together in some degree, if you have any features you're missing or would like to see, feel free to share on the discord!
Where are the Advertisements?
If you're currently not seeing them as of reading the post, that's because that's still being set up. This is merely to cover the cost of the website! Though, I promise you I won't bombard the site with ads, as that's just annoying.
743 notes · View notes
aceyogurt · 1 month
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Hiiii, I don't know if you write for poly, so I hope you don't feel uncomfortable with this request. (If you do, feel free to ignore it)
Can we have huskerdust x reader?
Husk and angel are overwhelmed because of their soul owners (Alastor and val) so they're neglecting reader while they're just trying to help them both.
They eventually have a fight with reader and reader sadly leaves the hotel to go to work. During midnight they came back from working with zestial (since he owns readers soul) completely wounded and exhausted since zestial wasn't in his best mood that day.
And everything just develops into a fluffy and comfortable night with angle, husk (they eventually apologize) and reader.
Hope you can do this, sorry if it's too much 😅
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Of course i can! This is my first time writing a poly relationship so I hope it meets your expectations!
Hell was a cruel place for sinners it didn’t matter how you painted it, everyone belonged to another no matter if they were weak or strong. You of course, were no exception.
You’ve been in hell for ages now (frankly you’ve lost count how long) being tied down by the owner of your soul, Zestial. While not the worst overlord to be owned by, at the end of the day he was in hell for a reason.
Recently though things have been going better for you though! See recently this hotel opened that for giving sinners a chance of redemption and such. While it might not of been something your full heartedly interested in, Zestial wanted you to go in order to keep a watch out on Alastor.
Quickly you grew fond of the other residents, even getting into a relationship with your two boyfriends, Angel dust and Husk!
But, all good things come to an end unfortunately, you were sat at the bar on one of the broken down leather stools, Husk opposite ways to you. “Another shot Wiskers!~” his brows furrowed, the distaste of that nickname was something you were well aware of, which is why you used it. “Aye what’d I tell you ‘bout using that name.” Husk barked grumpily, which cause you to chuckle.
“I know I know but, you’re so cute when you’re mad I can’t help it!” He servers you your shot as you guys continue the conversation.
Not long after Angel arrived back from work, not even bothering to say hi to guys he went straight to his room. Knowing he had a bad day at work you frown to yourself feeling bad for your lover.
“I’m going to go check on him.” You slouch off the stool gently knocking on his door before entering. “Angel..?” He was snugged up with Fat Nuggets held to his stomach.
You sit on the side of his bed reaching out to touch him but then decide it’s best not to. “Leave me alone.” Angel mumbles softly but, with edge. Your face saddens “are you sure..? If you want I can-“ “Leave, I won’t ask you again.” Your heart ached from the cruelness that his words had to it. But nonetheless you obliged and left.
You head back to the bar to report what happened to Husk which he sighs, “I’ll go check on him.” Your face is confused now “But won’t that make him more upset I mean-“ already leaving Husk doesn’t bother to respond to you.
Not even five minutes later Husk and Angel go out close as ever and you head over happy to see Angel out of his room. “Hey Angie’! Glad to see you out of your room, wanna go-“ once again you were cut off, “It’s best if he stays here tonight.” You sigh under your breath “I was just trying to help.” Angel must’ve misunderstood your tone because he snapped back, “Look toots’ I know your trying to help but, so is Husk, and if what he’s doing is working there you don’t gotta come in here and try and solve somethin that doesn’t need to be solved.”
The alcohol was definitely in your system cause you shouted back, “I’m glad that Husk is helping you, and I’m glad you help Husk! Cause fuck that’s always how it is right? One of you guys have a bad day and only the other can help cheer you up, cause they understand you? I’m right fucking here, yet you guys act like I’m not! Like I don’t understand what you’re going through! What makes me so different than you two!” Tears were swelling in your eyes.
Now Husk stepped in he wasn’t as loud as you but certainly had the same harshness. “It’s nothing against you, but our situations aren’t the same. While you go play hooky with no consequences, we’re tied to fuckin freaky face and one of the Vee’s! So cut your shit and quit whining.” You were silent for a good moment.
“So I don’t have my soul sold to an overlord, I don’t have bad experiences like you guys? Things are just nice and easy for me? I’m glad I know that’s how you feel cause I’m done.” Storming out you don’t bother to listen to anything Angel or Husk was saying as you left, it was too much.
They didn’t want you, fine you didn’t need them anyways.
You figure you can do some side work for Zestial and then go back to that shitty hotel tomorrow night. Zestial gave you some side job of getting rid of some sinners that didn’t belong on his land, which you agreed to carry out.
The sinners themselves weren’t strong but, what you didn’t expect was for them to have carmilla carmine tech. Though it didn’t give you a scary amount of trouble, one of them was able to get away.
You looked for the escapee but, to no avail they were gone, you reported this account to Zestial whom was not in the slightest of good mood. “Thee cameth here to bid me, thee e're unable to completeth one task thee hath asked for!”, while I’ll spare you the details, you got more then a small beating. You were practically an inch away form being double dead.
Wounded you crawl your way back to the hotel with shallow breaths. When you enter the hotel sounds silent, thankfully, you then painfully make your way up to your room. Curling up in your bed the same way you saw Angel just a day ago.
What you hadn’t noticed was the fact Angel and Husk were infact there watching you enter your room absolutely horrified, filled with guilt and worry. Husk was the first to enter your room.
He didn’t have any calmness to his voice and had an undertone of panic. “What the fuck happen?” His paw grazing your arm. You mumble something incoherent about Zestial tears pouring out your eyes. Husk sat there next to you for a few minutes. You then hug him, scared he’d leave, he hugged you back and you sob more.
Angel then entered seeing the seen before him he hugs the both of you and quietly, “I’m so sorry toot’s. What we said last night- it was wrong.” Hearing Angel apologize made you burst again this time a more sweet sentiment though. “I-it’s okay Angie” you guys stay like that for awhile. In each others arms with no words needed to be exchanged.
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whatstheoccasion · 10 months
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"You are the rock on which I stand, Steady me, please take my hand, Hold me now until the break of day."
— Charles Wiles.
Pirates don't help people, he used to spit. I was not born into this world to help anyone.
Yet, as the fabric of your shirt softly shifts up your skin making you shiver, Law finds himself unable to stop the hand raising his blanket, keeping you warm.
You're not just people, though, he poorly excuses himself. You're more than just anyone to him.
Which is why he pretends to not notice how clingy you get when the sun's barely peeking through the windows, warm and bright enough to make out the shape of your face, features he awkwardly traces with the tip of his fingers, finding himself needing the intimacy, this closeness with you.
He cherishes these slight pieces of yourself you only show him. Asleep, vulnerable and soft to the touch, trusting this callous man to keep your dreams safe, Law has to bite his tongue to hold himself from repeating the same three little words to you like a fool.
He chastises himself for even thinking about it.
And then you start to wake up, with bloated cheeks and messy hair, your eyes still fighting sleep, and God, it's useless, Law thinks. It's an urge too hard to resist– but he refuses to say it out loud. He's content with protecting you as it is, tightening his blanket around you and trying to fix your hair.
Will it be too much for you, he wonders, impatiently waiting for your eyes to fully open, if he physically gives you his heart to keep, to protect?
"Law?"
You shove your face further down his neck, eyes scrunching in a tender way that makes Law's hands clench and unclench with the need to touch.
He hums low on his chest in response, bringing your body closer to his. When you don't continue, eyes closing again, he grumbles out, "Morning."
He feels your smile on his neck, one sleepy kiss pressed against it. "Good morning, love."
It hurts.
Up to this day, Law's guilt clenches with a vice-like grip around his chest, reminding him how he doesn't deserve this warmth, this forgiveness you give him.
It's a hole his heart still aches to fill– this disgusting need for affection, a need he can't allow himself to ask for out loud, but one he desperately looks for anyways.
When you're out and about on a new island, linking pinkies and pressing your side against his, teasing him for his pink cheeks and burning glare.
Aflot in the Polar Bear, dragging his tired self up deck to get some much needed sun in his system, his palms tingling where your hands held him.
On nights he's blessed with your pleasure, where he's insatiable until he makes you his– unsatisfied until every part of you is marked with his name, his traces.
So when you pull him closer to you now, he doesn't say a word. He doesn't tease you like he would any other day, doesn't call you out on how your body seems to always gravitate towards his– today he's not sure if his good intentions would come clear enough, and what if one last remark is what pushes you to finally leave him for good?
Law instinctively holds you closer, letting your body soothe his restless mind. You're here. You're staying. You love him.
You hug him even tighter in your sleep, entwining your legs together, impossibly closer to eachother. He's usually not positive for anything, but you're for sure a gift from his loved ones up above, because only those who cared for him enough could guide you to him.
He has one final thought before dozing off again, as the tiny fluttering of your eyelashes on his skin and the slight rise from the waves of the New World lull him to sleep, carrying so much fondness he doesn't even put up a fight when his eyes start to drop.
His heart is staying right where it belongs.
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astrobydalia · 3 months
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Saturn🪐
by astrobydalia
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There’s a lot of emphasis on the ‘delay’ aspect of Saturn. It is true that the house where you have this planet are themes that might be delayed in your life until your Saturn return (your 30s) or until you’re mature enough (age and maturity don’t always go hand in hand). Up until then, you could struggle to find stability in these house’ themes to the point where you might think you’re not cut out to have them like everyone else since nothing here seems to come easily or naturally.
Example:
Saturn in 4th - could face early abandonment from family (emotional and/or physical). May spend a big chunk of their lives feeling like they have no support or quite literally no family. Constantly feeling rejected by the people and places they try to call home and lack a sense of belonging. Eventually they learn what it really means to become a support system for themselves and the people they love, this might have come at the expense of their own comfort, but learned to build this stability within themselves once they mature
However, that is the most forgiving manifestation of Saturn in my opinion because it can actually do the exact opposite. Saturn placement can also show themes that are imposed on you very early on and you have to stick with for a veeeeery long time until you’re ready to mature out of it or until you know better. In other words, a karmic lesson. This is because Saturn also represents burdens
Same example:
Saturn 4th - could actually have a strong bond with their family and have a stable place to call home, but they could be inseparable from family/roots in a way that is detrimental for the native. Could feel the pressure to stick up for family and what they want at the expense of their own needs which results in another form of emotional abandonment. Family is limiting, could feel like you can’t escape from them or their influence. Ultimately the lesson is the same cause it’s the same placement, but instead of learning it through trial and error like the last case, they learn it from being hands on in a less than ideal situation
There’s also a combination of both: having to deal with a certain burden because you it’s like you lack the possibility of anything better in the long run. Following the example: could be the case that your whole family is gone and you only have one relative to relay on but they’re abusive
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Saturn isn’t here to make sure your life is crap, it can actually bring blessing if you’re patient and resilient. After all it rules karma, so it eventually delivers what’s fair. That’s why Saturn’s exalted in Libra and also because the concepts of boundaries, respecting the common rules and detaching for the sake of compromise are things both Saturn and Libra understand perfectly. “time ends up placing everything where it should be”
It’s true that Saturn is tricky because it’s all about prioritizing growth over comfort. It’s about the sacrifices that make you tougher, stronger, bigger. So at its worst it actually be very bad. The shadow of Saturn is all about doing whatever it takes for growth and benefit. In the case of Capricorn that relates to climbing the social and economic ladder. For Aquarius, that’s detaching from your humanity in order to be more ‘evolved’. It has a lot to do with detaching from your heart and soul in benefit of the 3D world, that’s why Saturn is debilitated Aries, Cancer and Leo, because these signs are all about checking in with yourself and staying true to yourself and your heart so don’t like accepting Saturn’s limitations in terms of these things. I’d argue that it can even be worse than the other ‘malefic’ planet because it’s associated to all of the things that can be devastating for any human in a permanent basis: loneliness, depression, coldness, abuse of power (saturn=limits, control, authority)
On the flip side, Saturn at its best represents everything a healthy person needs: stability, structure, boundaries, the barriers that keep you protected and responsibility. The growth over comfort motto is actually positive when channeled healthily. As we all know, in order to mature and be a better person, we have to take responsibility and compromise some of our comfort zone, we need to learn to ‘tame’ and take control of ourselves and that’s not always a walk in the park but it’s worth it at the end. This is what helps you build a solid ‘you’ and that’s what Saturn can teach you. Saturn also represents the matrix, the rules and limits of this big game so at its best, it can be the most helpful planet when it comes to teaching you how to navigate this world and to grow from your lessons. It other words it can help you manifest!!!! Saturn gives you clues on what you can do to materialize what you want, how you can translate things into reality
Saturn is actually very rewarding and liberating in the long run if you embrace the process of growth and take responsibility for yourself in the themes it is influencing in your chart. It gets to point in your life were Saturn’s like “yeah it is what it is. It sucks. Too bad. But the ball’s in your court now, what are you gonna do?”
Anyways this was a little spontaneous ramble of my thoughts. As always, don’t hesitate to share yours :)
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by astrobydalia
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grammarpedant · 4 months
Text
I want to kill you.
Here's the point of the Combat SecUnit's character in Exit Strategy:
being a person =! being a kind person.
Murderbot's repeated choices to care about other people, to act compassionately on its instinctive empathy, to wrestle with its violent or anti-social impulses even when it would be easier to give in, are made more meaningful because it COULD have decided NOT to do that. It could have decided it didn't care. It could have decided to keep following orders forever. It could have decided to kill people to make itself feel better. It could have decided it wants to kill you. It could have been the Combat SecUnit.
"Is that why you stayed?" I could have lied. I didn't want to. "Mostly," I said. I looked at her with my actual eyes again. "I wanted to win."
I talk a lot about how compassionate Murderbot is, but I cannot, cannot overemphasize that this compassion is in defiance of its less pleasant character aspects. Murderbot's like Sam Vimes[1] in that way- an angry asshole with a suspicious-bastard streak for whom violence is an instinctive paradigm to operate within. And that instinct is easy to gloss over in Murderbot because it rarely gives in to excessive violence as much as you'd expect. Nevertheless, the anger and violence are still very much there: "But I still kind of wanted to stay here and just destroy things belonging to Palisade and GrayCrisSec until they destroyed me." "You need to be calm, to take over a gunship." It contemplates quietly killing Wilken by suffocating her in her own power armor. It taking bloody vengeance on the Targets. Overall, not unlike Vimes, Murderbot is still a kind person--but not a nice one. And it's not kind because it's easy to be kind. Murderbot is a person, and being kind is in the actions that a person chooses to make.
See, if constructs are people, if they can have agency and self-determination and the freedom to choose, then that means they can choose to be unkind people, too. They AREN'T beholden to their base programming any more than genetics or circumstances of birth determine a human's destiny. ("You're not programmed to watch media.") There are infinite arrays of kinds of people that constructs could be, and that includes people who really ARE just genuine assholes, too- those who are cruel and short-sighted and callous, who follow their worst impulses and desires without a second thought, who may have been trapped in terrible situations that mold them towards cruelty... but who are nevertheless responsible for the choices they can make, and who choose not to challenge or escape that cruelty.
That's the point of the Combat SecUnit, as a character. It's a narrative foil to Murderbot. It reminds us that self-determination isn't pretty. In one of the only pieces of agency that the CSU has in its short appearance in Exit Strategy, it serves to reflect Murderbot's most violent and self-/destructive tendencies and to highlight Murderbot's character in their differences.
With every ounce of self-expression that it has, from the message packets it sends mid-battle to the last blow it throws at the barrier after it closes, Combat SecUnit says with its whole chest that it would rather continue to be part of the system that both victimizes it and makes it complicit in capitalist abuse, than even consider the idea of freedom. And that is something that Murderbot could've chosen, too! That Murderbot chooses instead to break free, to care, to grab for self-determination and escape from abuse with both hands and make something compassionate out of that even though that was really fucking hard, is made more meaningful because the Combat SecUnit doesn't even try.
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