#'i can still hear you saying we would never break the chain'
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The Chain by Fleetwood Mac
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#stranger things#bizarre love triangle playlist#el hopper#els pov#fleetwood mac#there are a lot of el coded fleetwood mac songs holy shit#but this one whew#'damn your love damn your lies'#GET HIM!#âand if you don't love me now (you don't love me now) you will never love me againâ#it's basically a big testament to the fact that this is a big fight you can't come back from#if after all of this time after him already apparently saying it and after her saying it to him and writing it to him...#him not being able to say it even when she's practically giving him an ultimatum#then that must mean it's never going to happen#'i can still hear you saying we would never break the chain'#'you can't let these mouth breathers ruin you. ruin us! they're nobodies. they're nobodies! and you're a superhero!'#i just realized that mike corrects himself from you to us....... makes the whole what about us line from will hit different#knowing he tries to use it on el later to attempt to make them more romantic when in reality.........#he is trying really hard here#he's trying to dance around what she wants him to say without outright saying it#but el's not having it#not anymore#'chain keep us together'#begging 'the chain' to keep you together... it doesn't get much more forced conformity than that folks#4x03#gif
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you see me on a bus. i am sitting by myself, looking sad. bass thumps from my headphones. a solitary tear trickles down my cheek. my ofmd playlist has just reached The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.
#ofmd#our flag means death#the chain#âif you donât love me now/then you will never love me again/I can still hear you saying/we would never break the chain"#I mean come on#fleetwood mac
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You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but theyâre actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.
Clumsy in Love Part 2
Itâs hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesnât seem to need to take a breather between his praises.
âCanât believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!â He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.
The van swerves a bit to the left.
âHeâs just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest greenâ I donât think thereâs any precious stone that can compare actually.â
He beams at him and Steveâs traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.
Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddieâs love-struck smile is for him.
âAnd, to top it off, heâs a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? Iâm no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.â
His name is Adiel, Eddieâs perfect guy.
Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.
Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.
Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he mustâve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.
He wasnât decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.
Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.
Getting it.
Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.
They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. Heâs trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddieâs happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.
âI met his friends already, theyâre a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. Thereâs a whole world out there, Stevieââ
Stevie. His breath stutters.
âOf people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that wonât, that wonât think weâre⊠wrong. And who knows,â he nudges Steveâs side with a suggestive smile, âmaybe youâll meet the one there, huh Stevie?â
âStop. Just, just stop!â
Steve doesnât mean to yell. He just canât take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just canât. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.
âI donât want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I donât get it, okay! I thoughtââ
What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That theyâd kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. Thatâs what hurts the most.
âHey, Stevieââ
âDonât call me that! You donât get to call me that anymore.â
âWhat? Your name? You donât want me to call you by your name?â
A bitter laugh, âyeah. My name from your mouth.â
âI, Youâre not making any sense!â
Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy⊠even his own name, canât bear to hear them. Not from him. Canât bare the way his heart squeezes.
Eddieâs looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?
Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steveâs life.
Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steveâs breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddieâs lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. Heâs tasted Eddieâs blood before from his mouthâ
Heâs kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddieâs once more, but this time theyâre warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,
Theyâre pushing him. Away.
âEddie,â his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. âI, it hurts. You with him. I canâtâI just canât.
And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steveâs face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if heâs really shattered inside.
âIâm sorry, I⊠I didnâtâŠI donâtâŠâ
And Steve?
Steve smiles. Itâs watery and his lips quiver.
âI know.â And thatâs the problem, isnât it. Itâs always the problem. âI know, Eddie. Iâm sorry. Itâs, itâs okay.â
Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.
Thereâs still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.
Part one < đ > Part 3
Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath
#clumsy in love#steddie#steddie headcanon#steddie prompt#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#steddie fic#bee speaks
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Little Bit
Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader
â-
synopsis: georgia keeps coming back to you.
a/n: georgia said she liked this song and i coincidentally like this song too (actually lol) so here we are đ„°
Little Bit - Lykke Li
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, mentions of a slight injury, the usual swearing, reader and georgia are exes and ended on bad terms, the bad terms being that georgia never had enough time for r, no cheating here dw!!!! despite the rumors⊠sigh, girl idek if this would work, UMMM WE GET FREAKY, making out, mentions of sex⊠yeahâŠ, lmk if i missed anything!!!
â-
âHello? Who is it?â
Itâs dark. Itâs 10:54pm. You have to rub some of the sleep from your eyes.
Whoever is knocking at the door is panicked. You can hear it in the way they knock- theyâre nervous, maybe. Something is wrong. They knock too fast, too hard. Not like theyâre in a hurry, but more so like they wish the door wasnât there in the first place.
âCan I come in?â
Fuck.
You know that voice, even if itâs through a door.
âGeorgia,â you sigh, hand on the doorknob, not quite opening it yet. You can hear her let out a small sound thatâs a cross between a begging plea and a scoff, then the shuffling of feet.
âPlease, Y/N.â
You loved her for so long. You still love her. Maybe some part of you will always love her, and youâll just have to grow around the mark she made.
You open the door just wide enough for the chain lock to be pulled taut, finally laying eyes on her- she looks like a shell of herself.
âGeorgia?â You ask, your brows furrowing, eyes wide in shock.
âY/N,â she says your voice so sweetly. âCan I please come in?â
You look around her, but sheâs in the empty hallway of your apartment building. Thereâs no one there. You donât know how she got here, you donât know what happened- but you know she came here. She came to you.
âI just really need you right now,â she says, and your heart breaks at the sound of tears in her voice, and suddenly you can see them shining so brightly in her eyes like stars.
You probably shouldnât let your ex in. Especially not when sheâs in such a vulnerable state like this, and youâve been thinking about her more often then you care to admitâŠ
âWhat happened?â You finally ask, voice small. She stays silent. âDid it- a game? Did something happen at a game?â
Your eyes suddenly widen and you tug on the door, forgetting the chain is there- âAre you hurt?â
âNo,â she says, wiping something from her eye. âIâm fine. Please, Y/N, I know⊠okay. I know, but I still need you.â
You stumble over the words.
âW-weâre not da-dating. Weâre not dating.â
âI know,â she says, kind of sadly, kind of resigned. âI just need you.â
If she says that sentence to you one more time you might actually break down and love her again. Love her, really, fully. But you canât do that. The only way you can love her is secretly, in a tender part of your heart she had carved out so lovingly, and eventually left with scars.
And maybe⊠maybe you can love her in the darkness of your apartment.
You probably shouldnât do this. But youâll deal with that guilt later.
âYou can always come here,â you whisper, shutting the door softly, almost like sheâs a wild, scared animal that will run away at any movement too loud or sudden. You unhook the lock. The chain falls, it hits against the door.
You tighten your hand on the doorknob, about to pull it open- but you donât have too. The door suddenly slams open, Georgia bursting in through the door like water through a broken dam- because you swear thatâs what this night feels like. Thatâs what every interaction you have with her feels like. A dam- your resolve- breaking, and her rushing in past the broken pieces, taping you up behind her.
She wraps her arms around your waist, just like she used to do, and puts her face into your neck, just like she used to do.
It takes a second for the world to come back into focus, for your body to process the feeling of her skin on yours again, suddenly your hearing comes back and you hear the sounds of soft sobs. Tears are falling down, wetting your skin- but you canât be bothered.
âGeorgia,â you whisper, finally wrapping your arms around her after a moment of shock. âWhat happened?â
She shakes her head, cries a little harder- and immediately tries to stop herself and choke it back.
âHey, hey,â you whisper, softly placing your hand into her hair and playing with the thick locks there, like you always used to do. âItâs okay, b- Georgia. Itâs okay, you donât have to talk about it. I can just hold you for a while?â
She nods, after a tense second.
âI can do that,â you continue, still whispering. She once told you that she liked your voice.
âKeep talking,â she whispers, her voice thick and scratchy.
âOkay,â you say, letting out a breath.
You feel like a lighthouse letting a ship know where the port is. You feel like Orpheus trying to lead Eurydice out of the underworld with just his voice, trying to lead Georgia back to herself from wherever dark place she is.
âI had McDonaldâs for dinner,â you blurt out. âIt was really good. Itâs Friday, I wanted to treat myself. Um, I had a pretty hard week. Just school wise. I had, like, three tests this week. Studying was rough, but I survived. I was watching the Office before you knocked. It was that one episode where Micheal goes into the woods and tries to survive on his own- I donât know, it was funny. But Dwight followed him out, and, um, yeah. It was funny. I miss you.â
Her tears have dried by now.
âIâm sorry,â she whispers.
And itâs suddenly so right that youâre standing in front of your doorway, holding her in the faint glow of the TV.
âDonât be. Iâm glad you came here. Would rather you here than the streets,â you laugh, dryly.
âIâm sorry,â she repeats, because you both know sheâs not really sorry about coming here, but for some reason- neither of you have the heart to say it.
And you canât tell her itâs okay. You canât say itâs fine.
Softly, like sheâs made of glass and youâll break her, you press a kiss to her hairline.
âCome lay down with me?â You try to sound convincing, but itâs a question.
âYeah,â she mumbles, and your stomach drops back down from where it had jumped to your throat in anticipation.
Your heartbeat increases at the thought of getting to sleep next to her again, knowing youâre about to sleep so good next to her, touching her skin. The TV continues to glow, continues to talk in low voices.
You softly let go of her, hand drifting to hold hers, watching as she wipes her tears.
She doesnât need you to guide her to your bed. She knows where it is, but you take her there anyways with a hand thatâs maybe a little too tight. But her grip is just as tight.
You know sheâll leave before you wake up.
She canât face you in the light. And thatâs fine, because you canât really face her in the light either.
She squeezes your hand. You squeeze back.
It feels a little bit like you never broke up.
â-
Everything is a giant fucking blur.
Itâs so dark in here, all of the lights are turned off, and it feels more like a rave of some sort instead of a random frat party. They have these stupid neon strobe lights going, making green and yellow flash obnoxiously over everything- making it kind of hard to see. Making it kind of hard to keep the contents of your stomach actually inside of your stomach.
Youâre supposed to be with your friends, celebrating one of your friendâs friend breaking up with her boyfriend who was apparently cheating on her, and the entire time all you could think about was your breakup with Georgia.
And the weeks before you finally toughed up and broke up with her- the weeks where you never saw her, where she forgot about you.
You head towards the counter strewn with half-empty bottles of liquor and red solo cups. You grab one thatâs hopefully unused, mixing yourself up some random concoction that will definitely taste like shit, but you hope that you canât think about her anymore if you drink too much.
You werenât stupid, despite what someone may think- watching you spill a perfectly good bottle of vodka over the side of the cup, you really donât have good hand-eye coordination right now- youâre not stupid. You knew it was going to be hard dating a D-1 athlete, you knew you would come third, and you were completely fine with that.
You didnât get mad when she came home from practice and simply kissed you on the cheek before collapsing into bed, you honestly found it kind of sweet- because she would drag you into bed with her, beg you to run your fingers through her hair, or massage her aching muscles.
You didnât get mad when she choose to spend one of her rare free nights with her friends- you were a little jealous in the moment, but the pictures she posted on Instagram with the biggest smile on her face made up for her.
You did get mad when she just stopped coming over, when suddenly your bed was too far, not even the promise of your soothing hands could get her to come back to your place. You did get mad when she didnât answer you for days. You did get mad when you told her you were feeling a little neglected, and then cancelled last minute on your date she had planned- not for any reason, except to go shoot hoops by herself in an empty gym, drilling herself.
You did get mad when you spent every night alone without her.
You put the bottle back down, lifting the red solo cup and taking a big sip.
No. You canât do this. You canât feel like this, not tonight.
You take another sip, and another, until suddenly youâre floating through the dance floor and sticky alcohol is splashed on your front, and you canât really see straight, and everything is kinda hazy and beautiful.
You find your friends in the crowd, downing the rest of your drink before crushing it in your hand and throwing it somewhere, hands in the air as you dance loudly and unapologetically.
You dance until your feet scream at you, your heels digging into your feet, following your friends through the crowd until you lose them, you canât see them anymore.
Tears well in your eyes. Your breathing picks up.
âY/N!â A bright and cheery voice exclaims.
Oh, itâs Liz.
âLiz,â you say, your voice not sounding like your own.
Her face quickly turns to one of concern. She takes in your slightly rucked up outfit, your teary eyes, the sweat pouring down your face.
She puts her hand on your shoulder, leaning down close to your ear so you can hear her.
âWhy donât you come with me?â
Okay, you start to say- but where Liz is, Georgia will be.
âNo-â
âBloody hell, Y/N.â
Your eyes widen at the sight of your ex-girlfriend.
âNope,â you say, popping the p, laughing a little. âNope, nope, nope. I need my friends, not you.â
You can tell Georgia is a little hurt by that, but she doesnât back down. Liz stands kind of awkwardly to the side of you, but you keep yourself pressed against her and as far away from Georgia as you can.
You love her, youâre drunk, and sheâs looking really kissable right now.
âWell, I donât see your friends,â she shoots right back. âDo you?â
Her tone is a little condescending.
âOh, shut up,â you say in disgust, taking a step forward- in your head, youâre gonna knock into her shoulder and strut past her. Hopefully sheâll even look at your ass as you leave.
Instead, youâre drunk, you donât have your footing, youâre in godforsaken heels- and you careen forward, right into her waiting arms.
She sighs as she wraps an arm around your shoulder, her other hand immediately going to hold your hip.
She pretends to be annoyed.
Youâre not surprised by this act, she was so vulnerable last week when she came over and said she needed you, cried in your arms- and youâre putting on this bratty act because youâre mad at yourself for letting her in.
But in your drunk state, you can feel her skin on yours so vividly, and you can feel the way her fingers slightly curl into you. Greedy. Possessive, almost. You fall into her and you let her take you, and suddenly sheâs taken it upon herself to make sure youâre okay all-too easily. ïżŒ
âOkaïżŒy. câmon,â she sighs, like itâs some big inconvenience to her, but she slides her arm around your waist and holds to her so quickly, again so possessively.
And you would be lying if you said you never felt as safe as you do when her arm is around you.
âIâm fine,â you hiss at her, trying to push her off of you- but she doesnât really want to let go, and neither do you. She simply tightens her grip, and you simply stop fighting.
She brings you to a much quieter, much emptier part of the house, helping you sit on a couch before asking Liz to find you some water- or just anything that wasnât alcohol.
âHow much did you drink?â She asks when she sits down next to you, putting her hand on your back. You sit with your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands, staring at the floor intently.
âA lot,â you mumble.
She laughs softly in response.
âDo you feel okay?â
Her thumb is rubbing back and forth against your back. Fuck, fuck, you lost your friends and now sheâs so close and so far, and itâs so dark in this room- you can barely see a few feet in front of you.
It feels so secret- because everywhere else music is blasting. But in here, itâs just your voice and hers.
Tears well in your eyes yet again.
Maybe you should stop drinking. It makes you too goddamn emotional.
You turn to her.
You canât face her in the light. But here, itâs so dark.
Sheâs let her hair down tonight. She almost never wears her hair down, so youâre kinda shocked- and you kinda wanna run your fingers through the waves.
âWhyâre you here?â You ask, words muddled by alcohol.
She shrugs. âJust for fun.â
âYou donât know how to have fun,â you accuse.
She laughs, scrunches her nose. Itâs all kinda condescending, still. Like youâre some little girl who doesnât really know anything.
âYeah, I do.â
âYou never had any fun with me.â
She looks away.
âSo itâs me, then? Iâm the problem?â
âYouâre not the problem, Y/N.â
You roll your eyes. âFuck you.â
âDonât be a brat,â she scolds.
Her? Scolding you?
You narrow your eyes. âFuck. You. Youâre selfish as shit, and Iâm glad I broke up with you everyday.â
Saying that feels like youâre coughing up your organs, but whatever.
She smiles, scratching her nose.
âYeah, sure. Whatever.â
âWhatever,â you echo.
She rolls her eyes. âFuckinâ brat.â
âYou can leave. You know that, right? You donât have to stay here. I canât imagine how hard it must be to sit on the same couch as a âbratâ like me.â
âIâm not gonna leave.â
You find yourself inching closer to her.
âScared of the dark or something, Amoore?â
Suddenly her eyes meet yours.
âOh, no. I know what youâre scared of.â
She leans back against the couch, adjusting her legs, arms out wide along the back of the couch.
âReally?â She laughs. Genuinely laughs, as if the idea of you something knowing personal about her is so unbelievable.
Suddenly, you swing your leg over hers and climb into her lap. You straddle her, hands pressing into her shoulders as she stares at you in shock.
âY/N,â she says, swallowing- suddenly not so cocky anymore. âY/N.â
âYeah?â You ask, twirling a piece of her hair. âNeed to me to talk some more? âCause you love my voice so much, right?â
She puts her hands on your thighs and barely tries to push you off. She could, if she really wanted to. Sheâs strong. You love her arms.
âIâm really drunk,â you confess, still twirling with a piece of her hair. You can feel her gaze on your pouted lips. âIâm probably not gonna remember this in the morningâŠâ
âY/N.â Itâs a very clear warning, but you push past it. Thereâs something between your thighs and a burning desire in your stomach.
âMaybe you should show me why I shouldnât be a brat.â
Her hand moves up from your thigh to cup your waist.
âFuck, princess.â
âYeah?â You say, feeling kinda like a giddy schoolgirl at the way she hungrily rakes her eyes up your body, finally landing on your lips. You bite one of them- and the alcohol prevents you from feeling kinda silly, and you can see it on her face. The way she wants you right now.
âBloody hell,â she whispers, finally leaning forward to place a kiss to your bare chest. She lets her lips linger, and you know you have her right under your thumb- but now itâs not about the power play.
Now itâs about how fucking badly you want her to touch you.
âTouch me,â you say, hoping she doesnât tease you about the fact youâre practically begging for her, but she seems to want to touch you just as bad. âTouch me, Georgia, please.â
âShh,â she whispers, before finally pressing her lips to yours.
It feels a little bit like you never broke up.
â-
Itâs annoyingly bright. And loud. Your eardrums might burst.
And in all honesty, you never really understood basketball all that well.
You kinda hate this entire thing.
You sigh, leaning back farther into your chair as a buzzer sounds and people cheer- and you straighten up only to realize that itâs just the first quarter.
Itâs only been 10 minutes?
Your friends are all super into the game, of course, and itâs not like you donât like supporting the girls on the team- Liz Kitley, at least, you still consider her to be one of your friends.
Having to watch Georgia completely command the court is probably one of the hardest things youâve ever had to do. The way sheâs so completely in her element, her hair tied back and sticking to her forehead and neck with sweat- you find yourself wanting to lick her skin.
You shake your head and groan, trying to physically get the annoyingly horny thoughts out- but, fuck. All you can think about is the last time you saw her.
The way her hands trailed your skin so hungrily, getting lower and lower, and the feeling in your stomach that felt suspiciously like an actual fire coming to a burning climax before slowly coming back down, reassured by her sweet kisses.
The way she held you that night was possessive. She made you feel like hers. The way she kissed you that night was like she had been starved of you for years, and thought about you every second.
Your friend nudges you. âStarinâ real hard.â
âIâm not,â you hiss, but you know you are.
âNo, itâs okay,â she laughs. âI support it. You both miss each other.â You roll your eyes, but she doubles down. âYouâre both still in love with each other, babe.â
Some odd emotion takes root in your chest. It squeezes.
âIâm not in love with her. Iâm just⊠in like with her.â
âMhm,â she says with a smile. âWell, weâll all be here to celebrate when you guys finally admit it.â
âJane, shut up.â
She nudges you again with a teasing smile. âI saw those suspicious looking bruises on your hips after that one party you both disappeared at⊠I might even say those suspicious bruises were kinda⊠Georgia shaped.â
âShut. Up. Jane.â You narrow your eyes, and she only smiles widely before laughing and turning back to the game.
âTake your time, babe. Take your time.â
From what you understood, this was the Elite Eight game for the Hokies, and it was kind of a big deal. This game was the one that worked best in your and your friends schedules, and the stadium wasnât exactly that far, so you came to have fun with them. To support your school, and Liz, and watching Georgia sink a few threes was an added guilty pleasure of a bonus.
You continue watching, your eyes staying mostly on #5.
Surprisingly, you arenât watching when she gets hit.
Youâve actually managed to tear your eyes away from her and focus on the ball- when suddenly your friends gasp.
You look around the court, eyes finally landing on someone in a Hokie jersey laying on their back, face in their hands.
Someone in a red jersey walks past her, revealing a head of hair you know is Georgiaâs.
You straighten, practically jumping out of your seat, your leg immediately staring to bounce up and down in anxiety.
âGet up,â you mumble to yourself. âBe okay. Get up. Youâre fine, please. Please get up.â
She doesnât get up. When you see the athletic trainers step onto the court you stand up quickly.
Jane is watching it from next to you, still sitting down, biting her nails- she looks up at you.
âHey, Y/N, calm down,â she says, grabbing your hand. Squeezing, trying to bring you back to reality.
âOh, fuck,â you mumble as Jane pulls herself to stand. âThey have to help her off? She canât walk herself? W-whereâd she even get hit? I didnât see, I- I-â
âY/N.â
Jane grabs your shoulders.
âTake a deep breath⊠wipe your tears⊠and go get your girl.â
You follow the first two steps but falter at the third.
âWhat?â You mumble, bringing your hand down from your face.
She looks towards the court, and thatâs when you realize sheâs walking right past you to get to the locker rooms.
Youâre thankfully at the end of the aisle, so you carefully make your way down the stairs, to the barricade, kinda feeling like youâre floating. Now that sheâs at least up you feel a little better, your tears are starting to dry.
All you want to do is make sure sheâs okay.
And even though sheâs not yours, and you only love her in the dark- you need to know.
Besides⊠itâs been two weeks since youâve felt her skin on yours.
âGeorgia!â You call, hands on the barricade bracing yourself. âGeorgia!â
You probably didnât even need to call a second time, because she turns towards you.
A security guard steps in front of you with a large hand, asking you to please get back to your seat- you lock eyes with Georgia.
Her chin. Itâs bright red and slightly swollen.
Silently, you ask her to please let you in- but she keeps walking, two athletic trainers helping her.
âMaâam, please get back to your seat,â the guard says again.
Does she regret that night at the party? Is this feeling in your chest ever since Jane said she was in love with you hope? And it is being crushed now?
âOkay,â you mutter, feeling tears form in your eyes tenfold.
âYouâre Y/N?â One of the athletic trainers has run over to you. The security guard gives her a look, but she glares right back.
âYeah?â
âGeorgia asked for you, câmon.â She beckons you to follow her-
âReally?â
âYes,â she deadpans. âShe said she needed you. I donât care what she needs, as long as she checks out, I want her to get back out there.â
âMe too,â you nod, sensing this lady took her job very seriously.
âWell câmon then,â she sighs, patting the barricade, encouraging you to hop it. The security guard rolls his eyes and walks away, and you quickly clamber over the barricade and follow the woman- who walks very fast.
âDid she really say that she needed me?â
Your voice sounds like a stupid Disney princess.
The smallest smile makes its way into her face.
âYes. She said she needed you.â
Georgia needs you.
You enter the locker room full of fluorescent lights, squinting as your eyes adjust and the door shuts behind you.
Sheâs sitting on a bench, her fists clenched as the other trainer softly holds her face to look at the mark already forming.
Georgia needs you.
You softly sit next to her, and it takes her a second to finally notice you out of the corner of her eye- an eye which is scrunched up in pain.
âGeorgia,â you whisper. Her hand is shaky when you grab it. âWhat happened?â
âI think everyone saw,â she mumbles. You brush back some hair sticking to her forehead.
âI was actually playing attention to the ball, so, I didnât.â
âYou paid attention to basketball?â
âWell, not very well. But I tried.â
You move closer to her so your thighs are touching, her hand squeezes yours as she turns her head- and you spot the bruise on her chin.
âShe got me in the chin.â
âJesus Christ,â you gasp, looking up wide eyes to the atheistic trainer. âIs it normal to be a bruise already- God, is your jaw broken? Are you okay?â
Georgia and the trainers all let out a laugh, and you feel kinda silly, but Georgia squeezes your hand as if to reassure you. You feel a little bit better.
âCompletely normal,â the woman before explains. âAnd, a little tip, usually if people are talking- jaws arenât broken.â
âOh, whatever,â you mumble, feeling your cheeks get a little hot. One of the trainers hands you an ice pack.
You.
âYouâre medically checked out. Ice it for a minute, catch your breath, and youâre ready to go back out there if you want to.â
âOkay, thanks,â Georgia nods, smiling tightly- but you can hear it in her voice. The weight of it all. The pressure.
âWeâll give you a minute alone,â the trainer says, kind of suggestively, but you force yourself to ignore that as her and her colleague let the door shut behind them.
You softly press the ice pack to her chin. She shuts her eyes, and you can tell sheâs willing herself not to cry.
âDoes it hurt a lot?â Itâs kind of a stupid question, but you canât think of anything else to say.
âNo. Itâs not too bad.â Her eyes shut, and you place your other hand on her jaw to steady yourself. She lets out a breath.
âHey, itâs okay,â you whisper, hand moving to smooth back her ponytail.
âMm- no, no. Iâm fine. I just need you right now.â
And itâs in moments like this, when Georgia says she needs you, when sheâs touching you and looking to you for comfort⊠this is how you know youâll never be able to fully tear yourself away from her.
Sheâll always run back to you. And youâll always let her, with open arms.
You kind of want to ask her what needing you means. But you donât.
âI should get back out there,â she says. Sheâs whispering, like this moment will break.
âYeah,â you agree, swallowing.
âYeah.â
You meet her eyes again, and her pupils are slightly blown, she looks a little breathless-
âOh, to fuck with it.â
She slams her lips onto yours, hands cupping your face and keeping you pressed close to her, the ice pack falling and your hands immediately winding around her neck- this is how you need her. You need her hungry and kissing you. You need her touching you and loving you.
She needs you to comfort her and you need her to fuck you.
Any shyness you had is long replaced, especially when one of her hands drifts down to squeeze your ass, making you moan her name into her mouth.
The kiss is disgusting, messy, kind of dirty.
âThereâs so much riding on this game,â she breathes out when you move down to kiss her neck.
âI know,â you mumble back against her skin. âBut youâre so talented.â
âYeah,â she agrees, tilting her head back. âI only forget about it when Iâm with you.â
Her hand drifts down to your neck, and she pulls you away to start kissing down yours, both of you careful to not leave marks- but you can feel her kissing a little harder then she should.
Youâll probably be leaving this place tonight with at least one faint mark on your neck. And the thought thrills you.
âReally?â You gasp. âMaybe you should stop fucking me over and spend more time fucking me.â
âI will,â she whispers against your skin, leaving one final kiss on the mark you could feel her forming. âI promise I will.â
âGood,â you say back, trying to sound confident. But she looks into your eyes, her ponytail messy from when you had tugged on her hair, and completely melt.
âSorry,â she mumbles, pointing awkwardly to the hickey. But you know sheâs saying sorry for more than that.
You cover it with your hair. âItâs okay, I guess.â
âIâll make it up to you,â she smiles, a little wickedly.
âPlease.â
âI really have to go back now,â she stands up, rubbing her jaw. âSorry- shit. You distracted me.â
âSorry,â you shrug.
âI really gotta go before I kiss you again.â
You smile. You smile so big and she smiles right back.
âWell, now youâre definitely gonna win because youâre all fired up, huh?â You stand up, following her to the locker room door.
âDefinitely.â
She doesnât promise to text you or anything, and you donât mind. You know sheâll come back.
You smile softly instead of saying goodbye, and she stares at you kinda in amazement for a second before shaking her head and running right back over to the game.
It feels a little bit like you never broke up, but youâre kinda glad you broke up.
â-
#georgia amoore#georgia amoore x reader#georgia amoore x you#georgia amoore x fem#wbb fanfiction#wbb x reader
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omg can u do an angel dust x masc/male! reader ans husk x gn! reader (or huskerdust x masc/male reader either or is fine) that is basically the hozier song too sweet âčïžâčïž i think the song would work so well for them, esp since they both think that their partner could do so much better than them??
sorry if this ask is a little confusing đ my brain isnt working correctly
Sweet
HuskerDust x Male!Reader
TW: ANGST
A/N : I LOVE YOU SO MUCH- I WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR SO LONG BUT KEPT PUTTING IT OFF-Â Â
Husk sat behind the bar watching Angel as he was on his phone, it was too early for him to be up but Alastor and Charlie had pulled him awake for some odd reason. Which had subsequently made Angel wake up and go with him, you had yet to be awake or you were already awake just too busy. He didnât really know. It wasnât until the doors opened and you walked in still in your work clothes from yesterday, did you even sleep at all last night?
He watched you walk over, pressing a kiss to Angel's cheek as you slid them both coffee. âYou sure you arenât an angel, sweets?â Angel hummed as he held the coffee closer to himself and you chuckled, âNo, I just know when you both wake up you both are grumpy until an hour later.â You hand Husk the steaming cup of coffee, âThank you, Babe.â he grumbled out as you shot him a wink and grabbed your cup before excusing yourself to get busy with working.Â
âHe may not be an angel but heâs a fucking life savor.â Angel smirked at Husk, who only nodded and sipped at the coffee. Husk watched your form disappear down the hall, both menâs hearts were sent fluttering hearing your laughter echo down the halls of the hotel. Even if it was early, you were bright and bubbly as ever. Something that took even Husk to see, you were too sweet for both of them.Â
~~~
Angel was never good at his emotions especially now when he was on a fucking chain. He hated being pitied and he even hated it when people tried to downplay his sufferings. So when he was pissed he did everything he could to strike hard and fast, pulling out the shittiest part of someone else and using it against them, allowing the venom to lace his tongue as he talked with so much anger that he was sure heâd break himself.
He stays away from his phone when working, he doesnât need Valentino to find out about you and Husk, heâs scared to find out what heâd do. He knows you worry, he knows but heâs just focused on getting the job done to get home to you both, his loving boyfriends. Once he gets back to the hotel he immediately goes to the bar, Husk checks in on him softly while pouring him a drink. Soft whispers as Husk holds one of Angelâs many hands. Angel teared up as he felt you hug him from behind, the glass of whiskey in his hands shook, he was so tired.
 âWant me to run a bath?â You had asked softly, no hint of pity anywhere in your voice. Only the question that made his heart swell up in happiness. He sent a wordless nod towards you and Husk who had now busied himself to clean up the bar for the night. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder carefully squeezing him into a hug before quickly making your way up the stairs to start a bath for him. He sipped on the whiskey, allowing it to burn his throat as it went down, â..how did we end up pulling the sweetest demon this side of hell?â He asked, watching as Husk only glanced back for a second busy making sure the bottles were actually locked up. Charlie had made it into a rule so no one could steal any at night.
âI donât know but Iâm not afraid to say itâs a miracle.â He replied standing up to his full height to stretch his wings out with a yawn, âCâmon, Angie..letâs go get you a bath and some well deserved cuddles.â He whispered, holding his hand out to Angel, who graciously took it after knocking back the rest of the whiskey. âHe could do better than us..â Angel whispered as Husk wrapped an arm around him, guiding him up the stairs. â..I know..â Husk whispered out his wings folding onto his back.
~~~
As you all laid in bed, you snuggled between both men as you carefully rubbed Angelâs back as Husk curled up behind you purring loudly. Both men dead asleep as you stayed up admiring them both. Their hands rested on your side, intertwined with one another, your hand stopped to rest on Angelâs lower back. Eyes slowly closing as both his snores and Huskâs purring allowed your body to fully relax.
Slowly drifting off to sleep you reached behind you to scratch at Huskâs cheek, which made him softly chirp and rest his head on your shoulder, âI love you both..youâre almost free to be who you wanted, just need a couple more days..hang in there for me.â You whispered out to be met with soft snores and heavy purring.Â
Youâd sell your soul to the Devil to make sure of it.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#huskerdust x male reader#male reader#angel dust x you#angel dust x male reader#hazbin angel dust#angel dust x reader#angel dust imagine#husker x reader#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#huskerdust#husk x male reader
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we could call it even. listen to the wind blow. you could call me babe for the weekend, running in the shadows. and if you don't love me now, you'll never love me again. there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me. damn the dark. damn the light. if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me, but if you don't love me now, you'll never love me again. i'm staying at my parents house. if you don't love me now... but we could call it even. the road not taken looks real good now. chain keep us together. you can run, but only so far. i escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave. chain keep us together. if you don't love me now, you'll never love me again, but if it's okay with you, it's okay with me. we could call it even. tis the damn season. chain keep us together. you would never break the chain. time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, watch the sun rise. now i'm missing your smile. we could just ride around. and i can still hear you saying you would never break the chain. sleep in half the day just for old times sake. damn the dark. damn the light. i won't ask you to wait. if you don't ask me to stay. but if you don't love me now, you'll never love me again. you would never break the chain so i'll go back to LA and the so-called friends who'll write books about me if i ever make it. listen to the wind blow, down comes the night. wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles i'm faking. you'd never break the chain. and the heart i know i'm breaking is my own. to leave the warmest bed i've ever known. damn your love. we could call it even. damn your lies. the road not taken looks real good now. and it always leads to you. chain keep us together (running in the shadows). we could call it even. you would never break the chain. still hear you saying we could call it even. i can still hear you saying. you would never break the chain. we could call it even. you would never break the chain. we could call it even. even though i'm leaving. chain keep us together. it always leads to you. chain keep us together. if you don't love me now, you'll never love me again. we could call it even. chain keep us together. it always leads to you.
#i am really proud of this#hoping you all will appreciate it#i feel that my life has lead to this#fleetwood mac#the chain#tis the damn season#stevie nicks#taylor swift#lindsay buckingham#save#evermore#rumours
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Commitment - Final
After eating a wonderful meal prepared by the house's cook and playing some online games, Pete found himself on the edge of the mansion's luxurious pool, dozing while sunbathing, enjoying the best that life had to offer. Until he was suddenly woken up when someone knocked him into the pool.
"Motherfucker!" He said after recovering and getting up irritated in the pool. And be greeted by Dan's smiling face.
"You piece of shit, you almost scared me to death. Iâll break you all apart!"
"You can try bro, but you need to be a lot bigger if you want to hit me."
"Big enough, bro!" He responded showing his big sculpted body.
"You can't resist a little show, can you? That way you'll make the girls go crazy!" Dan replied in turn, with a malicious expression on his face.
Girls? What girls?"
"Hi Pete!" Said a beautiful young woman while another as beautiful as her giggled next to her.
"Their shift at the gym is over so I invited them to come along. Don't worry about Julia, they'll behave, right girls?"
"Yes Dan, we won't do anything Pete doesn't want." Emily replied with a smile.
"You pay me for this you Asshole" Pete whispered to his friend.
"Hey, aren't you the faithful guy? Just stay that way, brother." Dan replied, his mischievous smile widening.
Somehow Pete managed to hold on, despite the advances from the women. When the situation became too difficult to control, he left the pool and went to Think of a way to send them away before Julia arrived. While he was swinging his long, thick cock, he was surprised by Emily who pushed him, still naked, against the wall and gave him a professional-level blowjob. So professional that he found himself unable to protest and after all it was just a blowjob, it's not like it was a terrible betrayal.
He was already looking for justifications for the fact that that blowjob had ended with him fucking the woman right there in the bathroom, when he heard his cell phone vibrate and received a message on his cell phone from Julia saying that she was already at the front gate of
the house. He quickly freed himself from Emily and instructed Dan to hide with the two women in one of the guest rooms. While he himself ran to his suite to take a quick shower and wash the smell of sex off his body.
When Julia arrived at his room she found him naked on the bed waiting for her smiling at her.
"Hey babe, how about that blowjob?" He asked with a smile, as if nothing had happened.
Pete woke up the next day after a strange dream in which he was a wimp living with the slut he had slept with the night before, without the courage to admit that he was being exploited by the gold digger. As if it were possible. Yet before opening his eyes he felt his bulging muscles and his face feeling that everything was the way it should be. It was terribly early by his standards. But it was his own fault for havingaccepted that partnership with Dan and now having to work helping to organize the new Dan's Gym units around the city. Just having to think that they would still have to find a new name for the franchise almost made him want to not get out of bed. But he still forced himself to get up.
As he passed the living room on the way to the kitchen he He received a message from the social manager of the gym chain with the next promotional video for Instagram. Dominating the screen were him and Dan, looking more like two real brothers than best friends, laughing and flexing their muscles after an intense workout that had pushed them to the limit.
A momentary thought of doubt crossed Peter's mind, how was it possible for two people to exist as physically similar as they were and with the same habits, tastes and thoughts? But soon this fleeting doubt dissipated, never to return, as he was interrupted by the voice Pete had expected to hear, making him look up.
"I personally thought the final result of the project is excellent."
"I agree. And I see you're quite comfortable as a guest." He replied with an mocking expression.
"Brother, I've been going to this house for years, your parents consider me a second son, I'm much more than a guest."
A smiling Dan replied, wearing only underwear spread comfortably on the couch.
"What's more than I can say about that woman you brought home last night, really scandalous in bed. Who was the diva?"
"You don't know, a girl I picked up at college, we met again recently and I decided to give her a revival, but it turns out she expected a lot more from me than I had to offer. She wasn't very happy when I told her I had called a car for take her home."
"You know, for someone so rich, you lacks class, bro!"
"Look who's talking, I heard very well what you did to that girls in the guest room."
"But I'm not the senator's son."
"It was my fault. I should have ignored her advances and stuck to my policy of no repeat women. I don't want any commitment."
"Good thing this doesn't extend to work."
"Dan, if there's a relationship that I'm fully committed to, it's ours, both at work and in friendship."
"I know that brother, and I'm grateful for that, my life wouldn't be the same without you!"
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a sweet moment of frat!miguel and muñeca that we rarely get to see
to miguel, relationships are complex.
heâs not built for one and never meant to. the idea of having to commit to one person when he still wants to have fun sounds like a real torture. the constant clinging and demands of going out on dates just enough to make him scowl. like whatâs the point of it all? spending money on gifts or valentines dates just seem to be a waste of time.
until she entered the picture. gone were the days where his money were spent on booze and gears.
now, heâs having the ultimate pleasure of spoiling his girlfriend, walking her to classes, stay during cheerleading practice and begging her to stay over at the frat house. all that he did out of consciousness,
even curating the image of what their wedding would look like in the future.
yeah. that much.
the couple decides to have a small picnic at the campus park during their free period. whereas the rest of the students are busy with studying and walking from building to building, these two lovers find the spare time to be with each other.
âi love hibiscus flowers. theyâre prettyâ muñeca mentions, laying on her side with palm supporting the head. âsunflowers tooâmuch better than a roseâ
miguel fixes himself a smile upon his beautiful girlfriend, deciding to mirror her action by laying on his side as well. âhow abouut cake flavor, cariño?â
she looks over at him and the sight is making her drool. the shirt that heâs sporting compliments his rippling muscles, not to mention the few unbuttons at the top showcasing a bit of his chest hair and gold chain around the neck.
âare you going somewhere with this?â she questions with a smile, seeing him shrug,
âjust askingâ he replies, eyes staring intently into hers. âi want to know what my girl likesâbecause if she mentions vanilla then iâm outâ
muñeca giggles, head shaking at the ridiculous assumption. âi would never!â miguel grins even wider hearing the sound of that laugh. âi love red velvetâand anything fruit infused dessertsâ
he nods, making a mental note on that one. âwhat if I prefer chocolates?â
âthen we can have bothâ she answers casually, hand sneaking through its way towards the slope of his calloused one. âchocolates and raspberries are good combo, anywayânot white or milk chocolates though. dark is the wayâ
âthatâs my girlâ miguel praises, his thumb drawing circles around her skin. âi love this dress on you, by the wayâwear it oftenâ
âyou say that pretty much about everything i wear miggy!â she smiles, kissing his jaw. âyouâre biasedâ
âis it my fault that my girlfriend looks good in everything?â he asks as if heâs proving his innocence, tightening the hold of his hand around hers, âgot the prettiest girl on campus by my side and thereâs no way iâm missing the chance to let her know how hot she isâ
her cheeks warm at the compliment, looking down momentarily to hide the large grin thatâs threatening to break through, âyou just want to fuck meâ itâs a joke,
âis it working?â he jokes back with a raised eyebrow, earning himself a punch on the shoulder making him grunt and laugh, âcaray, ma!âyou sure got some strength in youâ
âthanks to my handsome linebackerâs workout routineâ she winks, curling a loose hair around his forehead,
âput me in a headlock next, i beg of youâ he says, and she canât tell if heâs really joking or serious but she wouldnât be surprised if it was the latter,
âugh! youâre so unserious sometimes!â
they both share a laugh after. âokay back to question numberâfive!â he picks a chocolate covered strawberry with his free hand off the plate and pop it in his mouth. âdream destination?â
her lips curl into a thinking mode and so are her eyebrows, clutching their interlocked hand against her chest. âhmmâbali, malaysia, and romeâ
miguel hums, nodding as he looks down. she tilts her head to the side with confusion written all over her face, watching him. âwhat is this, intervention?â
âwhat, no. canât a guy ask his girl a few things to get to know her better?â
âmiggy, we fuck at least three times a day, i think we already went past that kind of formalitiesâ she rolls her eyes playfully, seeing how he shrugs innocently and grin. âso? what is this about? first it was about my favorite decorations, second itâs about my favorite dish and drinks of choice and then third, and fourthââ she trails off, watching the shy smile on his face appears as he avoids her gaze,
âwhat?â she asks confused, yet his smile is contagious and that makes her smile too,
âjust thinking about how everything would look like for our wedding somedayâ
âa wedding?â
ây-yeahâ he scratches the back of his neck nervously, âiâm making notes, you know? i trust them all with you, muñecaâwant you to handle everythingâ
her heart somehow blooms in her chest, gaze softening when he mentions about marriage. tying a knot. living happily ever after. with her.
she feels the little girl inside of her is squealing at the thought of a prince charming asking her for a hand. like ones she read on fairy tales and bedtime stories.
he wants to marry her
upon hearing no response, he feels the embarrassment creeping in as he gulps, his hand trembling slightly at the thought of being rejected. he would probably cry if she told him that she doesnât see the future together.
âlook you donâtââ
âbabyâ she coos, her hand moving to cup his face. âyou want to marry me?â
he feels somehow at ease when he hears the tone of her voice, realizing that he may not look like an eager idiot whom he thought heâd be in front of her, âi doâ his response is firm and set. âdo you?â
the way heâs looking at her with hopeful eyes makes her wish that theyâre both alone right now, just so she could straddle his lap and smother him with kisses. but seeing that theyâre not and at a public space, especially on campus, sheâs holding herself back.
instead of that, she cups his face before leaning in for a kiss. miguel sighs into her mouth, kissing her back with much more passion as he snakes a hand around her waist. the kiss is somehow becoming more intense and hungry. he then moves himself to move on top of her in swift motion, making her giggle at his enthusiasm.
whatâs supposed to be a simple kiss, turns into a heavy makeout session. she squeezes both his shoulders as a gesture to take it easy, not wanting the head of security to catch them in the act. again.
miguel huffs when she pulls away, but the taste of her lips remains to be the reason why a lovesick smile attached on his features.
âof course i doâ she replies, âjust make sure that the ring is ready after we graduate, oâharaâ and miguel will hold onto that. he will buy the most expensive and prettiest ring ever for her.
she swears that the love she has for him is bigger than anything. he had changed a lot for the better and she couldnât be more proud. miguel had learned so many things during the times he had shared with her, and it would be so crazy to think that she didnât bring any positive impact in his life.
her existence is the key of him growing. not just love but as a person as well. and he would argue to hell and back with anyone just to prove the point of his gratitude to her will always be bigger than this girl,
none of these two lovers knew what fate had in stored for them. to have a committed relationship with someone wasnât in eitherâs bucket list, let alone getting married. but everything seems to have changed.
before this, they didnât even know each other. there had been a time where miguel didnât know muñeca exist and vice versa. and thereâs some sort of twinge rattle in his chest, knowing that someone else could be loving her instead of him.
he doesnât like that. at all.
the negative thought that plagued into his mind somehow gets pulled when he feels her soft padded thumb traces his lower lip. his pupils dilating when he looks at her, with the pretty smile that he never gets tired of. seeing that often makes his heart fail to find a steady rhythm.
gaze in her eyes speaks so kindly to him. a look in which helps to remind him that she belongs to him and so does he to her. and miguel finds himself exhale a breath of relief yet once again.
âshe is so unbelievably gorgeous and all mineâ
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Unhappily Married (Jason Todd)
Summary: you're in an arranged marriage. You won't be unhappy.
Warnings: Flangst, Arranged Marriage
WC: 770
A/N: really proud of this one, ngl.
Read on Ao3!
--
The grand hall was cold, despite the warmth of the chandeliers overhead and the rich velvet curtains that adorned the windows. Your wedding gown, heavy with intricate lace and satin, felt more like a chain binding you than something meant to celebrate the happiest day of your life.
But this wasnât the happiest day of your life.
Jason stood across the room, leaning against a table, his tux slightly askew, his hands shoved into his pockets. He was scowlingâthough to be fair, he was always scowling. But tonight, it felt sharper, the weight of the forced union hanging between you like an impenetrable wall.
The marriage had been arranged, a deal struck between familiesâhis and yours. It wasnât love, and you doubted it ever would be.
You walked over to him, needing to break the tense silence. "We should talk."
Jason didn't even look at you, his gaze still fixed somewhere out the window. "What's there to talk about?" His voice was rough, distant.
You crossed your arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I get that youâre not happy about this either, but we canât ignore each other forever."
Jason finally turned his head, meeting your eyes with that intense, hardened stare heâd perfected. âI never wanted to marry you,â he said bluntly, his voice cold but filled with an honesty that cut through you like a blade.
You stiffened at his words, though they werenât exactly a surprise. You had known, from the moment the arrangement was announced, that Jason Todd was not a willing participant. But hearing him say it aloud? That hurt more than you had expected.
âTrust me, I never wanted to marry you either,â you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. âBut here we are, so what do you suggest we do? Just hate each other forever?â
Jason sighed heavily, pushing himself away from the table and stepping closer. His eyes softened just slightly, though the tension in his posture remained. âI donât hate you. I donât even know you.â
âThatâs the problem, isnât it?â You met his gaze, refusing to look away. âWe donât know each other at all. And now weâre stuck in this⊠this marriage. Iâm not asking for us to fall in love overnight, but we can at least try to make this bearable.â
Jason ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. âLook, I get it. This whole thing is messed up. But Iâm not exactly great at⊠letting people in.â
You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on your chest. âIâm not asking for you to pour your heart out, Jason. But I canât be in a marriage where weâre just pretending the other person doesnât exist. We owe each other more than that.â
Jasonâs jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something you couldnât quite place. Regret, maybe? Guilt? He took a deep breath, stepping closer, his voice lower now, softer. âI never wanted to marry you⊠because I didnât want you to get hurt.â
You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. âWhat do you mean?â
His eyes held yours, and for the first time, you saw the weight of the life he carriedâhis dangerous world, his enemies, the shadows that always seemed to follow him. âYou donât deserve to be dragged into the mess that is my life. Iâm not exactly the kind of guy who can promise you some perfect, fairytale marriage.â
Your heart softened as the pieces started to click into place. Jason wasnât just being difficultâhe was trying to protect you. He was pushing you away because he was scared of what being with him might mean for you.
âJasonâŠâ you said quietly, stepping closer. âI donât need perfect. I just need honest. And I can handle more than you think.â
He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, some of the hardness in his expression melted away. He still seemed conflicted, but there was a shift, a tiny crack in the armor he kept around himself.
âI donât know how to do this,â he admitted, his voice low. âBut Iâll try. For you.â
Your breath hitched, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. Slowly, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. His grip was hesitant at first, but he didnât pull away.
âThatâs all Iâm asking,â you whispered, giving him a small smile. âWe can figure this out together.â
Jasonâs gaze softened as he looked down at your joined hands, and for the first time since the marriage had been arranged, there was a glimmer of something you hadnât seen beforeâhope.
--
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#jason todd x reader#jason todd au#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x oc#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd angst
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Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isnât for him.
Itâs nice and all, he reckons, for Impulseâs family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even beforeâeverythingâJoelâs family hadnât really been the âbig meal around a big tableâ type, so heâs getting some new experiences here too. And itâs nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.
But like. Itâs not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. âMagic brain ghostsâ and âevil butterfliesâ and âJoel still isnât certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasnâtâ puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joelâs whole family is dead, so he gets the sense heâs sort of harshing the vibes, you know?
Still. Itâs a nice gesture. He guesses. Itâs free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulseâs family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joelâs leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feelâŠ
Heâd have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldnât know. He didnât come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, thatâs stupid, because itâs not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. Heâs not⊠friendly.
But.
They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. Theyâre quiet.
âThanks, man. That meant a lot to them,â Skizz says.
âYeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,â Joel says.
Skizz laughs. âIt was nice having you there, too. Man, theyâre even worse with you! Itâs like not knowing you means theyâre even more awkward about family tragedy.â
âTrust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,â Joel says.
âDidnât he ditch you, dude?â
âHaha, yeah, he did,â Joel says.
They stare up at the streetlamps together.
âI was really ready to go for a bit there,â Skizz says. Joelâs hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. âIt was likeâman, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, itâs like I remembered⊠Iâd miss dinners, dude.â
âI have no idea why, that kinda sucked,â Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because heâs a moron who canât handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.
Skizz breaks out laughing.
âYouâre great, man! Iâm glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I wonât go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?â
âYeah man. See you,â Joel saysâ
I am thou.
Thou art I.
Thou hath formed a new bond.
With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.
RANK 1!
âWhat the hell?â Joel says, tripping over his feet. âWhat? What? Where didâwhat the fuck that wasnât Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my headââ
âDude, are you okay?â
Skizzâs almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.
âTell me you heard that,â Joel says desperately.
âIâI donât know what youâre talking about. I could take you back to the hospitalâno?â
âI am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?â Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.
âWe can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,â Skizz says.
âI donât wanna,â Joel says.
âTough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!â
Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. âCan you cover your ears for a moment?â he says.
âYeah, sure thing, whyââ
Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.
ââŠJoel,â Skizz says.
âYeah thanks man donât worry about it letâs never speak of this again Iâm sure itâs nothing. I definitely didnât have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.â
âYeah, okay, whatever you say,â Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.
#smallishsona au#joel smallishbeans#skizzleman#a bee fic#WELCOME CHARIOT ARCANA#figured Iâd come poke this some more. still getting through the âopening tutorialâ part of the game.#this is where youâre railroaded through your first social link so you can learn how that mechanic works lol#I AM bending the rules by having it be skizz instead of the fool thanks for asking#I just think he deserves it.#also skizz being the first male friend also breaks the magician rule#but like. HE DESERVES IT.#and scar isnât far off I can do what I want.
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Can you do a quick lando angst
in the kitchen | lando norris
1k words - loosely based on the song by Reneé Rapp But now it's just me And a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories
You reached for the chain around your neck, yanking it off with a harsh tug, not even bothered to see where in the kitchen it landed. Maybe it slid under the fridge or tucked away in one of the corners and wouldnât be found until the next time Lando swept.
Regardless, it was gone.
The necklace he bought you six months after you started dating meant nothing more than the dust that layered the ground. The golden initials, LN, could rust away for all you cared.
You imagined a day where Lando tried to find the necklace. He watched you pull it off with such force, it had to be in the kitchen somewhere. You thought about him on his hands and knees, searching for the last remnant of your relationship until finally, weeks later, heâd come across it covered in a layer of crumbs and grime.
What would he do with it?
Would he throw it out? Or would he just hold onto it, on the off chance that you came back for it, for him? Would he stand there in the kitchen and ask himself what went wrong?
You used to dance in that kitchen. You in one of his shirts, Lando in a quadrant hoodie with the matching crew socks. Heâd spin you under his arms and youâd laugh as he fought not to slip on the tiled floor. Quiet music would play through the bluetooth speaker sitting at the edge of the counter and the only light to guide your movements flooded in dimly from the hallway.
You used to cook together in this kitchen. Side by side, breakfast, lunch and dinner when his obligations didnât whisk him away. Youâd argue over the good cutting board because even though there were three other perfectly good cutting boards tucked away in the cupboard, it was more fun for Lando to pinch your sides and tuck you into his chest as your laughter filled the confined space, it was a sound Lando easily became accustomed to.Â
There was a point when he would do anything to hear it, to be the reason your face lit up and that breathtaking melody passed through your lips. He loved to be the reason for your laugh, your smile, all of it.
He told you he loved you for the first time in that kitchen.
It was during the winter break, a week or two before Christmas and you had just gotten back from a holiday party one of your friends hosted. As you were in the process of sliding your jacket off, you verbalised those worrying thoughts you had about still not being able to find a gift for his parents, something you had been muttering about for a few days and you expected the same response when you turned to face Lando. Donât worry, we still have time.
But he stood there in the kitchen, twisting one of the rings on his finger and staring at you with a look he had never given you before. The only way you could describe it was new. Like Lando had a fresh set of eyes and he was looking at you in a way he had never been able to before tonight.
âWhat?â You asked, trying to figure out what was going through that head of his. Usually, you could. You knew him better than he knew himself.
But you didnât expect him to reach for your hand and pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you stared up at him. The lack of light in the flat didnât falter your ability to see him so clearly, it never did.Â
âI love you,â he whispered, so quietly you almost didnât hear him. The corner of his lips tugged upwards and he nodded, like he was happy with those words, proud that he finally got them out. âI love you,â he repeated.Â
He loved you.
At that point, he did. He meant those words and you didnât doubt it.Â
Now? You wondered if the times he did say it, he said it absentmindedly before walking out the door, like he had to remind himself how he felt about you, like he needed to say those words for you, not because he wanted to.Â
You didnât dance in that kitchen anymore, you hadnât in months.Â
You didnât cook together, relying on delivery apps or eating at separate times.Â
You didnât laugh anymore.
Those words, âI love youâ hadnât been spoken out loud in twelve days. You counted.Â
You stopped saying it first, waiting to see if he would take it upon himself to not be the response, but you had too high of expectations for him. Lando stopped telling you that he loved you the second you stopped telling him.Â
Did he even realise it? That you had pulled away, that you stopped meeting him at the door to kiss him, stopped dragging him into the kitchen to dance with you. All of those moments, those sweet intimate moments that once meant so much to both of you, had vanished.Â
If he noticed, he didn't say anything.
If he noticed, why didn't he say anything?
Why was he still not saying anything?
Why were you just staring at each other? Why were there tears streaming down your face while he just stood there? Why wouldnât he just tell you that he loved you? When did he stop loving you?
When did he stop loving you?
And when did you stop loving him?
You looked away first, maybe you were looking for the necklace for a quick second or maybe you just couldnât take that distant stare anymore. He wasnât looking at you like you were brand new. His eyes were tired, drained. They carried no love for you.Â
Without a word, you stepped away from him, mind and heart empty but thatâs how the kitchen felt for months now anyway. Four cutting boards just seemed like too much. The music was too loud. This 100 square feet of space was too dark for you to find any sort of comfort anymore.Â
There was nothing there for you to hold onto.Â
It was just a kitchen.
- this is not edited im sorry if theres mistakes - also sorry i havent written in a hot minute i love u
#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris x y/n#f1 one shot#lando norris one shot#driver scenarios with em
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And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again
I can still hear you saying we would never break the chain
-
I know everyone and their second cousin has drawn locked tomb art based on this pose but if the shoe fits
#the locked tomb#john gaius#mercymorn the first#augustine the first#dios apate#tlt#locked tomb art#my art#i understand that i drew jod way hotter than he has any right to be but you know what#the three songs this art is about are#the chain by fleetwood mac and no children by the mountain goats and big god by florence and the machine#no i will not be taking questions at this time#did this art put me in an Interesting headspace for a few days? yes#am i going to confront that? hell no
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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Two
Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.8k Series masterlist
Chapter summary: Alicent's birthday dinner proves to be eventful in more ways than one.
Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.
She flops down onto the sofa next to her flatmate, once safely back inside, huffing a dramatic sigh and replaying in her mind the mortifying moment that Aemond refused her kiss.
Mysaria takes out her earphones and closes her laptop, turning to her with a smirk. âSo, sugar baby, how was your evening?â
âShit.â She shoots back, dipping a hand into the open crisp bag that sits between them and taking a few.
âLet me guess, didnât look anything like his picture?â
She shakes her head, speaking around a mouthful of crisps. âExactly like his picture. I tried to kiss him and he said no.â
âSounds like a win to me.â Mysaria says with a shrug. âIf you can get away with not doing that sorta stuff and still get the money then you absolutely should.â
She sighs. Therein lies the problem, with Aemond she wants to do that sort of stuff.
The rest of the weekend passes by uneventfully, with no further word from Aemond, no matter how hard she wills for it as she stares at their existing text chain.
She has to suppress a strangled sounding squeal on Monday when he texts her while sheâs at work. Her hand flies to her phone the moment she sees his name light up her screen with a buzz.
Are you working today?
She is almost embarrassed at the speed with which she replies.
I am. Why?
She feels her breath hitch as his response comes instantly.
Iâll swing by at lunch time.
Sheâs unable to concentrate for the rest of the morning, too nervous to focus on anything other than the fact that sheâll be seeing Aemond in a few hours. The time passes painfully slowly and she feels as though sheâs anxiously drummed her fingers on every available surface until finally itâs noon.
She spots him in the foyer as she heads downstairs. He is instantly recognisable; taller than almost everyone, the top half of his pale hair is pulled back from his face in a bun, while the rest hangs loose around his shoulders. His fitted black shirt is rolled up to the elbows and paired with a well tailored pair of suit trousers and expensive looking dress shoes.
He gives her his subtle trademark smirk when he sees her and she immediately feels self conscious under the intensity of his gaze.
âThanks for giving up your lunch break for me.â He says after sheâs greeted him. âI figured it would make our story more believable if Iâd actually seen you at work. Weâre bound to get asked questions at dinner on Wednesday.â
âOhâŠsure, no problem.â She feels herself deflate a little upon hearing that this isnât a visit because he simply wants to see her.
âI brought you a little something, guessing you havenât had lunch yet?â
He hands her a thick, white box that has âCĂ©dric Groletâ inscribed in gold lettering. Itâs a bakery sheâs read about in Time Out Magazine, but never visited. In her opinion, anyone willing to spend six pounds on a croissant has more money than sense. She opens the box, her eyebrows raising in surprise as she looks at the delicate pastry inside.
âYou brought me a custard tart.â She meets his eye with a grin.
Aemond scoffs. âParisian flan, actually.â
âThank you.â Her cheeks heat up as she holds his gaze. âIâll eat this later. Donât want to risk it around the exhibits.â
He nods, a mixture of amusement and something she canât quite place evident in his eye as he looks at her. âShall we then?â He gestures for her to lead the way.
She guides him around the museum and she is impressed with the depth of his knowledge as he tells her what he knows regarding Ancient Egypt and Greek history. Likewise, he pays rapt attention when she explains the timeline of the Vikings and Saxons, asking relevant questions and nodding enthusiastically as she answers.
For the first time in a long time she feels genuinely listened to when she speaks about the subject sheâs so fiercely passionate about. Itâs nice to have someone take an interest. The conversation flows easily and all too quickly an hour slips by.
âI should let you get back to work.â Aemond tells her, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time. âI need to get back to Vhagar anyway.â
âVhagar?â
âYeah.â Aemond says, and for the first time since they met, his face lights up with genuine happiness. âSheâs my doberman. Sheâs getting on a bit, so I try not to leave her with the dog walker for too long if I can help it.â
She feels herself melt a little at this admission. As if he wasnât already perfect, he was an animal lover to top it all off.
Heâs quick to compose himself, clearing his throat and returning to his stoic demeanour. âAnyway, Iâll pick you up at six on Wednesday, okay?â
She nods and they wave goodbye to each other. She heads back to work, a slight spring in her step for having seen Aemond. She canât believe how much they have in common, smiling to herself as she wonders when sheâll get to meet Vhagar.
Sheâs brought crashing back to reality when her phone buzzes with a text from Aemond.
For working through your lunch break.
Itâs immediately followed by a notification from her banking app. A one thousand pound deposit from A. Targaryen.
She knows she should feel elated by the money, but itâs a sobering reality check. Heâs not your boyfriend, this is transactional.
When she arrives home from work on Wednesday afternoon, she is overwhelmed by the idea of having to get ready for Alicentâs birthday dinner. There is no way she can reuse the dress from Jace and Baelaâs engagement party, and everything else in her wardrobe feels far too casual for a family as high end as the Targaryens.
Sheâs distracted momentarily when she catches sight of a package sitting on the kitchen side.
âParcel on the side for you!â Mysaria calls out from her bedroom.
âI see it, thanks!â She shouts back, working to remove the packaging.
Inside is a Cartier box, with a note; âWould really like you to wear this to dinner - A.â
âWell, then, what is it?â Mysaria asks, creeping up behind her and resting her head on her shoulder. âIt arrived this morning and Iâve resisted the temptation to open it all day!â
She gasps as she opens the box. A white gold necklace inlaid with diamonds, and a single sapphire at its center, rests inside.
Mysaria lets out a low whistle. âYou could sell that and put down a deposit on a bloody house!â
She rolls her eyes. âI think he intends for me to wear it, not sell it. But what the fuck am I going to put it with? Itâs going to look like Iâve put tinsel on shit!â
An hour later, having rummaged through Mysariaâs wardrobe, sheâs finally ready, having paired a long sleeved, silky button down top with a faux leather skirt. Simple enough for a casual dinner, yet dressy enough to compliment the completely over the top jewelry that now sits around her neck.
Aemond arrives and is ever the gentleman, opening the passenger side door for her as she climbs into his car. Her eyes linger a little too long on the way his expertly tailored suit hugs his body. Thankfully, his attention is focused entirely on her throat, so he doesnât notice.
âNecklace looks good.â He says buckling his seatbelt. âWeâll have to do something at some point about the rest of it though.â
Her mouth gapes open in shock. âWhatâs wrong with my outfit?!â
He reaches across, rubbing the material of her top between his thumb and forefinger. âPolyester.â
The touch of his fingers in such close proximity to her skin makes her feel so light headed that she canât find it in herself to be offended. Wordlessly, he starts the car.
âSo, I should brief you on what youâre getting into before we arrive.â Aemond glances over at her as he drives. âIt's my mother's birthday. She wonât have cooked, she never does; sheâll have ordered Thai food. Her partner, Criston, will be there, so will my brother, Aegon, and my sister, Helaena. Thereâll also be my half sister, Rhaenyra.â
She doesnât miss how Aemond tenses up as he speaks of Rhaenyra. She canât help but feel panicked at how intimate of an affair this will be, especially as this is only her second date with Aemond, if date is even the right word for it.
âWhat about the rest of your family that were at the engagement party?â
âMost of the people there were not anyone Iâd consider family. My grandfatherâs away on business and âNyra knows better than to bring her boys. Mum wonât want them there. None of us do.â
The grip that Aemond has on the steering wheel tightens and his jaw clenches. She decides not to push the subject any further, itâs clearly a touchy one and she simply doesnât know him well enough to pry. The rest of the drive passes in silence.
The townhouse they pull up outside of is lavish, a blanket of green ivy covers the outside. Aemond is quick to take her hand as they walk up the path to the front door. Her heart races at the feel of it, and she has to battle to remind herself that itâs all for show.
Alicent gives them both a warm welcome, pulling them into a tight hug with a kiss on both cheeks. She looks radiant as ever as she leads them through to a large dining room, with a long mahogany table at the center of it.
Helaena jumps up as soon as she sees them, giving them both a hug, while Aegon opts to remain seated, making a mock salute as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.
Aemond was right about the Thai food, as Criston enters shortly after they arrive, carrying several paper bags from a place called Patara and places them in the middle of the table.
Aemond pulls out a chair for her and she takes a seat, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily as he presses his lips to her temple. A shiver runs through her.
âGet me a fork, would you, Hel? Iâll be here all fucking night trying to eat with chopsticks.â Aegon says, leaning forward to rummage in a bag.
âItâs Thai food, you eat it with a spoon, not chopsticks!â Helaena shoots back.
âThatâs not a fork though, is it?â He rolls his eyes exasperatedly, pulling out tubs and setting them down. âGet me a fork!â
âGet your own fork, dick.â She fires back.
âWill you two stop it?!â Alicent hisses. âI just want one family dinner without an argument. Rhaenyra isnât even here yet, stop opening the food. Aegon!â
She hurries from the room as the doorbell rings.
The mood around the table shifts. She notices Aemond rubbing his fingers together absentmindedly, his teeth grinding ever so slightly. Without thinking, she reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, shooting her an appreciative look.
Rhaenyra sweeps into the room, looking glamorous. Her long, light hair is pulled into an intricate braid and a pair of teardrop ruby earrings hang delicately from her lobes.
âApologies for my lateness.â She says with a tight smile. âDifficult to be on time when you have to make separate dinner plans for the side of the family that arenât welcome.â
âOh god, sheâs started already.â Drawls Aegon. âCome on, who had âas soon as she arrivesâ in the sweepstake for when âNyra would start her bitching?â
âAegon!â Alicent scolds him, her brown eyes widened with anger. Her face softens as she turns back to Rhaenyra. âIgnore him, Iâm so pleased you could make it.â
The two women exchange a warm embrace before taking their seats.
The meal passes in relative high spirits, in spite of its awkward start. Expensive red wine is shared around the table, as they all dig into dishes of soft shell crab mango salad, chicken massaman and vegetable pad thai.Â
Alicent asks her more about her line of work, while Aemond interjects that heâd dropped by to surprise her with lunch. This little anecdote is met with excited coos from both his mother and sister.
He plays the part of attentive boyfriend perfectly. Dishing out food onto her plate, feeding her from his fork and placing his hand on her knee at regular intervals. The longer it goes on for, the more difficult it becomes for her to remember that itâs all an act. The way her body responds to his touch is certainly not for show, however; there is no pretending when it comes to the gooseflesh left in the wake of his hand on her skin.
As the meal is drawing to its end, Rhaenyra sits back in her chair, running her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. âSo, I was planning on making a gift of Dragonstone Cottage to Jace and Baela, since theyâll be needing a place to live together once theyâre married.â
âThatâs not yours to give away.â Aemond tells her, staring at her with an intensity thatâs almost frightening.
âFather didnât name an owner in his will. Technically, as first born, everything goes to me.â She says with an offhand shrug.
âThatâs such bullshit!â Aegon seethes, over the rim of his glass.
âDonât.â Criston warns. âYouâll upset your mother.â
âMaybe this is best talked about another time.â Alicent says, shooting an apologetic look around the table.
âThatâs the problem though, isnât it, Mum? You never want to talk about it and she always gets her own way, just like when Dad was alive.â Aegon says, his voice raising an octave with every word.
âOh, I think youâve gotten far more than what is owed to you.â Rhaenyra glares at him.
Aemond slams his fist on the table, causing everyone to startle. He stands abruptly, storming from the room.
She isnât sure of where to look, she has never felt more uncomfortable in her entire life than she does right now. The atmosphere around the dinner table is horribly strained and she is suddenly glad of the opportunity to play up to her part of concerned girlfriend in order to get away from it.
âIâllâŠumâŠIâll just go and see where heâs gone.â She says shakily, eager to get away from the sour, sullen faces that now surround her.
She finds Aemond stood outside in the back garden, leaning against the railing of the patio decking as he smokes a cigarette.
âI didnât know you smoked.â
âI donât.â He responds, taking another drag.
âAnything in there that you wanted to talk about?â She offers meekly.
âI donât pay you enough for that.â He sighs.
Her face falls slightly at this. Each reminder of what their relationship really is is like a punch to the gut. She leans against the railing, placing her hand next to his.
âWhatever it is, Iâm sorry. If you ever do need to talk though, Iâm happy to listen.â
Aemond flicks the cigarette away, crushing it under foot. âI justâŠjust once it would be nice to feel appreciated.â
âI appreciate you.â She tells him honestly, her little finger stroking over his as she stares up at him.
His face softens as he looks down at her and for the first time since she stepped outside she feels like he is seeing her, really seeing her. His hand moves from the railing to brush her hair away from her face and as his eye moves from hers to her lips, she leans up and presses them to his. This time he doesnât stop her.
He tastes of cigarettes and red wine, itâs a heady combination, intensified by the plushness of his lips. All too soon, he is pulling away, breathing heavily.
âIâm sorry. We shouldnât have done that.â He admits.
âBut I wanted to.â She pleads earnestly.
He wraps his arms around her then, one hand clutching desperately between her shoulder blades, as the other buries itself in her hair. He kisses her like he is a man starved of oxygen and he needs her to breathe. She whimpers as she feels his tongue work itself against her own. Nobody has ever kissed her like this before, it makes her head swim and heat lick at her lower belly.
âGo to dinner with me on Friday.â He says breathlessly, once their lips part. âJust me and you.â
âIâd love to.â She whispers.
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond stannies#pro aemond targaryen#modern aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fan fic#aemond targaryen fanfic#hotd fan fiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fan fic
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For Lovers At Night part 5
My too much gene kicked in so thereâs one more chapter of this fic coming. Enjoy! Previous chapter
The text puts a knife in her chest causing her to let out a sob, hand flying to her mouth to cover it. Getting up she walks with her phone in hand out the hall through the doors breaking down only when sheâs outside. Letting the sob escape her throat she doesnât care that itâs starting to drizzle. Taking several deep breaths she tries to stop crying long enough to call you. As the dial tone rings, Melissa feels like her heart is going to fly out of her chest and not in a good way.
âHello?â A voice on the other end sighs.
âHon, can we talk please? I need to talk to you.â Melissaâs voice wobbles as she speaks a mile a minute.
Youâd never heard her sound like this, so small and unsure of herself in the time that youâve known her.
âThereâs a lot we have to talk about apparently.â You hum. âI need a bit of time, Melissa.â
âTime?â She asks quietly, âhow much time?â Sheâs all but pleading with you at this point and she doesnât care how she sounds. âI canât lose you.â She whispers.
The line goes quiet for a moment until you speak again. âI need to gather my thoughts about everything. I think you owe me that much.â
âOkay,â Melissa takes a deep breath. âJust please donât shut me out.â
âIâd never do that. Iâm not an asshole, Melissa. Iâm hurt and I need time. Iâll talk to you soon.â
The call ends and Melissa brings her hands to her face holding in a scream. In a matter of hours her entire life got flipped around in a way she never thought would happen. After a few more minutes outside Melissa breathes trying to calm herself to go back to her kids. Going back inside Abbott she cleans up her desk and tucks the card you sent into her purse before the tears start flowing again.
A couple blocks over you busy yourself cleaning up the store and bar in prep for the night ahead.
âyouâve been cleaning that same spot on the bar for ten minutes.â Your friend and colleague Jacob says coming up beside you.
âIâm- yeah,â you shake your head moving down the slab of granite. âMy head is in the clouds.â
âAnd you donât have that dopey lovesick smile on your face.â Jacob hums, âwas it too soon for flowers?â He winces.
âConsidering her husband posted on her Facebook for their anniversary last month, Iâm gonna say yeah too soon,â You huff tossing the rag down with a sigh.
âOh no,â Jacob lets out slow and full of pity.
âDonât do that, dude. I dont need that right now okay? I need to get through this weekend and figure out what the hell to say to her.â
âHow did this all happen?â
Looking at your friend with a sigh you slouch forward crossing your arms.
âI looked her up because sheâs so mysterious ya know? I looked and she came up, still has old pictures of him and that damn post on her wall. I donât know what to think at this point.â You shrug completely confused and hurt.
She definitely wasnât lying about being with women before, that much you knew and the way she looked at you felt real. She looked at you like she loved you. Talking to her on the phone and hearing the sadness in her voice made you even more conflicted.
âYou have feelings for her right?â He asks leaning against the bar.
âIâd be stupid not to wouldnât I?â you scoff.
âTheres your answer. Hear her out and talk to her when youâre ready.â Jacob advises the only way he knows how.
Thinking about your friendâs words for the rest of the day, you go through the motions at work putting on your best fake smile as you greet and chat with customers. As you cater to your patrons your phone sits on your office desk buzzing with a text chain from Melissa you donât see until much later.
When you get up to your apartment that night you get ready for bed shuffling over to the mattress feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You slept with a married woman and you had no idea if she was telling the truth or not about how she was treated by her husband. The post you saw online rubbed you the wrong way, you were still friends with enough people from your hometown to know what a bad relationship looks like yet you still didnât know for sure.
Laying on your back you look at the ceiling with a sigh. Now or never, you grab your phone looking at the long string of texts you have from Melissa.
I know you said you needed time but I need you to know I meant everything I said to you. About my family, work, how I feel about you.
I know I fucked up and Iâm so sorry. More sorry than youâll ever know, Amore.
Please donât push me away.
Dropping the phone onto your nightstand you turn over curling under your blankets wanting to sleep the day away. Only sleep doesnât come. Tossing and turning with racing thoughts of the redhead you dissect every moment carefully from when you met up until you kissed her goodbye after your date and every single moment puts a ghost of a smile on your lips. Her still calling you âAmoreâ in the texts made this even harder for you. Closing your eyes you listen to the raindrops hit your window and thunder rumble in the pitch dark.
At the same time, Melissa is overtired and wanting desperately to sleep but she canât stop the tears or her thoughts from keeping her body awake. Sheâs never felt like this before in her entire adult life and she knows itâs her fault. She should have never lied in the first place and she sure as hell should have never let Kristen Marie put her on Facebook.
when Joe posted that message on her page it didnât effect her, she already knew it was for the show he constantly put on for her family of being a good husband when they are all aware he is anything but. What she hadnât known was he made it public, and now the thought of losing you and explaining everything to her family makes her chest ache.
The following day for you is strange. When you wake at your usual ten am, it takes everything in you not to grab your phone and send Melissa a good morning text as youâd come accustom to. Instead you lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sound of birds outside along with the usual traffic. Getting up and going about your morning proves difficult for you. Once ready for your day you check the time, realizing Melissa had her lunch break in less than two hours. Picking up the device with a sigh you send a quick message.
Can you meet me the cafe near Abbott during your lunch?
In a classroom not far away Melissaâs heart jumps when she sees her phone light up. Opening it immediately she feels hopeful reading the message, glad her students were in gym at that very moment. Not wanting to test her luck too much she replies with a simple yes I can then gets up practically jogging to Barbaraâs classroom.
âHey, I have to cancel our lunch plans today. She wants to meet at the cafe.â She canât stop the smile from crossing her lips.
âMelissa, be careful with that woman.â Her best friend warns. âYou still have to deal with all the legal proceedings with Joe and your mother.â
Melissa nods shoving her hands in her pockets. âI know, I know that. I just really need to see her Barb.â She shrugs with a small smile that doesnât quite reach her eyes.
Barbara looks at her friend in astonishment. âYou love this woman.â She comes to the realization. âGo on during lunch, you text me as soon as you get back here.â She points.
As Melissaâs break time approaches you walk the couple blocks to the cafe on the corner, wondering if youâd see her coming from the school from the window. Sitting there waiting you order a water trying to keep your cool while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. As you do you receive a text from Jacob.
Hear her out and remember sheâs hurting too
Letting out a sigh you tuck the phone in your pocket. When you lift your head youâre met with the sound of the door chime and green eyes landing on you. Standing up at the table you donât make a move, gesturing for Melissa to sit across from you.
âHey,â you let out not breaking eye contact with the woman. Even dressed in her work clothes she was absolutely stunning. âYou look as tired as I feel.
âYeah,â Melissa takes a seat wanting so badly to hug you. âI didnât really sleep.â
âThat makes two of us,â you nod pushing one of the two coffees in front of you forward.
Melissa looks at you with a grateful not picking up the drink. Just how she likes it she thinks.
âSo uh, Iâve never had to do this before.â You shrug not sure where to start.
âAnd Iâm not good with the whole feelings thing.â Melissa adds playing with the corner of a napkin. âI know you owe me nothing, but let me explain everything?â She asks softly.
While you were upset, an explanation is exactly what you wanted. Nodding, you urge her to go on.
Taking a breath the redhead fiddles with the napkin between her fingers. âWhat I told you about him, everything is true. The cheating, the lying, the not caring, itâs all true. We were young and stupid when we got married, and he didnât wanna miss out on being one of the guys.â She shrugs taking a breath.
âYouâre not gonna tell me you two have kids are you?â
âNo,â Melissa shakes her head immediately. âNo kids, just an overbearing family on my side.â She chuckles. âIn fact, my brother and cousins threatened to kill him after they found out he cheated on me the first time.â
Letting out a puff of laughter you shrug. âCanât blame them. Itâs the Italian-American way.â
Melissa ducks her head with a small smile, eyes going to the paper. âYeah. And I ainât saying Iâm a saint, I cheated when I was a teenager but as an adult? Never did. My marriage started out fine, but a few years in he got sloppy with hiding it. I never cared enough to ask for a divorce because growing up my mother made a big deal about marriage but anyway,â She shrugs it off not wanting to get emotional. âI didnât think any of it mattered and I wasnât good enough for anyone else so why go through the hassle?â
Looking over the womanâs features you see a mixture of sadness and pleading in her eyes as she nibbles her bottom lip.
âWhat changed?â You ask quietly resting your hand on the table almost touching the redheads.
âyou made me feel like a woman that was desirable and worth talking to.â
âMelissa, I canât mess around with a married woman.â You sigh shaking your head. âI meant what I said in that card, I-â before you can finish your sentence Melissa hits you with another bomb.
âI asked Joe for a divorce.â
Sitting stunned you just blink at her for a moment.
âHe was there at the school when those flowers were delivered. Which are beautiful by the way.â The redhead gives a shy smile.
âWell fuck.â You sit back in shock taking in the information.
âHon, It was the best thing that coulda happened to me, I finally told him how miserable I was and thatâs what I needed to do,â Her eyes water, the dam about to break again as her voice turns to a whisper. âAnd you gave that to me even- even if that means I lose you.â
Extending your fingers you turn your hand, palm up to the redhead, your fingers entwining together a moment later. âYouâre not gonna lose me, Mel. I just-â you sigh, âI need to process everything and I bet you do too.â It had been a strange twenty four hours and you still couldnât believe the woman you were in love with was still someone elseâs wife.
Feeling the warmth and gentle squeeze from Melissaâs hand you lean forward slightly meeting her eyes. âLetâs take things slow, start over.â You suggest.
âI can do that.â The redhead nods. As long as she could keep you thatâs all she cared about.
âOkay,â you give her a soft smile gently pulling away. The rest of your short time together comes easy, the awkwardness chipping away as you two sit and talk as you usually did.
Tapping the screen of her watch Melissa sighs knowing the forty five minutes she spent with you wasnât long enough but would have to do for today.
âBack to the rugrats?â You ask knowing her lunch wasnât very long.
âYeah, Barb is getting âem from recess for me. I uh, thank you for talkin to me, hon.â
âIâd never ghost you or ignore you, Mel.â You shake your head leading her out the door of the cafe. âI really, really like you. I meant that. Now we can just pump the breaks a bit yeah? You and your family are going through a lot now.â
âYeah,â Melissa lets out in a puff of laughter. âI canât wait to be interrogated by my ma and Nana later at dinner.â
âIn that case Iâd say thatâs punishment enough.â you chuckle putting your hands in your pockets, still a bit of space between you two as you stand there on the sidewalk. âWell, Iâll see you later, Mel.â
âCan- hon, can I have a hug?â She asks almost unsure of herself.
Unable to say no to the woman you step forward wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist in a warm embrace. Closing your eyes you take in the feel of her body, her signature smell, how her hands feel playing with the back of your jacket.
âThank you, Amore.â She whispers, most definitely needing the loving touch as much as you did. The redhead pulls back first, giving you that shy smile that has just the corner of her lips up slightly.
âIâll see you soon.â You assure her, knowing that you really couldnât stay away from her long, especially now.
In the Schemmenti household a weekly dinner happens at Nanas house, and this week was no different except when Melissa pulls up with a large tray of ziti she only sees her parentâs car in the driveway. Coming into the house with the tray she smells food cooking and her nana talking, that was a good sign.
âIs a hit happening?â She pokes her head into the kitchen.
âMy mia Cara!â
Maria Schemmenti crosses the kitchen going right to her granddaughter kissing her cheeks and taking the tray from her. âCome sit, food is almost done.â
Even though sheâs up in years the oldest redhead that Melissa took after the most in looks and actions moves swiftly going back to her many dishes on the stove.
âHey kiddo, you okay?â Johnny Schemmenti was a no nonsense guy, always ready to jump into action for his family especially his mini me Melissa. Sharing the same green eyes the two hug and Johnny places a kiss to his daughterâs head.
âYa know what dad? Iâm better than Iâve ever been.â She smiles moving to sit back down with her dad. âMa looks pissed.â She says quietly watching the blonde woman move around the kitchen.
âHi, ma.â The youngest redhead calls out getting no reaction from the woman.
âMelissa I will speak to you when Iâm done helping your nana.â
âCaterina donât give that girl the cold shoulder.â Nana points at her.
âThatâs okay, Nana. Iâm the only one here so apparently Iâm in for an ambush. Did you put the hole in the backyard, Ma or is it somewhere else?â
Johnny has to bite back a laugh hiding his proud smirk with his beer bottle.
âMelissa this isnât an ambush. Iâm only wondering why you had to cause a scene instead of telling us you werenât happy.â
âMi stai prendendo per il culo,â Melissa huffs.
âMelissa Ann!â Caterina snaps.
âIf this is how dinners gonna go tonight Iâm outta here. I donât need all this. Nana, dad, Iâm sorry Iâll see you on Sunday.â She gets up kissing her dadâs cheek, grabbing her purse as she goes.
âSit back down, Tesoro. Your mother means well but she ainât going about it the right way.â Maria shoots her daughter in law a look that gets a huff from the blonde.
Melissa listens to her Nana, sitting back down next to her dad. Elbows on the table she covers her face with her hands taking a breath feeling like sheâs a little kid that was caught and is now getting in trouble.
âLook you wanna know what happened? Joe cheated on me for years, did ya know that? That weekend the guys had the cops called on them and I had to sweet talk the cop? Yeah, they were ready to kill him. We done here now?â Melissa lets out with a challenging look to her mother.
That night almost ten years ago had been a rough one. A bunch of the cousins rented a house in the Poconos and the long weekend in the summer heat ended with Joe taking off on a four wheeler and Johnny Junior having his hand stitched up in the cabins kitchen after a drunk Joe made a joke about another woman he was seeing. Junior and the cousins scared him good, eventually the cops came ruining the weekend for Melissa.
âThe boys knew this whole time?â Caterina asks quietly.
âOf course they did. So did Barb, and Nana.â She nods to her grandmother taking a breath.
Melissaâs mother looks at the oldest woman with an agape mouth.
âMel, we want you to be happy. You happy with splitting from Joe?â Johnny asks his daughter.
âI canât put into words how happy I am, pops.â She shrugs with a small smile.
âSee, Cat? Thatâs all I need to know.â He nods to his wife, getting up to get the plates for the table.
âAt your wedding I knew he was no good.â Maria shakes her head. âThe negativity sheds off of him like his hair does.â
Melissa chuckles staying put as her parents move about the kitchen setting the table. As they do, Maria comes over kissing the top of her head.
âMia Cara, when weâre done you make a plate and take it to your new friend. Give her a sneak peek of family dinners.â
The redhead looks at the matriarch of the family with a warm smile knowing her Nana would understand everything that Joe told the family.
As Melissa has dinner with her family you move around your apartment cleaning up and ordering groceries as you usually do on your days off. Seeing Melissa that afternoon was nice and you knew as soon as you saw her the anger you felt would lessen. You were upset but not so much with her. Now you were upset with her husband and how he treats her.
If her being free of him and the cage she felt trapped in meant you had to feel bad for those few hours from finding out to the moment you met up with her for lunch then so be it. You were tempted to text her an invite to come over for the night to decompress and talk more. As you leave your apartment and hop down the stairs to the alleyway out back to get rid of your garbage you see a car you do not recognize parked almost blocking the alley, and a man getting out of the car.
A man you recognize as Joe.
Final chapter
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hii! i love your works and we share the same name! đ
honestly ur writing so good. i wanted to ask for choso, who reader goes a bit to rough on during sex one day so choso takes control and shows reader whoâs actually in control ! btw ur works give me so much inspiration when writing LOL
oh god, we do! 𩶠and im glad i can help give inspiration! you can always ask me for some ideas if you have writers block, thats why i just be spit balling. but thank you sugar.
cw: rough reader at first, whimpering choso, rough choso.
for choso at least, your first week of ovulation was pure filth. you became more needy, sloppy, and a bit rough outside of sex.. for the moment.
youd plead with choso âuse me as some kind of cocksleeve!â or going on âxâ to find ideas and beg him to dress as pyramid head to fuck you in the basement while chained up. to no avail though, choso would just mumble âdont say stuff like that.â
until last night, you had take the control for the first timeâwhich would come to bite you in the ass later. or soon, you never knew with choso.
you rode his cock until there was nothing left for him to give, till his balls were empty and shining with your arousal mixed cream. he could feel it going up his own ass, his throat so breathy and hoarse from the moans.
his cheeks were red, one side with a small handprint while his arms were tied to the headboard.
âbaby,â he breathes out, tapping your ass in a attempt to have you look at him. you obliged, looking up at him. âwhats gotten into you?â
you shrugged, a cock drunk state and eyes lidded. you got to be rough with choso for the first time.
and it would be your last, considering the fact that not only were you hogtied and blindfolded, but you could also tell that choso was a bit pissed you were able to control him like that.
he lands a harsh slap on your ass, a light mix of pain but pleasure shot through your veins. you moan of course, causing choso to slam a finger into you. thank god he had trimmed his nails that day.. or was that why he did them?
âyoure fucking nasty, you know?â he mumbles, spitting onto your slit and his red, mean cockhead smears it around to gather some slick. âhad me looking like a mess.. that shouldve been you.â
not like you could speak, anyway.. he duct taped your mouth shut. because even after that night, you were still craving for a good fuck.
his hips ease into your velvet walls, hissing at the sudden sensation and urge to just pound away immediately. he takes a second to put his hair up into a man bun, pressing his hands into your back.
he forces an arch out of you, hearing your back pop from the force and he chuckles. âyou might just get what you want..â he groans, his cock twitching inside of you. it kisses your cervix, making your toes curl and strain.
he remembers how his treatment was yesterday, he might as well repay the favor.
he pulls you by your hair and pulls your back to his chest, biting down on your shoulder until youre whining. he grunts a response, thrusting into your walls so agonizingly slow.
âyeah? you feel remorse for what you did to me?â he says in a soft growl, giving a few slight slaps to your face and then a harsher one to a breast. âbet you fucking doâ oh, am i hitting that good spot?â he asks, seeing you thrash and writhe so suddenly.
âcum for me, just like how you did with me last night.â he orders, pressing a finger vibe on your clit and you silently scream, clenching around his length until he was white with your cum.
âif youre going to be rough with me, make sure youre not going to be so vulnerable the next few days.â he suggests, throwing you back down.
he rips the blindfold off of your eyes, slamming himself back into you in a mating press. you do cry, only a bit, fat tears dribbling down while he forces the eye contact, the eye contact as he slow but surely fucks himself into your walls.
hes the one to break it, surprisingly. rolling his eyes and head on his shoulders. âfâfuuck im going to fuckin cum!â he growls again, drawing out the âfsâ. he grabs your hips, thumbs digging into the gap of the bones in your groin and pulls you up and down on him.
you can feel it, how hot his cum runs in his balls and it drives you mad. your throat emits a whimper, your already abused clit throbbing from the bumps of his pubes.
âcmonâ.â he starts up, pulling the duct tape off your mouth. âstay here, ill get the bath running.â
#dvorahasks#dvorahsbabies#choso x black!reader#kamo choso x reader#choso x you#choso smut#kamo choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso my beloved
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Been thinking about Astarion and his disapprovals when you help people. I think that yes, it's partly about envy that no-one was there to help him, but also about choice and control. (BG3 is always a game about autonomy, after all.)
So hear me out: back in the pre-turn days, Astarion was a magistrate. And if Baldur's Gate is anything like our medieval and Renaissance eras? He would've had to sign off on some pretty damn awful punishments. (Look at how he talks in the Justice test about how one has to punish thieves, and the Early Access bit where he talks about how killing Arabella would be too harsh for her stealing... they should've cut off her hand instead, the "proper" punishment for thieves and what he would've sentenced her to. He handed down an edict bad enough on a Gur tribe that he was essentially murdered in revenge.)
So how do you justify this to yourself? Well. He had money, societal power, and pretty privilege - this is almost certainly why Cazador chose him, too - and was kind of crap at empathy. And we know he likes seeing people get their comeuppance, likes seeing them taken down a peg. So he carefully ignores all the ways he's been lucky, all his privilege, and pretends he got there all by himself. He goes, "They had a choice. There's always a choice. They weren't helpless. They should have got a job, not begged, or stolen. They earned this. They brought it upon themselves. I'm simply serving them the consequences. Don't look at me like that." (I think this also ties into that later-retconned part about him giving prisoners to vampires. They're just criminals, after all, the same way the Gur are cutthroats and goblins are trash. They chose this life. They chose not to matter.)
So then he falls painfully from privilege, and gets the full horrible buffet of helplessness at Cazador's hands. He "resisted least" - see, surely there's a way to be punished less if you just do the right things, if you say the right things. The spawn who resist are doing it wrong. They made their choice. (He ignores that he's never the favoured spawn, ignores the pliers coming out again, and tells himself this.) If he can say that, he can pretend he still has control - and he so desperately wants control. His old self-justification has been turned up to eleven by the trauma of Cazador.
And suddenly... tadpole. He's free. He's also, as said, traumatised. He tells himself he's never going back to Cazador - look, Cazador can't compel him, look, he can walk in the sun, look, he's seducing Tav. He knows what he's doing! He's in control! The tadpole just being luck? He can't afford to think about that. Luck can change. Which means Cazador, and everything else, no matter what Astarion does or prepares or succeeds at, can happen again. He's helpless. But no. No. He's not some helpless damsel in distress - his first meeting with you was mocking the very thought!
But look. These people are showcasing their helplessness, almost proudly. And it's horrifying. And they keep saying familiar things - they're saying things he's said, in his more vulnerable moments. And Tav keeps saying things like, "They had no choice - we have to help them." But of course these people did. They got themselves into this situation, they can damn well help themselves out of it.
Because if they didn't have a choice... then neither did all the poor bastards he sent to their deaths or horrendous punishments over the years. Neither did those he brought to Cazador. Neither will all the spawn he's going to sacrifice in the ritual. Neither did he. All that separates them from him is luck, and luck can change. He's not in control. The thought is horrifying, so he pushes back against it. "They're weak, pathetic [...] We are better." Even as he approves of getting Wyll out of the pact and getting Mayrina away from the hag, even as he wants Lae'zel to "break her chains", because he feels a kinship with them. Even as, in a rawer moment, he tells the story about being locked in a crypt and tells Tav not to judge him for what he had to do for Cazador. If he stops to examine that too much, he'll panic. Cognitive dissonance is a hell of a drug. So move on, keep desperately snobbing.
He keeps trying that even when Tav meets his siblings and treats them with empathy (empathy that confuses and horrifies him). "They lured thousands to their deaths," he tells Tav. "I doubt Baldur's Gate will miss them." Or him. If they had control, he had control too. Life before turning taught him that if you're punished for what you've done, with cruelty or with death in a ritual, the punishment implies you still had a choice. He vacillates wildly between victim-blaming and talking about them as helpless unfortunate sacrifices while he tries to get his head round this. Even while, as Tav insists on saying, all that separates him from them is a tadpole. His victims are "criminals and brothel-goers," he tries desperately to tell Tav later - look, they deserved it!
The breakthrough is when he finally admits that the spawn are "the innocent, idiots, and the unlucky." Just like the others whose chains you've helped break, through the acts (his approval slowly starting to turn round on some of them, as this realisation creeps up on him and gains speed). Just like him - he was unlucky. (Which means he didn't deserve two hundred years of enslaved misery, and the people on this journey didn't deserve what happened to them, either. Which means he deserves to be treated with kindness, and so do others.) He can turn from that, and keep desperately scrabbling for control with the ritual (he can command others! He'll "never have to be afraid of anyone, ever again"), or he can stay a spawn, and accept that.
The kind of control he wants is an illusion. You can never truly control others without losing yourself in the process. All you can do to change people is decide whether to help - to reach out and hope they reach back. He's seen this time and time again with Tav, saw it even before he woke up in the ground. It's just that finally, he's stopped outrunning the thought and accepted it. Sometimes he still backslides, sometimes he still sees those who hurt him in the ones Tav wants to help, sometimes he's still rather an arse... but he's starting to see it now.
#Astarion#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#Meta#There's a lot of headcanon in here too but eh#ie me rambling
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