#I truly believe if he had lived and was just a flat out part of the final season | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellecdc · 3 months ago

Note

okay then consider this a request!! for poly!marauders or just remus/james/sirius, whatever you prefer, for a reader with excruciating period cramps (self-indulgent because mine are horrible, but whatever!!) if you could do it that would be awesome ily!

ok I'm sorry I really made this very much self indulgent in maybe the worst way ever lol. I've been having a lot of fun with chef!Sirius lately, and had briefly discussed this idea with @maladaptiveescapism a while back so it felt fitting. I've also gotten a lot of period fic requests before and have never been all that interested in them which is so strange seeing as I'm a person who experiences period's and they're really popular? WOW sorry, what a tangent. TL;DR, thanks for your request, sorry if I ruined it a little, I probably won't ever write a period fic again lol

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who calls in sick to work because of her period [2.9k words]

CW: period fic, reader has PCOS, brief allusion to Sirius' shitty childhood, trans!Reggie agenda 'cause I can, Sirius worried reader won't be accepting of his trans brother (spoiler alert, we are because we love our trans homies), Sirius being the worst (positive & affectionate)

Sirius was on his best behaviour today.

Honest to god, hand to his heart, best behaviour.

But there was truly only so much one bloke could do when they had a Jeffery to deal with.

“I’m going to need one of your staff for the evening.” Jeffery said without preamble; standing half-in the kitchen with the swinging door to the floor propped open as if he wanted to ensure there were witnesses to this conversation should it go sideways.

“Jeffery, do you wake up every morning and smoke a bunch of crack before you come to work, or are you really just this dense?” Sirius spat as he dropped his pan in front of him and fought the urge to turn and give the floor manager a withering glare.

Jeffery, well seasoned to Sirius’ theatrics, bit back an eye roll as he carried on. “We need someone to cover the bar.”

Sirius did turn at that, but his withering glare fell somewhere between aghast and bemused. “The bar?”

“The bar.”

“Why?”

“I need coverage for Y/N.” Jeffery explained with a sigh, clearly growing tired of Sirius’ line of questioning.

“Where is she?”

“She has called in sick, chef.”

“Sick with what?” Sirius continued, causing Jeffery’s brows to furrow as he stared at Sirius bemusedly.

“I’m not exactly privy to those details, chef.” He explained slowly as if Sirius were some fussy toddler.

“I just find it hard to believe that the same woman who left the hospital after getting her shoulder reset to come work a full eight hour shift would call in sick.”

Jeffery offered him a shoulder shrug (and a concerned look up and down that Sirius pretended he didn’t notice) before pilfering one of the kitchen staff for the evening.

Sirius would worry about hating Jeffery later; he was more focused on figuring out what the hell was wrong with you and why you weren’t coming to see him to work.

Sirius had his phone wedged between the side of his face and his shoulder whilst he juggled the many go-bags he had in his hands as he stood awkwardly outside of the door to your flat.

He admittedly knew where you lived only because he had driven you home after numerous closing shifts.

Fortunately, the intercom system in the anteroom of your building gave away your unit number.

Unfortunately, Sirius still had his hands full with the various go-bags.

Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming in at the same time and let Sirius into the building.

Unfortunately, she insisted on chatting his ear off the whole lift ride up and actually held the door open to continue conversing even after they had arrived at her floor.

Sirius’ saving grace came in the form of the lift alarm buzzing for having kept the door ajar too long, and she was forced to bid him farewell.

Which brought him here; standing outside of your flat like some kind of stalker as he waited for you to pick up your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, open your door.”

“Well hello to you too, chef.” You snarked at him again.

“Yes, yes. I said hey, didn’t I? Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing on the other side of it.”

There was the sound of a quick exhale and rummaging. “Why?”

“Listen, I’d love to play 20 questions, but do you think you could let me in first?”

You muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a swear before the line ended.

He allowed his phone to slip out of its place and into his awaiting hand when you flung the door open unceremoniously.

Now, Sirius could tell you’d not been expecting any company today; you were in the same clothes you’d likely slept in, your hair was perfectly rumpled from whatever position Sirius had just disturbed you from, and you looked more than a tad embarrassed to see him standing here.

He had sort of hoped you would look like a troll; make this raging flame he carried for you burn a little softer.

But no.

You just had to look ethereal and perfect and lovely and kissable.

Damn woman.

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, interrupting the both of you from staring at one another.

“Helping?”

You made a breathy W sound - as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” but the words died on your lips as you took in Sirius’ many bags.

“What did you bring?”

“I’ll show you everything if you just let me in.” He muttered as he motioned towards one of your nosey neighbours who had shoved her head out of her door when she first heard Sirius in the hall.

You peered around your doorframe and narrowed your eyes at her before allowing Sirius entry.

“Finally.” Sirius teased as he moved to place his bags on your kitchen island.

Sirius had never seen the inside of your flat, but if he had simply stumbled into your space by accident he would have known it was yours immediately.

There was something so intrinsically you about your space that Sirius immediately felt at home too, even just for having stepped inside.

“Sorry.” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly; bringing one of your hands to the back of your neck as you considered Sirius and all of his bags. “We’d just been watching some shows.”

Sirius immediately felt his heart fall out of his arse.

We?

Had he read this completely wrong? Were you seeing someone? Was your home not simply yours, but one that you shared?

He found himself suddenly feeling quite defensive over your flat; it was too lovely, too wonderful, too comfortable for simply just anyone to enjoy.

“We?” He asked suddenly; tone taking on a bit of an edge he didn’t intend or consent to.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed behind you with your thumb; Sirius followed your gesture to a little tabby cat perched on the back of your sofa, tilting its head at the two of you as if it, too, was confused by Sirius’ sudden intonation.

“You were watching shows with your cat?” He clarified; his voice now breathy in relief.

“Birdie loves shows.” You countered defensively.

“You named a cat bird?”

“No.” You argued. “I named my kitten Birdie. Do you not like cats?” You asked then, a teasing smirk growing on your face.

“I like cats fine; where can I put this?” He asked instead; hoping to god you didn’t notice the blush heating up his face.

He started unloading the many take-away boxes he’d prepared for you at the restaurant before skiving off the rest of his shift.

“What is this?”

“Food.”

“Sirius, why did you-”

“I asked what helped.” Sirius explained. “You said food; I brought food. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet dollface, but food is kind of my thing.”

“Smartass.”

“That too.” He replied with a wink, moving to put the desserts in your fridge.

“Did you seriously come all the way over here just to bring me food?” You asked disbelievingly as you joined Sirius at the counter and peered into the bags.

Sirius had to tamp down the giddiness that threatened to consume him at how sweet and domestic this felt; you clad in your comfies as you helped him unload groceries.

“I didn’t come all the way over here just to bring you food…I brought other stuff too.”

“‘Course you did.” You muttered quietly, looking at Sirius with a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Go lay down.” He ordered instead as he went about plating your food - opening cabinets at random until he found what he was looking for. “I don’t hear laying down!” He sing-songed when he saw you still standing in his periphery.

You harrumphed before acquiescing; picking up your cat who made a little brrp sound as if to second Sirius’ directions.

Finally content with his efforts, he moved to stand in front of you with a glass of water and some pasta he brought from work.

You made an appreciative hum and sat up, which seemed to displease Birdie greatly. “God, maybe I need to find myself a personal chef.”

“Oi! Don’t go replacing me now.” Sirius scolded as he perched himself on your coffee table - perhaps a little casual for being a first time (uninvited) guest in someone’s home - but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh the job is so yours chef; you’re welcome here anytime.” You said around a mouthful of food. And even though Sirius knew you were joking, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering of his heart at the sentiment.

“This is really good, Sirius, and super thoughtful; thank you.” You offered earnestly.

“So I guess you don’t have any room for dessert, then?” He asked teasingly; his taunting smirk melting away immediately at the excitement that took over your face before he ran to retrieve it for you.

“Why is she doing that?” Sirius asked after a while, gesturing towards Birdie with his chin who was rubbing her head against the leg of his pants.

“Why’s she doing what?” You asked bemusedly as Sirius fought every urge to wipe the little bit of chocolate from your upper lip. Unfortunately thankfully for him, you licked it out of his sight.

“Head butting me; seems quite rude.” Sirius murmured as he watched the cat in bemusement.

“That’s basically a cat hug, Sirius; she’s hugging you, or saying hello.” You chuckled at him.

“Get out.” He scoffed in disbelief.

“Cats have little scent markers in their cheeks; when they rub against something, they’re affectionately claiming it as their own.”

“So like a dog pissing on trees?” He deadpanned.

“Affectionately claiming you as their own; offer her your hand, Sirius.”

“But what if she-”

“Chef, offer her your hand.” You barked at him with no heat.

Sirius narrowed his eyes challengingly at you but did as he was told; pleasantly surprised when the cat moved the rubbing from his trousers to his hand.

“Have you never met a cat before?” You asked as you considered him.

“No…I have.” Sirius offered slowly, admittedly enjoying the velvety soft fur of your little companion.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You teased as you placed your now empty dish on the side table.

“My family had a cat growing up; a horrid thing. I swear to god my mum taught him how to attack me. Loved my brother though, but was nasty as all get out to anyone else.”

“Really? Was he a stray before he lived with you?”

“Nope.” Sirius offered with a pop of the p. “Raised that fucker from kittenhood. Lived a god awful long time too, just to spite me; I wished every year on my birthday that it would die.”

“Sirius!”

“I’m not joking! My brother and I would sneak cupcakes up to my room and he’d light a candle for me and tell me to make a wish. One of them was always ‘please for the love of god let Kreacher die before me’.” He didn’t think now was the time to admit that his other wish was always ‘please for the love of god let us make it out of here alive’.

“That’s awful; you’re awful.” You laughed.

“No, Kreacher was awful; I was but a boy.”

“I can’t believe you got after me for naming my cat Birdie when you had a cat named Kreacher.”

“I didn’t have a cat named Kreacher, my brother did.” He responded haughtily.

“Who named him?”

“I did.”

“Why?” You laughed again.

“‘Cause he was a tiny, awful, hateful little gremlin and needed a name that said as much!”

The two of you laughed until your hands migrated to your abdomen and you began massaging into your skin; a small divot appearing between your brows.

“What is it?” Sirius asked quietly then.

You tried to shake your head and offered him a tight smile. “S’okay.”

“Is it cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“Lie back.” He instructed as he stood from his seat on the coffee table - his mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d seen him with such a lack of manners.

Good.

“Sirius, really, you’ve-”

“Lie back.” He whispered again, one hand on your shoulder as he gently guided you so that you were lying along your sofa with your head propped up on the armrest.

Stealing himself for perhaps embarrassing himself completely and making this whole precarious situation between the two of you go tits up, he finally shucked off his jacket and boots before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and lowering himself onto the bottom half of your couch.

You watched silently as Sirius situated himself between your legs so that his shoulders and head rested on your abdomen as he weaselled his arms under your back, placing both of his palms up against your lower back.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You’re tense as shit, doll; relax.” He murmured as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

You let out a breath and sank further into the couch as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered after a few moments.

“You already thanked me.” He whispered back.

“No, I-” You cut yourself off as you gathered your thoughts; a tentative hand absentmindedly making itself at home in his hair as you found your words. “Thank you.” You settled on.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius offered.

“Where’d you learn this?”

Sirius propped his chin up so he could at you; your hand pausing as your eyes flit to it as if you were only now realising what you’d been doing. “Learn what?”

“The pressure? The body heat. The…helping, with cramps?” You asked tentatively, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d think you perhaps looked a touch bashful at your questions - your eyes seemingly incapable of meeting his.

And once again, Sirius found himself taking another jump, or rather, a complete leap of faith that could very well have this thing the two of you had been building crumble and fall before it even had a chance to start.

“Uhm, it was my brother, actually.” He admitted quietly.

Your eyes did finally meet his at that, where they narrowed a touch in confusion.

“You learned this….from your brother?”

Sirius nodded as he swallowed nervously. “Right. He uhm, well, it often helped him with his cramps and such, so…yeah.”

It was apparently his turn to be incapable of meeting your eyes as he moved his head so that it was resting against your stomach again.

“You’re a good brother.” You finally offered.

“Well of course I am.” Sirius offered through a breath of relief. “I’m good at everything I do.”

“You’re a git.”

“I’m good at that too.”

You gave a disciplinary tug at Sirius’ hair which made him think of several sinful things he’d like to be doing with you whilst you did that next time, but he simply chuckled and sank further into you.

“I didn’t exactly sit like this with him, mind you.”

“No? What does that make me, then?”

“Special.”

“I guess so.” You breathed out through a chuckle. “Coming over on your day off just to spoil me.”

“It wasn’t my day off.” He responded without thinking, tensing when he felt you suck in a breath.

“Sirius.”

“Mhm?” He offered in faux nonchalance.

“You left work for this!?”

“For you?” He asked as he considered you. “Absolutely.”

“For gods sake, Sirius. I bet Jeffery-”

But he never got to hear what you thought of Jeffery as he let out a very petulant and dramatic groan and lowered his forehead to your stomach.

“Babe, I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but generally a man does not want to hear the name of another bloke when he’s in between your legs, yeah?”

You barked out a laugh and swatted at his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“Terrible.”

“The worst.”

“Absolutely horrid.”

“Giving Kreacher a run for his money.”

Sirius’ head shot up at that as he levelled you with a warning glare. “Too far.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“You better be.” Sirius grumbled as he lowered himself back down. “Now be a doll and play with my hair again; it’s nap time.”

And there was an equal chance that you were going to laugh, swat at him, or downright tell him to get his arse back to work.

But Sirius was admittedly overjoyed when you simply placed your fingers back into his hair and began to massage until you fell asleep; him not much longer after you.

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unitedhamilton · 5 months ago

Text

Luck

Summary: a resolution with flowers on the counter.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: here is part two of Flowers! I would recommend reading that first. Enjoy lovelies 💜

Lewis’ head shot up off the couch pillow when he heard the lock on the front door click.

He didn’t move when he saw you in the living room doorway. You broke the silence first.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Lewis.”

Then he saw you turn and go up the stairs.

Lewis dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t believe what the last few hours had turned into.

~~~~~

Lewis jogged up the steps, slightly out of breath as the Colorado freezing air kicked his ass. A crappy night's sleep and the change from Las Vegas weather had him struggling.

He opened the door and immediately saw Roscoe camped out on the welcome mat. While bending down to pet the attention seeker, he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You had a mug held to your lips with your phone in the other hand.

Lewis felt your eyes on him once he stood up. The light still hadn’t returned after a night of sleeping apart. It’s not like he expected anything different.

“Morning,” you greeted as you set your mug on the counter. You tucked your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. You kept talking, voice flat as it has been and Lewis didn’t like that. “I’m going to the store so if you need anything you can text me.”

Lewis walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass making his way to the sink to get water. He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say.

“Alright, I’m going. See you in a bit,” you said.

“What store are you going to?” Lewis asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. Sprouts perhaps. Maybe Trader Joe’s. Whatever I feel like when I get in the car.”

You started to walk out of the kitchen when Lewis spoke. He really shouldn’t have. He was still pent up from his run and over everything he caused.

“You’re not going to the store.”

You froze and slowly turned towards him, eyebrows raised. “We need groceries, Lewis.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes we do.”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” you put your hands on the counter, leaning towards Lewis, “the fruit and few vegetables I got yesterday barely feed you so we need groceries.”

To this, Lewis replied, “I’ll go with you.”

You barked out a laugh and shook your head.

“Don’t laugh,” Lewis ground out.

You both moved simultaneously, Lewis towards you and you towards the door. But, Lewis caught your wrist and pulled you towards him.

“Don’t laugh at me baby.”

“Lewis,” you whispered, in shock and maybe even surprise at your sudden closeness.

He walked you so your back was against the counter. Lewis reached into your back pocket and pulled your phone out placing it next to your hip.

“Why’d you throw the flowers away?” Lewis rumbled, you didn’t respond, he asked again, “why?”

“They were dried out.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Lew—“

“Why?”

“Just let it go Lewis.”

He pressed you harder against the counter. “Tell me, honey. Why did the flowers end up in the trash?”

“They were just flowers.”

“They weren’t.”

“You’re right,” you said quietly. “Once you stopped showing up they became just flowers.”

He dropped his forehead to yours.

Lewis didn’t mean to hurt you. Truly. You had the best vacation together, something he enjoyed every second of. No work, no responsibilities. Time together that was needed. He did have work he needed to handle when getting home but went about it the wrong way.

He had to fix what he did.

“Please let me go Lewis,” you whispered.

“No.”

“No? You can’t just say no.”

He moved his hands from your hips to around your shoulders pulling you into a hug.

He moved his lips to your ear and whispered, “I hurt you. I messed up and I hurt you.”

Lewis felt your arms lightly wrap around his waist. He tightened his arms and pressed his temple to your hair.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, baby,” he murmured.

“Fine Lewis.”

“Let me in, baby. Let me fix my mistake. I shut you out and I shouldn’t have.”

He pulled back and saw your hard exterior slowly crumbling. He didn’t let you go but gave you time to speak.

“We got back from a fabulous time together, Lewis. I would have supported you through whatever you were going through. You know I have supported you and always will,” you said quietly. “What am I supposed to do and think when you aren’t talking to me?”

Lewis placed a finger on your chin guiding your eyes together.

“Give me your eyes honey.” Once you locked eyes he continued. “I didn’t want to burden you with everything I was working through. I can’t tell you exactly why I did what I did. I knew it was wrong. I can promise you I won’t do it again.”

He saw you take a deep breath and sigh. He hoped you weren’t gearing up to keep arguing.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Lewis. But I’m not here to be thrown to the side when you’re stressed or whatever,” you flicked your hand off to the side. “I forgive you, but I’m not tolerating it again.”

Lewis felt the smile creeping onto his face. He heard you laugh quietly.

“Hug me baby. I’ve missed you.”

At that, you wrap your arms around his shoulder at the same time he hugs your waist. He missed the feeling of you. All parts of you.

You pulled back, Lewis not wanting to let you go, but loosening his hold, and seeing the smirk on your face.

He knew what was coming and braced for the incoming sass.

“Now, can we go buy groceries or are we going to stand here and starve?”

Lewis bent his neck and dropped his forehead to yours.

Then, his eyes locked with yours, he muttered, “Of course honey.”

“Then get off me and let’s go!”

“Fine, fine,” he replied, fighting a smile.

You looked into his eyes for a while.

Then you yelled, “let’s go Roscoe! You’re daddy stopped being an ass so we’re going as a family.”

Lewis closed his eyes and laughed. Then he moved and touched his lips to yours.

Then he let you go and watched as you went to get Roscoe’s collar and leash. With you out of sight, he went to the garbage can and pulled the flowers out. They’d deal with them together after shopping.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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themotherofhorses · 2 years ago

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you can pretend it's not meant to be (but you can't stay away from me)

summary: to you, he is fictional. but to him, you are everything and more. he can't live without you. and, really, there is no use in trying to run away, he'll always find you.

pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. noncon to dubcon. abduction. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part. breeding kink. slight spitting kink. pregnancy.

note: hey this is me practicing writing smut because ive never ever done it before and i don't know jackshit like wtf is a dick hahaha im dreading posting this hahahasendhelpplshaha

masterlist | series masterlist

part two | part three | part four | part five

How did you end up here?

That was all you could ask yourself, over and over again.

It had only been hours ago, maybe, that you were sitting at home, rewatching the first season of House of the Dragon for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Perhaps you dozed off on the couch too, but that was it. You have heard of shifting techniques before- ways to visit your favorite fictional worlds- but you never sought to try them out yourself.

College left you too busy with assignments and textbook readings, as well as the constant and unwavering pressure to maintain both your scholarships and high GPA.

Ever the dutiful and driven daughter, hungry for academic validation and success.

Oh, fuck, your scholarships!

Your GPA!

All those assignments and discussions and exams!

And what about your family? Your mother and father? And your best friend?

Aemond Targaryen seems not to understand your words, and why you tell, beg, and plead for him to let you go. “Please, I need to go home,” you cry loudly, while yanking at the thick knots that bound you to his bedframe, “please! My family, my friends. They will be worrying when they don’t hear from me, and all my hard work and accomplishments, it will be for nothing! Please, I beg you, let me go home.”

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead and says, “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m your family now. Or what is of it.” His lips feel so soft and wonderful, and how desperately you wish to enjoy the feeling. But not like this. You cannot think properly nor muster any sort of response, too distracted and stressed and focused on calming your breathing.

“Although,” he then adds with a smirk, “it truly is not considered a family until you have a babe of your own…or two.”

At his words, you tremble and whimper and try your best to break free, though it is all in stupid and foolish vain. There is no going anywhere, the knots are too tight and Aemond can easily overpower you. All you can do is stare up at the man you once considered your favorite character in the series, ever since the eighth episode aired and he stole your heart and soul and burrowed himself deep within your most inner thoughts and fixation.

“Do not worry,” he says, and you can see a twinkle in the violet of his eye. He rests a hand on your collarbone, gently drawing little shapes across the skin. “Good things will come out of this night, my love, I promise you that.”

Look on the bright side, you tell yourself, in some dumb attempt to steel your nerves, better Aemond Targaryen to lose your virginity to.

“You need to be quieter, my darling-” Aemond murmurs close to your ear “-we do not need curious ears listening in, do we?” He has you riding him, both hands clutching your hips as you do your best to bounce on his cock and match his thrusts. You’re sloppy and inexperienced, and a bit confused on what exactly to do, but it is so endearing that his lips curl into a grin.

Oh, you were made for me, he thinks, watching the way your glazed-over eyes try to hold his gaze. He will have you believe that by the end of the night, dawning if necessary.

There is much rush now that he found you, now that he has the chance to claim you.

You still moan, loud and high-pitched, and he slaps a hand flat over your mouth to shut you up. It makes your pretty and teary eyes widen more as you grab at his wrist, holding onto it while he tuts. “I’ll move my hand when you learn to listen to your husband and stay quiet. No one is allowed to hear my wife in her pleasure. No one but I.” At that, you bat your eyelashes at him, breasts heaving as he leans you down, so close your lips nearly touch, and Aemond can feel your heavy pants against his mouth.

“They will take you away from me, and ship you far across the world where I can’t find you,” he hisses, pinching your swollen nipple between his fingers, “I can’t have that. No, no, do you hear me? I will not survive being torn from you.”

The mere thought of losing you, either at the hands of his mother and grandsire or you returning to your homeland, fills him with sheer dread.

He does not know how to tell you that you are the girl of his dreams, everything he has desired and more. He has seen you in his nighttime slumbers and in the gleam of the summer sunlight and up among the black midnight stars.

But the words fall apart on his tongue, and all he can do is lay beneath you and marvel at your beauty: cheekbones and pretty puffy lips and the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows furrow in pure pleasure, and how you look utterly delicious and ruined.

“You were made for me,” he breathes in awe, palming at both your breasts. You have to believe him, this sweet and pretty girl of his, how could you not? The gods above created you for him, he will make you see it. “You are taking me so fucking well,” and Aemond flattens a palm against your belly, where he can feel the slight bulge of his cock. “Look at you, you’re my dream come true.” He thrusts his hips up, fucking into you harder and deeper. It makes you squeal and go cross-eyed.

“Is this too much? I know you can handle it, my darling. My love, my sweet girl,” he purrs.

Aemond swipes at the drool pooling at your lips before stuffing two fingers in. “Fuck,” he whines, breathing hard, slipping his other hand in between your thighs, and with his thumb, rubbing at your clit. Your face twists in a gasp as you tremble, your entire body tightening until you cream over his cock, your loud moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he hums, slowing his thrusts, “Such a good fucking girl. Look at that, did that feel good, my love?” he asks you.

You nod, rocking your hips back and forth. Your thighs shaking and your face scrunching in complete bliss as you start again, taking his cock deep in your stomach with tiny bounces. “Please- please- please-” you babble against his palm. “I-I want- I need-”

“Want what, my sweet girl? Need what, my darling wife?”

You don’t answer, too overtaken by the pleasure. Aemond chuckles and leans upwards, to bury his face between your breasts. You are absolutely stunning, gorgeous, a living goddess; how he went this long without you is baffling. “You wish for my seed. Is that what you want?” he mutters against your nipple, “of course you do, this belly is too empty, isn’t it? My son should be sleeping inside.” His fingers pinch your clit, and you gasp again. “You’ll be the prettiest mother. You were made to carry my children. You were made for me,” and he pulls your face back to his, with a rough grip on your chin.

“Tell me,” he demands through a pant, “tell me how fucking badly you need my seed. Tell me…tell me right now.”

“I- I need it-“ you choke out, but then you shake your head. “No- No I can’t! I- I need to go- go home!”

Aemond laughs, so hard he flings his head back. The sight takes you by surprise before he shoves you off, causing you to land next to him on the bed. You stare up at him, wide eyed and puzzled and swollen and covered in countless bites and bruises. In one swing, he forces your face into the pillow as he mounts you from behind, fucking you hard. His fingers return to your clit, squeezing and tweaking and not caring one bit about your muffled yelps and whines

“You’ll learn, my sweet girl, but perhaps not tonight. I am your home now, do you understand? I’m your family, your husband, and the father to your children.”

He grabs a fistful of damp hair and yanks your face back, never once slowing his thrusts. Your mouth is open with many moans spilling out, eyes clouded with tears, and cheeks flushed. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, “You are going nowhere.” Then propping himself on one arm, he trails small kisses up your back to your shoulder blade until his mouth slams down on yours in a heavy and wet kiss.

And when he pulls away, his fingertips squeeze your cheeks together as he demands for you to open your mouth. "You are mine," he grunts, "you belong to me," before spitting into it. "Good, now swallow."

And when you do, he smiles.

"There, see?" he coos, leaning to kiss your forehead as he feels you tighten around his cock. He was going to seed you again, deep inside your womb. Come the morning, he knows his son will be in there, and he can hardly wait.

"My wife, my darling girl, the only woman deserving of me and all of me. Only me." He watches you sob at that, pink lips pressing in a tight line as fat tears streak down both cheeks. "Oh, do not worry, my love. You're too lovely to be crying," and he uses his thumb to brush away the tears, "I'm here to give you the life you deserve," he vows, so lovingly, "you will want for nothing."

With a loud huff, you plop yourself on the couch.

The saying “home sweet home” never felt more sincere until now. It took much time and planning and effort and sneaking around on your part, but you managed to find a way to escape from Aemond Targaryen, though not without consequences. Your belly was growing only larger with every new moon, and your babe was starting to shift around more. At most times, you could feel the fluttering sensation across the bottom of your tummy, and every now and then, the tiniest kick.

It was adorable, you admitted, and you tried your best to find enjoyment throughout the pregnancy, sometimes wondering at night about who your child would resemble.

Would their looks favor yours? Or would they favor their father, with his Valyrian features- that iconic silver hair and violet eyes. The latter worried you the most. How could you even begin to explain why your child looked as if they belonged in the Game of Thrones series, specifically in House Targaryen?

Speaking of such, you had not touched House of the Dragon since you arrived back home all those months ago, too unwilling to turn on the tv and see the man whose child you were mysteriously carrying in your womb. It just did not make any sense, it felt more like a weird dream than reality.

But you were dying of boredom. The dragonling (you had taken to nicknaming the baby that, it sounded both cute and appropriate) was stealing away most of your time and energy, and your mother refused to allow you to do anything that could cause harm or add more unnecessary stress.

So you bit your tongue and swallowed down your grumbles and settled comfortably on the couch before opening Fire and Blood.

“Fucking crazy to think that this is a book of your family’s history,” you mumbled to your baby bump, “fictional my ass.”

So you read, to yourself and to your babe. Read about Aegon’s Conquest and the Year of the Three Brides and King Jaehaerys and his Alysanne and their triumphs and tragedies and legacy, and you read until you reached The Dying of the Dragons, the Blacks and the Greens, where you just sighed.

“And when Alicent sent for her second son to fly to Storm’s End, with the purpose of securing Borros Baratheon’s loyalty to Aegon II by winning the hand of one of his daughters, the Four Storms, the truth was finally known. One-eyed Prince Aemond, twenty and one, had taken a wife of his own in secret, a young maiden not of Westeros (according to Mushroom). Yet Prince Aemond lost her a month into their marriage, although by that time he had become so besotted with his bride, to such an extent that he could not bear the thought of living without her or taking another woman as his new wife.

With Prince Aemond refusing his mother’s orders, Queen Alicent had little choice but to send her youngest, Prince Daeron, in his place to Storm’s End. And by the seventh month, Prince Daeron wedded Floris Baratheon, and Prince Aemond One-Eye had reunited with his wife, who was heavy with child by the time he found her.”

You suddenly glance up from the book pages, feeling your heart hammering so hard in your chest that it seems at the end of your throat. On the wall, to your right, hung the calendar which you had taken to use as a means of tracking your pregnancy.

In two weeks, you’ll be at your seventh-month mark.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #vic writes 🧸

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

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ma’am we need some more ony smut.. you can never have too much 🙂

RAHHHHH😛

“you missed me baby?” ony grumbled, his hand tightening around the back of your neck as he fed you the deepest strokes you could possibly imagine. his dick was hitting all the right places and you were completely out of it. you thought it was a good idea to take a break from everything negative in your life and try to be happier and cleaner. which was great to ony until you sent him that wack ass text that he was included in the negative part of your life. the drug dealer was appalled, his body filled with shock and anger as he read your message over and over again.

future bm👩🏾‍🍼

‘this not gon work out no more ony’

‘you too toxic for me and i will never be truly happy and find a man that’ll treat me the way i deserve if i keep fuckin wit you’

ony was furious, but as the chill guy he was he decided against coming to your house or popping up at your job. he knew you would come back to him eventually because there was absolutely no way any man could be better for you than him no matter how “toxic” for you he was. he was a toxin you loved. all he sent was a quick ‘bet’ before moving on with his day, acting as if your words didn’t bring the worst anger out of him. days went by, turning into weeks and before you knew it a month had passed. you were living the happier life you knew you deserved and even started messing with a new guy. jean treated you nice, always picking you up from work and taking you to your favorite spots to eat. he kept you happy and healthy and ate pussy like you wouldn’t believe, but that wasnt enough.

he didn’t check you the way you wanted him to, wouldn’t manhandle you in the way that made you want to melt into the sheets, didn’t say things that would make your thighs shake or heart skip a beat. he didn’t fuck you the way you wanted, the way ony did. so it was only natural that to cut him loose in the end, and take your ass right back where you belong.

“hey mama how was your break” ony said with a smirk as he looked you up and down from his front door. his shirt was nowhere to be found as he stood in his durag and sweatpants. you kept your eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how needy you looked right now. “can i come in?” you whispered, your small voice sending a signal to his dick that it was time to wake up. ony loved how shy you got when you came to back to him, the feeling of pride creeping into his chest every time as he looked at your much smaller form practically beg for him without saying a word.

all he did was move to the side, leaving just enough room for you to walk in before closing the door behind you. ony took in the sight of your outfit. a pretty, yellow sundress that hugged all of your curves as well as some fuzzy little slides that showed the pretty pink paint on your toes. of course these were items he’s bought you, as well as the gold necklace and matching anklet with his initial on it. ony couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness for forgiveness, his dick now fighting with the restraints of his sweats as he watched your ass move as you walked towards his room in the dress he bought you.

before you made it to the bed, you felt his big hands grab at your waist, pulling your back towards his chest as he spoke lowly in your ear. “before we do this i gotta know…..you let him fuck you?” a rush of fear ran through your body, stilling you as you tried your hardest not to look guilty. the feeling of his dick poking your ass distracting you as you took a small breath of air. your action told ony everything he needed to know, a tinge of anger rushing through him as he moved his hand flat on your back before slowly bending you over the bed. “i-it wasn’t like you tho daddy” you whined, your voice dripping with fear as you tried to ease the pain of your actions, but it didn’t work. ony just continued on, lifting up your dress to find that you weren’t wearing any panties before slowly freeing his dick from the confines of his pants. “don’t run”

he thrusted into you without prep or warning, feeding you each and every inch of his dick as you screamed bloody murder in the sheets. your wetness already surrounding him as you felt him already begin to move in and out of you. “must be crazy” his voice was low and taunting, the feeling of his rough palms on your ass making your brain turn to mush. “w-we was never t’gether thooo, and y-you was mean t’me pa” you whined, your words slurred as you tried your best to reason with this man, but ony just scoffed. his hips moving harder and he slid his hand to the back of your neck. he pushed your face deep into the sheets, letting you release your screams there as he angled his dick downward towards your stomach.

“bitch we was always together. who pussy is this? say it” you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came through. just spit and tears reaching the sheets as your walls clenching tighter and tighter around his dick. usually ony would let this slide, but since you liked to go out fucking niggas he had to be a little more stern with you. a hard slap was sent to your ass, the sound bouncing off the walls of his room. the feeling lingered on the fatty flesh as you screamed into the sheets at the contact. “answer me when m’talking t’you mama. unless you want me t’stop” his threat instantly brought you back, your whines much more audible as you lifted your face from the sheets.

“n-nooo don’t stoppp” a smirk planted on ony’s face at your desperation, his hand rubbing the hot skin of your ass while he looked at the white ring of cream surrounding his dick. “then answer me” your pussy fluttered as you told him the words he wanted to hear. “s’yours daddy. s’your pussy” a smirk crept on his face, the golds on the canines of his teeth making an appearance as he moved both of his hands to your waist, pushing your stomach to the bed completely before quickening to a relentless pace. “uhh huh, now tell daddy you sorry” ony’s deep voice sent many shivers down your spine, your arch going even deeper as you felt his dick in your stomach. he pulled your head out of the sheets by your hair, giving you just enough room to talk to him as he continued his brutal pace on your sore pussy. “m’sorry daddy m’never gonna talk to him again”

satisfied with your response, ony gave you a quick “good girl” before easing up just a little, his dick hitting your g spot a little gentler as he pulled your back towards his chest, his hand around your middle as he moved his other towards your chin. his brown eyes looked deep into yours as he searched for any lie, but he found none. ony smiled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure. your release rushing towards you as you fucked your self back on his dick. “you missed daddy baby? missed me right here?” he said, his hand rubbing on your stomach as he felt your walls clench in agreement. you nodded your head, letting out a small “yea” before moving your hand towards your chest, your eyes never leaving his as you pushed down on where your heart was. “m-missed you r-right here too” ony felt his heart swell at the sight, his grills completely bare to you as he gave you a happy smile.

“missed you more mama, next time you touch another nigga ima kill him y’hear me?” your pussy fluttered at his words, eyes struggling to stay straight as you mirrored ony’s smile.

“i hear you”

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black reader #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!y/n

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heartpascal · 2 years ago

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i’ll be brave

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways that one.

▹— a/n: prepare for many father figure joel fics bc i love him!! also this is not the best thing ever but i love joel so!! hope you guys enjoy <33 planning on doing some more platonic fics where we see them develop more but alas. this is what you get rn!!

▹— tags: @loversdomain

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Growing up in the QZ was all you had ever known, your life limited to the walls that surrounded you, trapped you. You’d heard stories about the world outside, though it was such a foreign concept to you, both of horror and nostalgia.

Until Joel, you were certain you’d never see it. The guards that patrolled were too strict, at least where you lived. It was easier to sneak further in than it was to get out, heading towards where most of the residents lived and worked.

Your father would’ve worked here, you thought to yourself, the very first time you’d managed to get into the centre of the QZ. He would have lived and worked and would have known your mother here. Sometimes, you wonder what life could have been like if he hadn’t of died mere weeks after you’d been born. There was a part of you that longed to know where he was from, actually from, before the world fell to pieces. To know his accent, the sound of his voice, the way he acted… anything.

They told you that your mother fled the day he died, leaving you abandoned in a flat crying for hours until the neighbours finally had enough and cracked open the door, finding you there: alone.

That’s how you had lived your life since, alone. Facing the current world with nobody to teach you, nobody to protect you, to help you escape.

You’re sure that Joel finding you was a miracle, though most people didn’t believe in those anymore, or so you were told. But you were certain that if one was to exist, it’d be this man.

The man who, despite his unwelcoming appearance, had hauled you away from the guards who had tried to beat you until you learned the lesson they were teaching. Who had given you shelter even when he knew nothing more than your name, who had lended you blankets and clothes to keep you warm.

Joel himself certainly wasn’t expecting you — your presence scared him. That day, when he saw those guards attacking you, he felt a glimpse of who he used to be in the life before, and he was unable to walk away. It terrified him, more than any clicker or runner ever could, that he may have some humanity left within him after all.

After Sarah, he turned his nose from anyone who could’ve needed his help. Other than those exempt from that, such as Tommy or Tess, he decided that it wasn’t his business.

But when you called out, being struck again by two armed guards, grown adults, something inside of his chest snapped. Like a tether that had been pulled far too taut, frayed away until the tension was too much to bare. He vividly remembers the blood that had dropped from his hands as he pulled you to your feet, remembers the way it matched the droplets that stained your face.

He wasn’t planning on you becoming part of his and Tess’ little… group, but once he found you, you seemed to stick. You didn’t particularly want to leave, anyway, and when the duo didn’t kick you out? You figured there was no harm in staying.

Now, you travelled with them, earning your place among the two adults, even when they suggested you stay home, where it was the slightest bit safer.

They had refused your requests to come with them on runs for a while, but the first time they allowed it was imprinted on your brain as if branded there by hot metal.

The brightness that came with being outside of the QZ was something you truly didn’t expect, though that could’ve just been in your brain. The QZ was dull, full of grey walls and faces and dirt, but out here was full. Greens and yellows and everything between covered the horizon, and you squinted to see as much of it as you possibly could.

Joel had huffed at you, nudging you lightly to keep you moving, but he wasn’t angry. He and Tess had shared a look, something going between their silence that you didn’t understand, and in that moment, you didn’t care to.

By now, you’d been coming on runs with the two of them for a few months, here and there. When they deemed it wasn’t too dangerous, of course.

Which is why today’s occurrence was so odd — it was a regular run, with you spending all your time in the great outdoors admiring everything that surrounded you, something akin to wonder in your eyes. Seeing all the buildings that had crumbled not long after your birth, taken over by nature and its most fearsome monster; cordyceps. As soon as you approached the desired hit of the day, you put your game face on. It was like flicking a switch in your brain — one second, you could have no worries in the world, stuck in your own head as you wandered around. The next, it was like every movement echoed in your ears, the slightest of sounds drawing your attention.

It was meant to be safe.

That is what Joel and Tess had said — god, that was the only reason they let you join them today, on one of their rare daylight outings: the safety factor.

So imagine your surprise when you slipped, ankle twisting as it went through the creaking floorboards of the building, followed by the clicking.

It was like your whole body froze solid, every muscle fibre tensing and pulling taut, eyes wide — a deer in headlights, Tess might’ve described you as, if her heart hadn’t have been beating so fast it could’ve burst.

Your head swivelled towards where Joel stood, just in front of you, to your right. He stared at you, something dark in his eyes, and you swallowed harshly as he held a finger to his lips, shushing you.

Each of your breaths came out silently, the only sound being the echoing clicks before the footsteps started coming towards the three of you, directly from your left. You swore you could hear the drip of blood in the quiet between each footstep of the monster.

You kept your eyes towards Joel and Tess, as much as you wanted to look to your left, where the sounds were starting to get louder. You watched them as they shared a conversation through their eyes, a nod of understanding held between the two of them. Joel’s expression was pained, but Tess put on her best brave face, giving you a wink.

“Hey, asshole!” Tess yelled, before scrambling to run ahead, a screech echoing in your ear, deafening you. Your breath hitched as she ran, and the clicker followed before your eyes.

As soon as its attention was on Tess, Joel was grasping you underneath your armpits, hauling your leg out of the hole it had fallen in. You held in your cries and winces as the broken floorboards left splinters and cuts all along your calf, your ankle hurting like a bitch.

He was pulling you out before you could utter a word, and by the time he managed to get you outside, your blood had covered your shoe. He leant you against the broken wall that had surrounded the building, ensuring you could stay upright — though you couldn’t put pressure on your leg — before he barked out a, “Stay here!” and ran back inside for Tess.

Your heart was beating in your ears, your throat clogged up as you did your best not to cry. This was your fault — had you not insisted upon joining them again, they would’ve never been put in this situation. They could die in there, and you were stuck out here, unable to even stand on your own two feet.

The pain in your leg was worsening now that you weren’t in imminent danger, though you were sure you were going to pass out when you heard the gun fire a single round.

“Are you guys okay?” You all but yelled as soon as you saw them emerging from the door, Tess leading, seemingly unharmed, with Joel following in much the same condition.

“We’re fine,” Tess breathed out as she approached you, leaning against the wall beside you. “It’s dead.”

“Are you alright?” Joel asked, his hand grasping on to your forearm, keeping you steady where you were shaking, holding yourself up against the rough surface of the wall. You nodded, breath still not able to properly filter out past the lump in your throat.

He knelt in front of you, hands reaching out and pulling the trouser leg up to see the full extent of your injury properly.

“Shit, kid,” he sighed out, looking up to Tess, “we’ve seen worse. We can manage.” He dropped the backpack where it was hung on his one shoulder, digging through it to tape some spare cloth around your injury, taping it around your ankle to keep it secure, too.

When he finally got you on your feet, silence lingering between all of you, he had to help you carry your own weight all the way back to your home in the QZ.

By the time you had managed to pick all the splinters out of your leg, Joel and Tess had gone to their beds, leaving you in the ‘living room,’ alone.

You felt sick, knowing you could have gotten all three of you killed today, just because you wanted a taste of the world that had long since decayed past anything worth wanting. Finally left on your own, the tears spilled past your eyelids, cleaving clean lines through the dirt and muck that caked your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but feel terrified, like you could still hear that damned creature coming for you. Like its footsteps echoed in your own home, right now.

With a fearful sob, you looked up to where you swore the sound come from, only to find Joel approaching, frown present on his face. His eyebrows were creased upwards, taking his expression from grumpy to worried.

Without a word from him, he came and sat beside you on the couch, wrapping the blanket that usually stayed firmly on the back of it around your shivering shoulders.

You clutched at it, wanting nothing more than to hide underneath it and pretend the entire day hadn’t happened — you wanted to forget the fear that shredded your veins, leaving your heart hammering. If you could just lose the entire memory of today, you would in a heartbeat, because the idea of leaving the QZ again with Joel and Tess made you feel sick.

Joel sighed, coming to kneel in front of you after you continuously avoided looking towards him. His hands reached out to your leg, the movement sending deja vu straight through you. He checked over your injury again, wrinkles caused by his frowning getting deeper. “You know it’s all okay, right?” He checked, finally, unsure what else to say in the quiet you usually tended to fill.

“It’s not o—okay, Joel,” you sobbed out, barely even breathing between your cries, “I al—almost got you and Tess kill—killed.”

“No, no, listen to me, kid. The… situation today was not your fault. Hear me? Not your fault. We thought it was safe, it wasn’t, that happens. We’re just glad you’re okay. Mostly.” He added on, nodding towards your bruised and bloodied leg.

“I tried so h—hard to be brave,” you continued, now even more hysterical as you thought of the way that thing approached you, how it could’ve killed any one of you had you made the slightest noise.

“I know,” Joel said, and he returned to your side at the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing it with his hand. “You were very brave, and I’m sorry you had to be.”

Part of Joel couldn’t help but feel like this was too much, too reminiscent of the daughter he’d lost. It made his head spin, even as he pulled you closer at the sound of your continuous cries, the way you could bring back that piece of him, the piece with some kind of humanity.

You didn’t have anybody else. All you had was Tess and Joel, and all he had was you and Tess, at least while his brother was out of town. This thing you had built, during the apocalypse and all, was a family.

“C’mon, kid,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his hand, “It’s alright. We’ll go out just to see the outside, next time. No risk of infected.”

“No, I—I don’t want to get you guys hurt again.” You responded, shaking your head and feeling your tears slow, remembering the pain that burned through your leg. You didn’t want to experience anything like today ever again, even if that meant staying inside the walls of the QZ for the rest of your life. “You didn’t even get what we went out for, because of me.”

His chest lurched, and he huffed a frustrated breath. “I don’t give one shit about that,” Joel said, leaving it to you to catch on to the end of that sentence that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. I care about you.

You couldn’t tell him how you truly felt — like dead weight, a burden they couldn’t get rid of. You stayed with them, ate their food and used up their supplies, and now you were ruining the only way for them to get a decent income, too. It’d upset him, hearing you say that aloud. You knew it would.

“I just… I don’t want to end up alone.” You translated, the best you could do to tell him that you needed the two of them, for more than just the ability to survive they provided you with.

You knew they missed the old world, everybody who had lived before the outbreak did, as much as they tried not to think about it. It was a deep longing for something you would never know. While their world was gone, they were your world.

Joel’s arm squeezed you close, like all the words that refused to leave his lips could be heard that way.

In a way, it told you everything you needed to know.

Your eyes closed soon enough, and you missed the look that crossed Joel’s face, the warmth in his eyes that he never thought would return after the loss of his first daughter. And yet here it was, present and warm as ever, as he looked at where you’d fallen asleep resting against him.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller father figure #platonic joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal imagine #heartpascal writes

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

Breaking the Curse

a Gargoyle Eddie story

Words: 792

This is a short smut blurb inspired by a conversation I had with @2clones-1kamino about needing some balrog/demon/gargoyle Eddie, and of course I have to make it so he's in love.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part4

gargoyle!Eddie Moodboard

It started out innocently enough. There was no way you could’ve known about the curse.

There was no way you could’ve known that the huge, 7ft stone gargoyle statue in your aunt's garden had once been a living, breathing man.

You used to visit every summer as a kid. You painted watercolor pictures of him and introduced him to your friends. You called him Goyle. He was your Goyle, and you truly believed that he looked out for you, even though he was just an inanimate statue at the time.

The years rolled on, as they do, and soon enough, you were an adult. You spent years away, having your own adventures, and making a life for yourself. Slowly but surely, you forgot about Goyle, until one summer, your aunt passed away, and you returned to pay your respects.

In the past few years away from the gargoyle, your life had taken a horrible turn. You’d lost several jobs and a relationship, and now your beloved aunt had died mysteriously. After the funeral, while still in mourning, you found your way out to the garden after nightfall, coming up behind his dark stone body hunched on a pedestal just beyond the archway hedge, near the rose bushes. The curve of his bare ass, long spade tail curled around his hip, and chiseled wings pulled down tight against his body, his big head arching down, as if in shame or penance.

You let your fingertips drag along his hip as you passed; the full moon was the only light you needed because you knew Goyle by heart. You knew that demon face with the handsome snout, full lips, two horns curled flat against his head, and wide-set eyes; he was carved from stone, but yet his expression always seemed to change for you. Tonight, you could tell he was hungry.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” you cooed, slightly buzzed on spirits, as you got on your toes to take his face in your hands and kiss his snarl of a mouth.

That was when two, big, flesh hands cupped your face in return, claws digging into your head softly, and your lips melted against his with unbridled eagerness. His tongue slipped out long enough to swipe the back of your throat; it tickled, and you pulled back to see that his eyes were a warm brown, and dark hair grew down along his demon face, making him half human.

You barely had time to whimper before you heard the stone crack as he jumped down from the pedestal with a swoop of his wings and a thud—the ground shook--- and then he took you into his arms. You clung to the rock-hard muscles of his back until he stretched you out on the grass so he could rut you with his face; smelling, licking, grunting, from your neck to your aching pussy that was now showing signs of your arousal.

You didn’t speak his ancient language, but just as his snarling mouth made claim to your swollen slit, he said, “need to taste you,” and “you’re mine,” before fucking you with his forked lizard tongue.

You grabbed onto his horns as his massive shoulders spread your legs wide, and the claws dug in, lifting your hips up so he could lick your slit front to back, making you shiver and cum; he was hungry to taste every inch of the woman he loved. The centuries he'd spent waiting for you had been long and lonely.

Mounting you from above, his demon face inches from yours, he could only get the tip in an inch before you cried out, stiffening under him, and his curious eyes found yours as he went slow, stretching you out with purpose, desperately needing to plant his seed deep inside your womb.

Your hips rose up to meet him, moaning, eyes rolling back in your head. His long hair grazed your cheeks, your hand clinging to the muscles of his thick neck. He was mumbling words to you in that old language you’d never heard before, growling at you in a way that made you say, “fuck yesyesyes,” as you came again, twitching, pussy pulsing on the biggest cock you’d ever had before as it impaled you.

He was grunting words as he shot endless pulses of cum inside, thrusting base deep, filling you to the brim until it poured out. His dragon scale wings opened up and his head tossed back in a primal howl. You wrapped your legs around him at the end, planting sweet kisses on his face, and whispered things to each other, words of affection that neither one of you understood.

The next morning, after an evening of too much alcohol and grieving, you wondered if it has all been a dream.

But your cunt bore the residual tenderness and your inner thighs were still sticky with his spend. Your fingertips feathered along the claw marks on your bare hips as you gazed out over the garden with a confused smile.

The stone pedestal was empty, and your Goyle was gone.

#eddiemunson #eddiemunsonsmut #oneshot #eddie munson oneshot

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shantechni · 9 months ago

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I noticed this a looooong time ago, but I didn't mention it and sort of kept pushing it aside as an unimportant detail. After coming across this for, like, the fifth time though, something finally strikes me as supremely odd, and it's these two simple lines Leo says in the first episode of S2.

Between the S1 finale and the S2 premiere, Splinter told his sons that he defeated the Shredder when they faced off in the hideout. Not only that, he told them they'd never see the man again because he lost his honor, but both of these statements are immediately proven to be contradictory to what actually took place, as well as to what Splinter believes about the Shredder's way of thinking.

Anyone who has watched the S1 finale, specifically the second part, knows that the fight was brought to a screeching halt when Karai ran in to stop Splinter from finishing off the Shredder. And, after seeing just how deeply influenced Karai has been to hate him, Splinter left in a hurry to avoid fighting who he now knows is his thought-to-be-dead daughter.

Now, it makes sense that Splinter didn't tell the boys Karai interrupted the fight considering she was a touchy subject, one he didn't approach all of his sons with until midway through S2 in The Manhattan Project. He was still coming to terms with the revelation himself, and his avoidance of everyone's questions tells us that he genuinely didn't want to explain why Karai believed he killed her mom. In the process, he'd have to get into the reason Shredder led Karai to believe that lie and yadda yadda.

So, not telling them Karai was there makes sense. But why tell them the Shredder was defeated?

Something like that would be believable if he didn't imply any finality by telling them the Shredder was taken down, because he goes on to wonder outloud if their enemies were truly defeated and even reaffirms that, "The Shredder is a crafty and patient foe who bides his time." But Leo clearly says that Splinter told them they'd never see him again after he apparently lost whatever honor he had left. And we can't point fingers at any potential dialogue or writing error because they make sure the audience hears that Splinter did indeed facilitate this calm behavior of theirs.

One can wonder if he didn't truly intend to flat out lie, but rather to placate his sons by withholding a harsh truth and giving everyone the time they need to revel in their victory. However, that's another odd decision for Splinter to make since he's usually the one to remind his sons that none of their enemies will stay gone for long, the first and most notable instance of this being when they first encountered Bradford and Xever.

Anyways, after Leo says what he says, Splinter takes offense to Raph casually adding that they'll take care of the Shredder if he does come back, and, upon realizing that his prior statement has heavily blanketed them with a false sense of security, he harshly tells his sons the month long celebrating is over.

Honestly, even though I said sugar coating is very out of character for someone like Splinter, it's the only sensible answer for him lying to the guys. And probably himself for a minute there, too.

He knows the Shredder isn't honorable. He's traitorous, underhanded, and full of spite for those he feels wronged him. Oroku Saki is a vengeful man who has been undeniably wronged in his past, but refuses to learn from it and will shift the blame onto those undeserving. He's tenacious in the way he literally left Japan with a singular image of a Hamato clan shuriken as proof that he has another chance to kill someone he used to call his brother.

Splinter knows all of this, but he still went ahead and made the morally dubious decision to construct a perfect, short-lived world where he could tell his sons they wouldn't have to worry about the Shredder again.

And where he doesn't have to face the gravity of the changes yet to come.

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lyramundana · 10 months ago

Text

No feelings involved...right?

Prologue and Part 1

Warnings❗: Implied baby trapping, dubious consent. It all happens at the end.

If their current predicament could be resumed in one sentence, it'll sound like a mother's voice saying "I told you so".

They didn't plan it. It all started with a small mishap, a consequence of their exhaustion and the amount of issues going on in their personal lives. Then the mishap repeated itself, and then they decided to turn it into a game for their own pleasure, no strings attached to her. Then the game grew beyond their control and became a mountain of lies, too big to seize them.

Jisung first met her through a friend of his, and although he found her beautiful then, she didn't catch his attention beyond that. They met frecuently, since they both ran in the same circle of friends, and after one night being left alone by their drunk friends, they spent the time talking and turned out they had more in common that he thought. They clicked, in a way it's hard to explain, but just felt like he knew her since forever. They went from mere acquaintances to suddenly having her name appear at the top of his contact list along with Minho's.

Minho met her through his boyfriend, of course. He first saw her when Jisung brought her home to hang out, without even warning him about it. Their introduction was pretty formal, quick. They shook hands, made some small talk and Jisung inmediatly stole her attention again. Minho wasn't interested in befriending her and viceversa, but Jisung was their common point and she eventually became a regular presence in their apartment, so they really had no option but get along. Forced proximity and all.

Jisung has always known a lot of people, plenty of familiar faces that tend to flock towards him wherever he goes, but few of them can say they truly know him. Jisung cracks jokes, plays long with them, but rarely speaks about himself. He keeps a careful, calculated distance, because he knows that despite all those smiles and compliments, they only see the surface, what they want to see, and don't care about the rest. Which it's okay, it comes with the job, and this facade actually helps to keep undesirable people away without being rude. But she...she's different. From the moment she spoke to him and he listened, he found there was more to her than what she showed. Like him, she never allowed people to see beyond the surface, simply letting them believe the version they liked to spare herself the headaches. She understood him. And for the first time in years, Jisung felt a genuine connection to someone besides Minho.

The funny thing is that they don't talk that much, outside those events where the whole group meets and they stick together to not get bored. And when they get to talk, it's mostly about stuff only they know and deep, phylosophical converstations where they discuss the meanings of life. Maybe, if he's in a certain mood, he complains about a recent argument with Minho and asks for advice, but that's not the norm with them. When he brings her home is to get drunk over petty drama and gossip, without the others. They just fall back in the comfortability of a quiet friendship where no small talks were needed and they could simply let go of their masks.

Things between Minho and her weren't ideal at first. The few times they interacted was when she was at their flat, usually drunk and leaving a mess, and he got mad at it. He could look past it when it was Jisung, but having a stranger doing it was something else. He made sure of letting her know after the drunk haze, barely holding back the bite in his words. He expected her to get offended or feel embarrassed, but no. She never showed an ounce of shame, instead replying him with the same snarky tones, and sometimes that small lopsided grin of hers that made his blood boil. But what started as mostly petty arguments and cold greetings turned into a sense of complicity when they realized their humour was similar and they both acted like Jisung's babysitters more often than not.

Minho is used to be misunderstood. His resting bitch face, his brutal honesty, his reserved demeanour and that perpetual indifference in his face that rarely expressed emotions. People were quick to form opinions about him and not all were good. He was considered cold, arrogant, a snob that didn't like to mingle with those he saw "beneath him", you get it. Most wondered how someone so sweet and cheerful as Jisung could fall for him. It's okay for Minho, he doesn't see the point in caring for what strangers may think. The people he loves know him for who he is and that's enough. Then she came, all carefree and playful and open-minded. Jisung only spoke good things about her, but Minho knew his boy could be biased. Until they started talking and he found out she was truly different. She wasn't intimidated by him, even though he pulled the worst of him sometimes with her around, but she never reacted on it. She was quick to stand up against him, all prideful and confident. And her lack of respect felt like a wheeze of fresh air. After being constantly misjudged, it felt nice to have someone apart from Jisung that made an effort to see through his facade.

Before they noticed it, she became a constant in their lives. Even if they didn't meet often, even if the phone calls sometimes got short, she was present and they felt it. Whenever they needed a favour, she was the safest option. When something juicy happened, she was the first person they called. Even when their fights got brutal and they had no one to seek advice from, her door appeared in front of their eyes.

She never turned down, although her complaints were very much heard. She acted as a bridge between them both when they refused to take the initiative, pushing them to apologise and communicate their problems and feelings. Minho was stubborn, but Jisung could easily win him at times, and persuade them to move past it was a pain. Nevertheless, she did it every single time, to the point the walls of her house and the natural scent that filled it became so familiar to them.

They genuinely don't know when things started to change. They talked it before and both agreed she was beautiful, easy to the eyes, but nothing more. Sure, she was a vital part of their lives now but that's all they wanted her to be. At least that's what they told themselves until that night behind that club, when they tasted her for the first time and found the missing piece they had been bothering them for so long. That annoying empty space in their sex life that have appeared coincidentally shortly after meeting her..

Of course, things couldn't be the same after that mindblowing experience, not like they wanted it to either. They planned the whole affair while she slept in their arms, dead to the world. It was easy to convince her, with her body still vibrating by the last events and her mind still waking up. Granted that wasn't exactly correct from their parts, but they were slightly desperate and the idea of letting her go after that sounded awfully wrong.

And so that was the start of their downfall.

Looking back, they asked for it. At first it was all very natural. They were still friends but now they also fucked sometimes. She was open to every kink and preference of theirs, and she also introduced them to her own tastes. No commitment, no explanations expected or needed. But when their encounters became more often it got harder to stay away from her, they had her sign an NDA to continue. Which was..okay, not something they accounted for but it wasn't necessarily a problem.

No, the problems started when their feelings began to get in the way of the commitment-free arrangement they wanted.

Their doll was a gorgeous creature, a delightful sight for sore eyes, and they knew it. She was like this when they met her and they had no problem with it, Jisung even admired it and made jokes about it, about how ridiculous easy those idiots fell for her charms, scrambling on their feet to get an ounce of her attention. But at some point, seeing such scenes evoked less amusement and more disgust. And following disgust, there was something else. Something twisted and painful and deadly that climbed to their throats when another worthless scum tried his luck with her. Minho could heard this tempting voice in his head telling him to rip their guts out and Jisung imagined a number of creative scenarios where he taught that bastard a lesson.

Sometimes, those voices told them to grab their precious doll and drag her away from those dirty hands, keep her near where they couldn't lose her, which was weird because she meant nothing to them. Just a close acquaintance they casually fucked from time to time very often. And yet...

These sudden, strange emotions were translated in their bed.

The sex with her was always rough and fast, and the only aftercare that ocurred was sharing a smoke in bed over some small talk. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. Their usual routine felt short, uncomplete, unsatisfying. The mouths started to trace her face, her body, the marks they left on her. Their movements turned slower, more gentle, more precise. They wanted to see how it was when she burst in pleasure, when she gave herself up entirely in their arms. They kissed, caressed, worshipped the entirety of her skin, and they whispered words of praise in her ears for the duration of it. And when it was done, they needed wanted her close, lulling her into sleep as their arms trapped her against them.

"You're doing so, so well, doll. Can you give us one more, please? You look lovely like this."

"Look at you, already crying and shaking. Shh, it's okay, love, we got you. Leave it to us, okay'"

But when they couldn't stand that twisted feeling in their guts, after seeing some other clown trying to steal her away, both men turned animalistic on her. They were all confused at this change, and the two of them couldn't explain where did it came from. They just felt the urgent need to cover her in bites, scratches and hickeys, in every place where those undeserving eyes feasted upon. ¿How dare those assholes? ¿Didn't they know she was with them? ¿Had they no shame? ¿Did they really think they stood a chance?

"That's it, keep looking at us, slut. That's where your eyes should always be. ¿What the fuck were you thinking, uh?"

"¿You wanted him to fuck you too? Is that it? You greedy whore. Clearly we need to fuck you more. We'll make sure you can't even talk or walk without our help."

And it didn't end just there. They started to bring her to their dates, inviting her everywhere they went, giving her their clothes. They had love-hate feelings towards her revealing dresses, because as much as they enjoyed the view, they hated seeing others do the same. She became part of their routine, outside the sex part. She was always there. And as time passed, it felt like she had been there since the beginning. They hardly remembered how things were before she came.

But they kept lying to themselves, lying to everyone. This wasn't anything. They could stop whenever they wanted to. There no other feelings involved. Of course not.

And things finally went downhill when someone asked them:

"So, that girl that's always with you two, what's the deal with her? Is there something serious going on? Because you have to introduce her to us, then."

That question struck them. Brutally.

They never thought too much about it. Things with her just...happened naturally, and they barely noticed it. They simply followed their instincts at the time, not realizing the weight those actions could hold. ¿What was the deal with her, truly? Granted, she was more than just a quick fuck, but still. And what was up with them? Why the fuck did they want to meet her? She was perfectly fine where she was.

At the end of the day, the three of them moved in different worlds. There were things about themselves they couldn't tell her, things she would never understand. Maybe that was better, they thought. To keep her away from that circus of drama and lies and dirty secrets they were part of. She didn't belong there. And to keep her far away from idiots butting their noses where they shouldn't.

So they quickly defused the situation. She was just an acquaintance, they didn't really know her, yeah. They already had each other, it had always been just each other. She meant nothing.

If she did, where did that leave them?

¿Were they supposed to know someone was going to post their answer on social media? Were they supposed to know she would see it and demand explanations too?

Yes

They never saw her so angry, so emotional. She was bursting in anger and sadness and dissapointment, and they could both feel how their hearts stopped at the sight. It didn't feel right.

When she started to speak, they sort of panicked. They couldn't control the situation this time, they couldn't control her, and they didn't have proper answers for it. At least, not the kind of answers that would help them.

Most of all, they were confused. As she confronted them with facts, about how their strange behaviour with her and their motivations, they were forced to acknowledge the reality of everything.

That she meant more than they thought. Way more than they wanted her to. It was a liability. A problem. An unexpected turn of events they weren't prepared for.

And because they weren't prepared, they simply said the words that sounded logical at the moment. Cold statements of what they all knew, of what they agreed on the beginning. They didn't truly mean it, as they would realize later, but they felt cornered. And at the moment, the only strenght they could rely on was their pride.

They foolishly thought she would stay after that. That she would see their point of view and calm down.

As expected, she didn't. When it fell on them the terrible error they made, it was late. She left the place. Emptied it of whatever part of her and blocked them from her life.

And as expected, the aftermath was fucking disastrous.

Being deprived so suddenly from her presence after getting used to have her near everyday was hellish. No more calls, no more dates, no more lazy afternoons in the couch. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in their lives that they couldn't fill, no matter how much they tried. And god knows they did.

No vice or person could replace the feelings she invoked in them.

They turned down invitations, calls of friends, choosing to stay at home and just hang out by themselves. Staying at home too long drove them insane, but going out wasn't much better. She was everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the people. It was a nightmare.

When a close friend of theirs invited them to the opening of club, they only accepted in hopes for a distraction, and to keep appareances a bit. But the cold, boring night inmediately acquired a brilliant colour when they saw her.

More beautiful than ever, with her pretty dress and carefully done make-up. Her damned smile brightened the whole club and, for a moment, they felt in peace. Like nothing changed.

Until they saw she wasn't alone. Her warm arms, who used to be held by them, were now occupied by other men. Some they didn't know. A pair of strangers taking their rightful places, and she just laughed and danced with them like it was normal.

They spent the whole night like that, watching her and brooding, with that familiar green boiling in their stomach. She looked gorgeous, out of this world, and it wasn't fucking fair. That should be them. She should have been with them, filling their ears with her cute laugh and letting them wrap their arms over her.

Deep down, they knew they fucked up. It was solely their fault. They had their chance to make her stay, to trap her, and they messed up. ¿Why did things have to be this way? Why did they have to realize the size of their mistake in a moment of jealousy? It was stupid.

When they saw her walking outside alone, they exchanged a glance and they knew it.

They made several mistakes, but they learnt from them. Having her hating them was better than not having her at all, so they followed.

It was so easy to fall back into routine. She was already weakened by their presence, and it was the same for them too. Some yelling here and there, insults being thrown back and forth, a bit of fighting, but they ended up right where they wanted: Locked bathroom, against a wall, and the music covering their moans.

They didn't stop until she was bursting with their cum, pushing it right back inside where a drop ran down her legs. Until there wasn't a single trace of skin unmarked. Until she couldn't fucking walk without their help.

And when few weeks later, she showed up in their apartment with three positive tests, they pretended to be shocked and made her move in with them.

They could already see the picture she would make. It was going to be perfect.

(i had this shit collecting dust in my drafts for a millenia and today i had a strange burst of inspiration to finish it. sorry for the waiting to those who asked for this part)

Taglist: @hanjisunglover @queenmea604 @linlinaert @bluducky @jinnie-ret @aalexyuuuhm @noellllslut @skzms @thightswideforhanin @aliensfoundthisblogl @k-krissten @stayconnecteed @hanjibug @roseykat

#skz scenarios #skz imagine #han jisung scenarios #lee know scenarios #minsung x reader #han jisung imagine #lee know imagine #minsung imagine #minsung scenario

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lurkingshan · 7 months ago

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Every time I see a Wedding Impossible GIFs on my dash I keep thinking that when it's over I'd love to read your take on what went wrong with this show. In a form of a very spiteful rant preferably.

(the show probably doesn't deserve too much of your time but I am just very VERY curious and had to share)

WELL! I was considering just letting this show go quietly into the night, but I will take this excuse to do a good rant instead.

*cracks knuckles*

You asked what went wrong with this show, but truly, nothing went right with it. From top to bottom, it's an utter waste of a good premise and a total destruction of the rare opportunity to get some positive queer rep into a het kdrama for a broader audience than will ever be reached by a ql. Let me list the most glaring problems:

They made Do Han a supporting character in his own narrative. Do Han, his sexuality, his desire and need to hide who he is to protect himself, and his desperate plan to avoid a life he doesn't want is the core of the story. Despite that, the story treats him like a minor supporting character with limited screen time and virtually no interiority or character development that made any sense.

The relationships were poorly written and the bonds were not believable. Ah Jeong was meant to be Do Han's ride or die bestie, but nothing in their scenes together or her behavior towards him suggested this was actually true. They seemed more like acquaintances who were friendly enough but had no real loyalty to each other, or even like she was a random actress he hired to play his wife. And Ji Han and Do Han had no brotherly bond or affection to speak of; their relationship consisted entirely of Ji Han throwing tantrums and demanding things for no reason other than he wants them, and Do Han trying to avoid being forced into them.

The leads were terrible people and the show did not realize that. Do Han's brother and best friend entered into a romance while she was engaged to Do Han. Ji Han thought it was a real relationship and did not seem to feel any guilt about pursuing his brother's lover. Ah Jeong was under a contract she agreed to as both his best friend and as a job to protect him and did not seem to care that she was breaking her commitment and threatening his safety. They gallivanted around flaunting their relationship in public with no regard for Do Han or his reputation whatsoever. And the show tried to convince me that Do Han was the selfish one in this scenario for the great sin of being gay and not just fucking off and getting out of the way of their relationship. Ji Han and Ah Jeong were never held accountable for what they did to him; instead we got to watch many scenes of Do Han being shamed and berated. Anyone who contributed to the writing and depiction of this can get fucked.

Every element of the story was poorly written and the resolutions were either unearned or so badly set up that they fell flat anyway. Do Han was being harassed and stalked and the story only barely cared about this. The family drama was boring and the grandpa character was a mess of contradictions who changed on a dime depending on the demands of the plot. There was no chemistry to speak of between the leads. The romance was utterly unbelievable and developed so poorly that it was impossible to care about whether these two assholes got together. The show used romcom tropes randomly to fill time even if they didn't fit. The final episode was stuffed with cameos by actors with personal connections to the cast and crew in the hopes it would distract us from what an unsatisfying conclusion it was, and the whole thing ended on a bizarre wedding gag that didn't work at all. The only good part was Do Han coming out on his own terms and leaving to go live his own life in New York, but the way they framed that was so gross I couldn't even enjoy it.

Most importantly, the messages of this show were deeply, unforgivably homophobic. This story went out of its way to tell us over and over again that Do Han is a selfish coward for being closeted, that his sexuality is a burden for his loved ones, that his family and friends are the real victims for having to deal with him, and that he was the one in the wrong for trying to protect himself. At no point was he allowed to get truly angry at the way his family and friends were treating him; he remained benevolent and shouldered the guilt and blame for everything, despite doing absolutely nothing except try to live an authentic life. At every turn the show depicted his siblings and grandfather and friend being hateful and/or careless with him, but then told us it was Do Han's fault for being who he is. They wanted us to blame the gay character and sympathize with a brother who resented him for not being the straight business leader he wanted him to be, and a friend who betrayed him without a second thought. The show argued passionately that the lies Do Han told to protect himself were the real problem, not the homophobia and hatred and rejection he faced every day of his life. It was an abysmal and offensive message and exactly the opposite of what a responsible piece of media would be trying to communicate.

I don't know if the people who made this show are actively malicious or just deeply incompetent, but they had no business telling a story involving a queer character if they were going to do it like this.

#if it's not already super clear #i do NOT recommend watching this #wedding impossible #kdrama #shan answers

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 1 year ago

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Spiderman Society and Manipulation Part 1

Okay! I had been wanting to do this post for a while, while I don't think we can flat out call the Spiderman Society a cult, the reality is that the more you look at it, the more twisted and crazy the spider society becomes.

I had seen a lot of people complain about the spiders in the society (specially on Gwen,) of how they could let this happen and how could actually believe is a good idea to let people die. And I don't think a lot of these people realize that the organization is operating in a way that is made to manipulate people, and things are far more complicated that what you may realize.

I would estate now that a lot of the things that fall under Cult behaviours are kind of inevitable by the nature of the organization.

I also want to emphasize that I DON'T THINK MIGUEL IS EVIL, or is even aware of the damage he is doing by the way he is running this operation. I truly believe there is no one who believes more in this than him, and all he does is for the common good.

And he is so focused on that goal he doesn't realize the damage he is doing.

WARNING: The following discussion will involve talking about Cults, psychological manipulation, controlling behaviours and such. If you think these topics may be a trigger for you, please consider skipping this.

Levels of Information

It hasn't been flat out say, but you can see in the movie that there are levels to the amount of information each Spider has on the organization.

Pavitr is aware that the Spider's society duty is to stop villains and beings from other dimensions from breaking havoc; these people ended up there by accident and need to be contained and sent to their respective universes.

However, he also says "I can do both," meaning that he has to be unaware about living in a canon event, and most probably, the existence of canon events.

Hobie also, seems to be in a somewhat of an intermediate level.

Here, Hobie says how he actually doesn't have much of an idea of what's going on with the organization.

However, he does appear to know more than Pav and Miles.

Here Hobie confirms that he knows that Miles is an anomaly. At least that's the impression he gave me considering the circumstances.

Now, we need to balance a few possibilities here.

Hobie being aware of anomalies but not canon events isn't exactly the weirdest concept; anomalies are entities from another universes coming in, which is of course, not suppose to be normal occurrence in any universe. Miles being bitten by a spider from another dimension would make him an anomaly just for that alone.

Hobie didn't seem particularly surprised when the canon events conversation came up, but I can buy that 1) He knows how to hide his emotions well, which would make sense if his universe is anything similar to what it is in his comics, 2) He may had suspected something like this was going on with the information he has at hand.

This also makes sense with his character, because I am sorry but I really cannot believe Hobie knew Pav was going to go through something traumatic, and would just let Pavitr suffer. ESPECIALLY for something Miguel says.

There is the possibility that he knows about anomalies from Gwen and not the organization itself, this would track considering he has admitted that the only reason he has been hanging around is because he wants to look after Gwen; and probably Pavitr too. He seems to be the type of person who looks after more vulnerable, young people. Which is pretty punk of him.

I could also believe Gwen at least telling Hobie about anomalies, because they are close friends (FRIENDS, look I like this ghostpunk and other ships because I am like that, but in the movie is obvious Hobie just seems Gwen as a friend. Again, don't bother shippers.) And because Gwen would obviously be upset about not being able to visit Miles, and venting to Hobie (who for sure would not rat her to Miguel, and would understand her situation.) As well as explaining the reasoning of the situation.

Why would she explain that? Well, because she needs to justify this still making sense, being the good guys.

Remember, Gwen ended here not just because she wanted to be with other spiders, but because she thought her home wasn't safe anymore. She needs to justify this being worth it because she is a traumatized teen with not a lot of support and is trying to cope with it until the reality exploits her in the face.

But probably that's a conversation that is better for another day.

I don't think people are realize how absolutely TRUE this rings for Cults.

Independently if this is a religious or other type of cult (because yes, not all of them are religious;) something that tends to happen is that there are levels to what people know; and the longer and more loyal you are to a cult, the more they let you in.

In fact, the loyalty thing is sometimes more important than time; if they see you are committed enough to one level, they may let you in the next bit of information.

This is because most cults start trying to say pretty reasonably things, a lot of them involved the common good and the possibility of a better life; and then the more they convince you to some ideas, the more they let you in the crazy stuff that is actually underneath. And this is on purpose, because a lot of people wouldn't had stayed too long if they knew the bat shit crazy information from the get go.

So they intentionally manipulated you into thinking their side of things first, and then they try to become your new support network and community.

You wouldn't believe an stranger, but your new family, or I don't know, new organization, who welcomes you in when you have nowhere to go, and offer to guide you in a way you desperately wanted help but never had the chance- Why you wouldn't believe them?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is how you get cults like Scientology, where at first people only had a vague idea of what was going on, until some people got in deep enough to extract some information and reveal to the world how nuts a lot of this sounds.

Preying on those facing difficult times

I will probably had someone mad at me because this title and choosing this particular screenshoot can feel a bit like a reach, but hear me out.

Yes, I understand that neither Miguel nor Jess had bad intentions when they ask her to join, in fact Jess seemed fully worried about Gwen because she had no one.

But again, Jess and Miguel aren't in this to manipulate people for their evil schemes, they fully believe all of the philosophies they are preaching.

While Gwen's case is the most extreme (that we are aware of at least,) this really rings my alarm bells WAY too much if you ask me.

Because of things like this:

Say what you want about the commitment Miguel has with his mission, I am not saying saving the multiverse isn't important (though it would help if Miguel had bothered to double check his theory,) but if you talk to someone who has lived in an abusive household, ask exactly what it did for their mental health being afraid of fucking up because they may get you kick out.

(It's figurative speech, if you have the chance learn about it but don't ask anyone who isn't comfortable talking about the subject.)

Let me tell you something; living afraid of what would happen to you just for existing is not a walk in the park, and while I don't think Gwen is truly walking on eggshells with Miguel; it cannot be easy knowing in the back of your mind that if you mess up badly enough, you will end up in a place where you may risk ending in prison, being homeless, or that your mere presence may make someone you love die.

(After all, technically; ASM-90 can't happen if Spider-Gwen isn't there to fight anyone, right? Yeah I wonder what exactly Miguel would had done about that.)

You saw the amount of spider-people this society has, you also know how spider-man stories work; no freaking way Gwen is the only one in this situation. Maybe Gwen is the one who's situation is most at stake considering Miguel was already wary of her for her relationship with Miles; however I can't imagine that if let's say, a spider doesn't want to go along with a canon event, they wouldn't let them stay.

"But OP! Miguel is just trying to be practical, you can't pretend he let people stay if they are putting in risk the mission."

Yeah here is what I have to say to that: Is absolutely horrible to let this scenario exist in the first place.

There is plenty of resources here; the Spider Society HQ has a weird architecture that couldn't had been cheap, all because is made for spider-people in mind. The place is HUGE, he is on the surface world (because unless I see evidence of otherwise, I bet my laptop that the underworld city is where crime and people without too many resources need to go, for not being able to afford the surface.) Not to mention all the technology they have should open to more possibilities, right? If not health wise (Miguel's world is probably more medically advanced that the ones of many other spiders, for example.)

There is no way, resources couldn't be use to help other spiders. I say it before, I find ludicrous that Jess, Miguel or someone else couldn't talk some sense into Captain Stacy. Or that someone could be supporting Gwen better in an emotional sense, because that poor teen needs some type of parental figure in her life and none of them have interest in it. Which again, is fine, but if you know there is this issue, as an adult who decided to take this teen, you should find someone willing to do it!

I do not give a shit that they are super heroes, is plain as day that Gwen has issues, and is looking for someone older and wiser to be there for her; I am not saying Jess should had done it because I can't blame her for not wanting that role, but if you can't do it and for some reason can't talk some sense into his dad, find someone!

Yes, there is a psych spider-man, but that is clearly not doing enough. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if the guy wasn't even good (like I get that he is a spidey and that he hears these stuff constantly, but imagine telling something that is traumatic to you, and your psych can't give less of a shit or even be sensible about the subject.)

They have these people in a choke hold, either obey, or you would get kicked out to horrible conditions.

I had been reading a few comics; Gwen's world SUCKS, if her world is half as bad as it is in the comics, I wouldn't want her going back, period. Peni also has some horrible circumstances; (her situation is better in the after school saga, but still.) I can't imagine how many others are in this exact boat.

Because is not just that this place is providing a safe heaven for Spiders, is also a community.

Spider-people tend to be lonely, a lot of them are in worlds where they are the only super hero, keeping this a secret for the safety of their love ones.

So you are telling these people who are normally abused in some way or another, who suffer from the loneliness of this job; that unless they behave and obey, they will lose the only community where they can be themselves, where they can ask for help, or have a place to rest.

And I can already see people typing angrily about the multiverse and it's well being, and let me put it this way: In the real world, if an organization (not just a company, but charities and such,) ends up having a work space that puts an unnecessary level of stress and fear for the people in it; wouldn't you be mad about it?

So why exactly I shouldn't want Miguel, someone that should be a good guy, care for the people that he has under his command? Wouldn't make sense that the people that need to take care of the multiverse are doing mentally well, considering that putting that type of strain in someone can also affect how they do their job effectively?

"But Miguel is not thinking about those things, he is focused to the cause! He just has his priorities, and wants his subordinates to understand how important is this too."

Hmm. So what I am hearing is that Miguel wants everyone to be ready to let whoever is necessary die, if not kill (because you cannot tell me Miguel "I don't always like what I have to do." O' Hara hasn't done it.) And leave everything behind for the cause, no feelings involved; and wants teens and young people who had no business being this pressured to do it as well.

Yeah this is not the argument you think it is. There is enough money, resources and people that there is no way this couldn't be run better, but is not.

But I feel I had gone long enough without bringing other sources into the table; so let's start with that shall we?

Understanding Cults: The Basics - Psychology Today

Isn't an interesting coincidence how this fits EXACTLY what happened to Gwen, to a T?

Is approached to, not even shown interested in joining on her own. Look at that screenshot from earlier, Gwen says "I don't know how to fix this," she wants to fix THIS, the things with her dad, to make her situation less messy.

She doesn't know what she is getting into, she doesn't even know that she will not be able to visit Miles yet. Much less canon and all that jazz.

Think about it for a second, Miguel sees a teen who has her own dad try to SHOOT HER, and what he sees is "well, another recruit." Tell me that it isn't a bit fucked up.

You could try to argue that Miguel offered his place so she could have a shelter, except that no, that's not what happens.

This happens after her dad already tried to shoot her, he may had stopped it, but he wasn't interested in recruiting her, not even after Jess is trying to convince him to let her in.

You know what happens? She says "I don't know how to fix this."

That's the catalyst.

I thought of finding a way to explain how, but honestly someone did a MUCH better job than me already.

Miguel's DESTRUCTIVE Idea of "SPIDER-MAN"

If anyone is bothered by me not leaving the explanation behind Miguel's reasoning, is because this conversation isn't about Miguel's mental health and reasoning. Because that's not excuse for this mess regardless.

The point is: Miguel wants people to help him fix this mess, and even if the logical conclusion here would be helping her out with her situation rather than just include her into this mess; Miguel isn't thinking about that.

I will not say is malicious in any way, heck he may think he is doing her a favour like this, but that's another problem, not an excuse. He is so focused on his goal that he leaves behind the well-being of his subordinates.

Which is a problem, by any measure you want to give it.

Let's go back to the sources shall we?

With this at hand, let's review

Do they enlist people without giving the entire story of what's is going on and deceptive ideas? Yes.

Because they enlist people saying they need them to help save more people and the universe, WITHOUT mentioning that some of YOUR love ones need to die.

I feel on this angle, I had already mentioned enough in the rest of the post.

It is authoritarian, with a leader that is controlling? Well what if we see the evidence?

Look how many angles he has here, is not even all of them, there was another with Gwen in another shot. I am not sure what type of camera or device he is using for this, but wouldn't you find it disturbing if your boss had THIS amount of footage of you while walking on your company?

It gets worse.

He is spying them in their downtime.

You could make the argument he had the right to watch over Gwen because she was technically on duty at that moment (it doesn't make it less creepy and honestly unless you are like a cop, I can't imagine too many jobs where is a good idea to have something record what you do at any moment.)

Except that you can see in the superior corner, that he has a video of Hobie playing; he doesn't have his mask so this is clearly not a mission. He is spying on people even OFF the clock.

Do any of you seriously think is a coincidence he did this with Gwen and Hobie, the "problematic" spideys?

Do you think Gwen and Hobie even know to the degree they are being watched?

(Sidenote, Miguel apparently has been looking over Hobie, yet seems unaware that he is making his own watches apparently, and maybe to which extend he steals. Hobie is so smart he fooled Miguel just like that. Another reason why Hobie is the best.)

You know something that bothers me about this? Is why is Gwen asking this?

Gwen is supposedly in the loop, she knows about canon, she knows about the ASM-90, but she is asking this, as if she hasn't been given that hard proof either.

Which goes back to the lack of transparency, but for this part of the discussion, the important thing is what Miguel does next.

Doesn't answer her question, menacingly towers over her until she almost falls back, and then kicks her out.

Do you notice the interesting part about this? He wasn't planning to sent her home, until she QUESTIONED his logic.

It wasn't about she going to see Miles, it wasn't about messing up with the spot; if it was about that he would had decided to get rid of her earlier, even the second she spoke her mind would had justified it, making it remember she was there.

Yet is not until she asks that, that suddenly Miguel decides this is enough.

Wouldn't you call that authoritative?

Let's go to the next part, the disrupt of personality; because maybe you think that's definitely not the case. Well...

You may read this and not think too much about it, but again, when you had been looking into cults and similar stuff before, this starts siren bells in your head as if he was talking about a doomsday.

Miguel is emphasizing how being Spider-man involves sacrifice, it involves pain and losing love ones. And you need to be okay with that.

You can see with Miguel that he prioritizes the job above everything else, he says that much himself really. And he expects everyone else to prioritize it too.

Sure, Peter is a loving father with clearly time for his daughter, Jess is pregnant; but you cannot tell me that if a canon event involved Peter losing his daughter, or Jess losing her kid; Miguel would say something different.

He expects people to follow canon events no matter how painful it is, and his justification for it is that it is part of the job that you signed for, so you need to be okay with this.

Because being a spider-person and the job should be above all else, don't you think that involves forcing an identity onto you so you obey better? Because you are first spider-woman over being Gwen Stacy, for example?

Tell me how much of this applies to the Spider Society, because for what I had gathered? None of this is allowed.

People aren't allowed to interact with who they want (like Gwen being obviously forbidden of seeing Miles,) if you question the leadership you may be kicked out; not complete information until you had proven trustworthy or there is no other choice.

And something interesting about all of this, is that is technically not just preying on the people with difficult circumstances like Gwen, though that is bad enough. But funnily enough...this all also uses the trauma and guilt of its eldest members to justify their actions.

BUT, I think that would go better with a part 2! I feel the topic while part of this discussion, deserves it's own post, specially since I will talk a bit about why I think Miguel believes so far in this theory, even if the evidence shows is flawed.

Look, I really, REALLY, don't want to call the Spider Society a cult; I don't even think the writers had that in mind when they did this; they just wanted to show that Miguel was flawed.

And is for sure, not as bad as other things that I had seen, things that had happened in real life.

However, this isn't a good look, this organization checks way too many boxes, enough to effectively give psychological damage; I can assure if this wasn't a super hero movie Gwen and other people will have to go through therapy for this. Heck even if this trilogy has a happy ending I wouldn't be surprised if the people need some psychological help once they realize they did horrible shit for nothing.

I feel there is another things, minor details that could qualify, but those feels almost nitpicky and inconsequential compared to the rest, and what some of what is left..

I don't think I need to give more reasons anyways; the Spider Society is harmful to their people, feel free to think otherwise but I cannot see an operation with this many red flags and not call it how I see it.

I don't know what's worse, this, or the fact that is not the worse thing I think Miguel has done.

But that's everything for now! Hope you guys like it, and if you have the chance, please donate on my ko-fi or share this post!

#atsv files #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o' hara #spider society #gwen stacy #jessica drew #hobie brown #miles morales

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phdmama · 26 days ago

Text

A small piece of writing...

(Possibly to be archived later, but it feels appropriate to share here.)

I wrote this years ago. This is the epilogue to a longer Larry fic that I started but have never finished. It's a plot-heavy fic, soul bonds, psychic Harry and medium Louis, reincarnation, past lives, etc. I am not sure I'll ever finish it, but this epilogue capture something about life and death that I really, truly believe. I just revisited it and I want to share it with my fellow fans. This fandom brought me writing, and well. Here's one more little Larry thing from me.

I don't think you really need to know anything more about the story for this to make sense? I hope not. This is technically major character death because it's life after death but it's about the life part. Really it's about the eternal nature of love.

This is for all of us, but especially for Liam.

Louis slowly swims to wakefulness and opens his eyes, confused as to where he is. Fluorescent lights that are currently off, the grey of pre-dawn through the window, white sheets, white ceiling, white walls. Hospital then, not his little condo at the assisted living facility. The light in the room has an odd cast to it, and the sounds around him are muffled, as if he’s underwater. He yawns and stretches, noting that for the first time in years, well, decades maybe, his shoulder doesn’t do that painful popping thing. In fact. He sits up, wiggling around. He feels better than no pain, he feels great.

Louis carefully slides out of the bed and stands, and it’s not until he’s almost to the door that he registers the crowd around his bed, that he must have just walked through, but he... didn’t even see them. Weird. There’s Charlie and Mika, there’s Alice and James and Sophie. The grandkids are all there too, JJ with his arm tucked around each of the twins, Rose and Maddie. Michael, his hair is deep and lovely blue this month, Louis notes with a grin, and Nessa, the youngest, with her shining blond curls and vibrant green eyes that she’d inherited from her Granddaddy.

The mood in the room is somber, Louis can tell. Stoic Charlie’s mouth is drawn, while Alice cries softly as James rubs her back and Sophie clutches her hand. The normal “joyful noise,” as Louis has called it for 50 years, is absent. Louis knows this is odd, knows he should be concerned, but he can’t quite connect to that feeling. There's only to the urgent sense that he’s got somewhere else, somewhere important to be.

Then he sees it happen, the doctor in the corner reaches over and flips off the heart monitor that has, Louis notes absently, flat-lined. There’s a shuffle of movement, and the group around the bed parts for a moment, and oh. Oh, there it is, his old body, looking smaller and frailer on the bed than Louis remembers feeling. He looks down at the body he’s in; it feels strong and sure, familiar and solid.

He looks at his family, and notes something odd. In some of their faces, he sees something almost flickering and shifting. In Charlie, Louis catches a glimpse that reminds him of the pictures of Harry’s dad. In Michael, he sees something of Stan, his childhood friend, lost far too soon. Oddly enough, in the doctor standing somberly in the corner, he sees the shadow of his grandfather who’d died when he was a baby. And Nessa. His breath catches in his throat, because Nessa has turned, and is looking directly at him where he’s standing, paused, with his hand on the door handle, and she’s watching him with his mother’s eyes. How had he never seen that? Nessa is staring straight at him, and then when she sees him looking back, her whole face lights up in her trademark Nessie smile.

“I love you, Grandpapa.” She says the words loud and clear, and the others turn to look, first at her and then at where she’s staring. “It’s okay, Papa, you can go. We love you, we’ll always love you. I’ll miss you, Papa, but it’s time to go.” She makes a little shooing motion with her hands and then blows him a kiss, which Louis pretends to catch and presses to his heart. Her smile wavers as the tears start and then she whispers, “Tell Grandaddy I love him, okay?”

Louis can’t answer her, knows somehow that there’s no way he can speak to her from where he is now, but knows too, that the words don’t matter when he can see the love shimmering in the air, filling the room. The light around them gets brighter as he looks at his family and smiles, and blows Nessa a kiss back, their tradition since she was a tiny child.

The twins have moved to flank her now, and they’re smiling through their tears as well, and then the entire family starts doing that ridiculous two-handed wave that they’ve always done when they’ve sent one of their own off into the world.

Louis waves one last time, and then turns away. It’s time to go.

He opens the door to the hospital room and steps out — onto the back porch of the old house on the Lake, where Charlie and Mika live now. He sees Alex, one of their majestic, siamese cats curled up on the couch, and drags his fingers through her fur as he passes. She stirs, blinks sleepily up at him in acknowledgement, and then stretches languidly.

He passes through the screen door and walks quickly down the steps, the sense that he’s headed in the right direction solidifying within him, and then when he looks down to the lake and sees who's standing there, he starts to run, marveling at the strength in this body, the way his muscles contract and release as he races towards the water. No pain, no aches, just fluid motion.

Harry turns, and Louis feels his heart overflow at the vision standing before him. Harry looks to be about 30, his body tall and broad, his face unlined, and when he sees Louis, his eyes light up as he opens his arms, and Louis crashes into him with the force of a tidal wave, wrapping himself around the love of his life, gone these last nine years.

Not gone, though, Louis understands now. When Harry had died, mercifully quick after the diagnosis, Louis had wondered if he’d linger, but he hadn’t seen him, only the occasional sign that Harry was popping in. But now, here they are, reunited.

Harry’s calloused fingers trail across Louis’s cheek and then his hand cups Louis’ face, and he leans down, and presses a fervent kiss to Louis’ mouth.

“You’re here,” he breathes, and tips his head down in that familiar way to rest his forehead against Louis’, “You’re finally here.”

“I’m here,” Louis agrees, hearing the joy in his own voice and he kisses Harry again, because he can. “Err,” he says after another long moment, “Where is here, exactly?”

“Oh,” Harry looks around him and grins, “This is a way station, it’s one of the places where the... barrier, I guess you’d call it, is thinner, so lots of people come here to....” His voice trails off for a moment as he chooses his words. “Where people come to decide.”

“Decide what?” Louis asks, a bit confused.

“Decide if they’re ready to move on,” Harry says, as if this is obvious and all of a sudden, it is. Louis remembers back to one of those first conversations with Harry, a lifetime ago now, and how Harry had explained to him his understanding of the purpose of life on earth. It’s a spiritual boot camp of sorts, Harry had said, We’re here to learn to live in love, to learn to let go of fear.

“Is there, I don’t know, like, a judge or something?” Louis asks, looking around. The water of the lake is clear, and even though he knows it’s February, there’s no snow on the ground, just the lush green of late Spring, and he’s not in the slightest bit cold, even though he’s wearing the skinny jeans that he’d loved when he was young, that haven’t been in fashion for years, decades maybe, and a t-shirt.

Harry laughs and shakes his head, “No, it’s not needed, because no one chooses to move on unless they’re ready. God, Louis, I have so much to tell you, so much to show you.”

“Wait,” Louis says, “Have you been here,” he gestures around them at the familiar yard, the orchard off in the distance in full blossom, “the whole time?”

Harry laughs and Louis almost starts to cry because it’s been so long, too long since he’s heard his love’s voice. “No, baby, I didn’t stay. I wanted to, but it was time for me to move on, so I did, but I’m back to guide you, to go with you. We’re soulmates, Louis, we’re destined to be together, not only in this life that you’ve just left, but every other life as well. We’ve always been together, baby.”

He grins, the wind ruffling his curls under the ridiculous hat he’s wearing and Louis takes a deep breath, the habits of living die hard, he thinks to himself with a laugh.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, “Before I forget, as I was leaving, Nessa told me to tell you she loves you. She’s missed you a lot.”

Harry’s face softens and his eyes shimmer. “She saw you, didn’t she? When you left that body, the gift transferred to her, just like it came to you when your Great Uncle Charlie died.”

Louis nods and says, his voice husky, “She told me it was okay to go, and then goddamn but if the entire family didn’t do that stupid wave.”

Harry barks out a laugh, tears still shining. “Of course they did. We did good, baby. No doubt about that.”

“So,” Louis looks around again, noticing now that there are others around them, some ignoring them completely, but a few are paying attention, standing a respectful distance to give them some privacy in their reunion. He looks more closely and then sees, standing a bit further away, a group of three men together, talking and laughing as they wait.

“Oh god,” he whispers to Harry even as he grabs his hand to tug him down the beach towards them, “Is that them?”

The men turn and then Niall calls out, “Louis” and they come together in a tight embrace. “Couldn’t let this one come by himself to fetch you.”

The other two men are as familiar to Louis as his own family, even though he’s only known them in dreams, and hasn’t seen them in 70 years. Niall releases him and he turns to them, and as one, they reach for him, draw him in, and Louis can feel the warmth in their hug.

“Zayn, Liam,” he says breathlessly, “You’re here. What are you doing here?”

Liam smiles and finally, Louis hears his voice for the first time. “We’re soul bonded, Louis, the five of us are soul bonded to each other. Now that you’re here and ready, we’re all moving on together. We’ll talk more about it on the way.”

Louis nods, and realizes that he’s feeling once more that sense of urgency, as well as the certainty that he’s learned here what he needs to know. It’s not an anxiety that he’s late or is going to miss it, whatever it is, he thinks, but more that it’s that deep anticipation, like being a kid early on Christmas morning, or waiting for the bell to ring on the last day of school before summer vacation. That thrill, that certainty, that there’s something amazing just around the corner, something that he’s spent his whole life catching a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye, and now he’s almost there, and he just can’t wait.

He squeezes Liam and Zayn one more time before letting them go, grins at Niall and then turns to Harry, holding out his hand.

Harry grabs it, and they give each other a quick squeeze in that old sign to each other, I’m here, I’m with you, I’m not leaving without you.

“Okay,” he says a bit breathlessly, “What now?”

Harry points to the pier and Louis sees now that there’s a small sailboat waiting at the end of it.

“If you’re ready,” Harry says, “We can go.”

The five men make their way down the weathered pier, and climb on board. Harry leads Louis to the front of the boat, while Niall calls out orders to Zayn and Liam, who move with practiced ease around the craft, loosening the lines and getting ready to depart. Niall starts the small motor, as Harry and Louis settle themselves on the cushioned bench.

The boat starts slowly, pulling away from the dock, and Louis looks back one last time, watches the house recede on the shore as they move further out onto the lake. The engine cuts out as Liam raises the sail, and the boat begins to pick up speed. Harry wraps an arm around Louis and pulls him even closer, dropping a kiss onto his head, and they turn as one, away from the past, facing forward as the boat soars across the water.

If you had been on the beach that day, you wouldn’t have seen any of this. You wouldn’t have seen the boat moving away from the shore, sails billowing as she took flight. You wouldn’t have heard the sounds of laughter and conversation as old friends reunited, the joy in each other's company readily apparent. You wouldn’t have seen the flash of light as the boat disappeared off the edge of the horizon, and you wouldn’t have heard Harry speak, the love in his voice palpable.

“I’ve missed you, Lou. Welcome home.”

#my writing #when your own writing makes you cry #I hope it was like this for Liam #I hope it will be like this for me #death and life after #the continuity of the soul #a small piece of a Larry fic

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countrymusiclover · 8 months ago

Text

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen. So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second. Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father. Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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tossawary · 1 month ago

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(SPOILERS for "Transformers: One!) I'm about to go see the movie again, so I may come back with better details later, but I saw a negative take that I thought was... understandable but also ungenerous towards the film... and I want to get some thoughts out about it now.

Sentinel is an unreliable narrator!!! It would be kind of flat story-wise if Sentinel had honestly betrayed the Primes just because he was "bored of all their talking" and just wanted all of their power for himself. Selfishness and ego aren't spectacularly interesting motivations, sure. I enjoyed him personally, but I also really don't think that anyone is obligated to find Sentinel interesting or fun as a villain; if you didn't enjoy him, that's fair.

But Sentinel is a showman!!! These are the claims that Sentinel makes to his ENEMIES, including Zeta Prime and Alpha Trion and the High Guard. Of course he's going to try and save face in front of them? And in front of his own subordinates? He's acting like he's disaffected by all of his enemies, like the return of a Prime doesn't scare him at all, like the loss of the Matrix doesn't matter to him, like the threat of the Quintessons is nothing to him... Like these people can't hurt him, no matter what they say or do, because he doesn't care about them.

And maybe Sentinel is that careless! Maybe he genuinely believes his own lies at this point! It's been a long time, his ego is swollen, the power has gone to his head, maybe he's convinced himself that the Primes just bored him, or maybe he's truly always been an apathetic twit. But either way, why in the world would Sentinel admit to vulnerabilities in any of his villain speeches to his enemies?

During Sentinel's encounter with the Quintessons, you can see that he's TERRIFIED of them. (For good reason! They're scary here!) Maybe he betrayed the Primes partially out of fear for his own survival; because he thought that brokering a deal of submission was the only way out of the war for himself. But this golden Prime, sole ruler of Cybertron, after years upon years of smiling tyranny, is probably not going to admit to his old foe, his living mistake, Alpha Trion, that he was and still is scared out of his damn mind.

(EDIT: One of the things that Sentinel says to Alpha Trion is that he had to spend half of his time watching the Primes "lose a war" and the other half of his time listening to them go on about "honor". I think the first part of that sentence demands some attention. Sentinel potentially genuinely thought that the Primes were going to lose the war! Or he's just insulting Alpha Trion because he's an asshole and he can, but it's possible that part of his motivation is that he lost hope and saw surrender as the only avenue of escape.)

Sentinel stole Megatronus's transformation cog! He set himself up as a false Prime! There's a lot to be inferred there about envy and jealousy and a desire for glory and worship. We don't know the exact societal setup under the original Primes, but it was also wartime, so maybe Sentinel's life as a not-Prime during a grueling war sucked somehow and his resentment eventually boiled over. Maybe his life was actually pretty good and he just snapped because he wanted everything. But either way, this smug villain high on his victory, boasting to his prisoners, is not going to suddenly admit to seething feelings of inferiority and/or confess the details of his wartime suffering to STARSCREAM.

It's possible that Sentinel genuinely thought that he was meant to be a Prime! Maybe he thought that the Matrix needed someone new to wield it to be effective! Maybe Sentinel used to be religious and thought that the war was going badly because the wrong person had the Matrix and thus Primus was unhappy with them all. But then the Matrix straight-up dissolved in his hands and his dreams and faith all came crashing down! (I'm aware that there's no proof of this! My point is...) But someone as proud as Sentinel is not going to talk about the excruciating dismay of not being considered worthy to the likes of D-16! Sentinel is too busy being cruel!

Like, I do understand personally not enjoying Sentinel as a villain! That's fine! I liked him, but I will easily agree that there are tweaks that could have been made to give him greater depth, to show greater depth, as could have been done with all of the characters here. I would argue that his relative simplicity allowed for more room for the arcs of Optimus Prime and Megatron, but he could have definitely been more interesting. For sure! They could have given him some different scenes where he might actually voice more vulnerabilities.

But it bugged me from a general characterization standpoint that this lying liar who lies might be taken entirely at face value regarding his motivations. Especially when talking to his enemies. Like, come on.

#tossawary transformers #tf one #sentinel prime #spoilers #long post

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julemmaes · 1 year ago

Text

Stuck

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre modern au

A/N: idk wtf this is, I got an idea and then it spiralled into something completely different and considered how I ended I might write a second part where they fuck it out of their system, just for the sake of it

Enjoy!:)

Word count: ~2300

"No. Nonono, fuck no. Not today, please!" She cried, running her fingers through her hair and pulling at the roots until it hurt.

Elide groaned, shutting her eyes closed.

She tried to draw a deeper breath in and when the tight skin dress didn't stretch enough for her to do so, Elide felt anxiety crest.

"Fuck me," she whined, running to her living room, where the biggest mirror in her flat leaned against the wall. Maybe the problem was that she couldn't see properly and something was obstructing the way.

Turning with her back to the glass, she started slapping at her back, trying to reach for the zipper. Once her fingers closer around the tiny chip of metal, Elide yanked the thing down.

Nothing.

She closed her eyes in despair, breathing through her nose. When air got stuck in her throat again she blew it from her mouth.

Her eyes started stinging.

"Please, not today."

She had had the longest day at work and she needed to get out of this dress, so she could decompress after the tiring shift. But no, she couldn't. Of course not. The universe hated her and she was cursed.

And she was stuck.

She tried again, slower, gentler. The zipper didn't even shift.

Elide never really considered herself claustrophobic, she easily got into elevators and toilet stalls without windows. She never felt any kind of panic whenever she was in tiny, crowded spaces and such.

But she was starting to doubt how much she truly knew herself at this point.

She clutched her neck with a hand, forcing herself to take small, slow breaths, trying to calm down and think of a solution.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was out of her apartment and striding down to the only other one she was sure wasn't vacant.

She couldn't waste any time checking which neighbor was home or not and the music coming from apartment E24 was proof enough someone was in there.

She reached the door in the blink of an eye and started slamming her palm against the flat wood surface, so hard that her skin tingled with pain.

"Fuck!" A clearly masculine voice came from inside, “The Police!”

“Shut up, Fenrys, it’s not the Police,” another male voice came through. Whoever it was, they were immensely calmer than the former speaker.

“Fuck you, Ro, you can’t know!”

Elide called out, “I’m not the Police, please open the door!”

“You open it, Dorian."

“Are you for real?” Another person.

"You're closer to it—"

"It's your house."

"—and I'm scared."

"Hellas above, I'll get the door."

Elide didn't have time to step back that the door unlocked and a second later a guy larger than life stood in front of her.

She sagged, leaning forward. She couldn't help the relieved whisper that escaped her. "Thank gods."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she was already turning her back to him.

"I'm fucking stuck and if you don't help me right now I might collapse."

Dramatic much, she could hear her best friend's words in her head.

"I've been trying to get out of this hellish trap for twenty minutes and I–" she paused, panting as if she'd just ran a marathon, "–I can't really breathe."

When her plea was met with silence she turned her head enough to look over her shoulder and she only then realized how tall the man standing there was.

He towered over her, by two heads.

He was staring at her with parted lips and a furrowed brow.

"I'm sorry what?" His voice was rough, scratchy in a way that made Elide blush.

She whined, not above crying in front of strangers if it came to it, "The dress, it won't come off, I need you to zip it down. Please."

A loud, barking laugh came from inside the apartment and then a chorus of various voices started.

"I can't believe this is happening."

"No one will believe us when we tell this story."

"Lucky bastard."

"I can't believe it myself and I'm living through it."

Elide ignored the others and focused on the giant guy, looking him straight in the eyes, "Listen I just need you to pull it down, I can't do it myself and I live alone, please I…"

"Okay," he murmured. He stepped forward, lifting his hands toward her dress. He looked at her back before his eyes flitted to hers, "Can I?"

"Please," Elide repeated.

She tensed when his fingers brushed her skin, and held her breath when he brought the hems of the dress together and tried to pull the zipper down.

"It doesn't work," he stated.

"No shit, Sherlock," someone said from inside. "She literally told you that."

Elide brought her hands to her face and groaned for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

When he stepped back, she turned and eyed the others—there were seven guys, plus the titan standing next to her, in total. They seemed to be in the middle of some kind of videogame tournament. Snacks and joysticks lay everywhere and they were all wearing some kind of comfy clothes.

She had to hold back her smile when she realized she'd walked in on a slumber party.

"Do any of you know how to fix zippers or am I destined to die in this?"

"I heard using soap works, come inside."

Elide's attention shifted back to the guy next to her. She had to bend her head back to look him in the face.

He was wearing black pants and a black sweater, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. He was eyeing her curiously, as if he was studying her. Elide couldn't say she minded the attention.

He was pretty good on the eye, too.

Another one of the guys shot up, "Sure, let the stranger in, it's not like this is my house."

"You're right, I'm so sorry," Elide looked back at the room. She stepped inside nonetheless, "I'm Elide. Lochan. I live in E27? I think we crossed paths a couple of times?"

"Oh, maybe." The owner of the house came up to her, extending a hand and flashing her a shit-eating grin, "Fenrys, Moonbeam."

"Nice to meet you, where do you keep the soap?"

He seemed taken aback for a second and slowly lowered his hand. A few surprised snorts sounded in the room. He pointed a finger down the corridor, "Bathroom."

Someone brushed past her, murmuring a curt come as they passed.

She didn't have to be told twice and followed the Wardrobe-wide Guy into the flat.

He moved around the bathroom like he owned the place, and Elide would probably be embarrassed later when she realized she'd literally just barged into someone's house and demanded their help, but she needed to get out of this dress and couldn't really think of anything else at the moment.

"Turn around."

Elide did as told without a word.

She hissed as a few droplets of cold water slid down her back.

"Sorry," he grumbled. The soft sound of the soap bar grating against the zipper was the only audible thing. And she was growing aware of her surroundings.

"What's your name?"

"Lorcan."

"Cool," she cleared her throat. "Cool, cool."

He huffed a breath. His version of a laugh, perhaps?

She felt the dress being pulled down, but nothing unzipping, then he clicked his tongue.

"It's not working, is it?"

"Nah," he said, putting the soap back and washing his hands. "I could try with some oil."

Elide let go of a shuddering breath, she just wanted out of it.

When she said nothing, Lorcan rounded her and stood in front of her, glancing down at her face. His chin jutted out, "You okay?"

She nodded swiftly, offering a tight smile.

Now that she knew someone else was taking care of the issue at hand, she was feeling calmer. And she could think more clearly.

The guy in front of her was stunning.

He had long, black hair that reached his waist. Eyes just as dark and a white, deep scar that ran from the side of his forehead down to his temple that appeared even paler in contrast with his dark skin. She wondered how he'd gotten it.

"Are you claustrophobic or some shit like that?"

That question brought her back to reality and made her aware of the fact that he'd been watching her just as closely.

She shook her head, "I'm just exhausted and I want to sleep. But I can't sleep in this."

His lips curled on one side and after a few seconds where they just studied each other, he jerked his head toward the living room before silently heading back.

She was on his heels in a heartbeat.

The moment they stepped into the full room, Elide dared looking at the crowd. She stopped in the hall when one of them talked.

"Lorbear, I see you're no good at undressing ladies in distress."

Lorbear. This group was close.

Elide snorted, rolling her eyes back and then fixing her stare on the blue-eyed prince charming that sat on the only armchair. "You think you could do better?"

A white-haired guy chuckled, addressing her directly. "Our Dorian here hasn't seen a single dress in his entire life, he wouldn't know where to start."

She smiled knowingly, enjoying the distraction as much as the friendly banter between the boys.

"Do I need to remind you how you met your girlfriend, Rowan?" Dorian grinned back, lifting a foot to poke at the other's leg.

Rowan—she supposed—tensed and clenched his jaw, slapping Dorian's foot away, "Please, don't."

Elide's interest was piqued, so much so that she wanted to ask questions, but Lorcan's voice called for her from the kitchen.

She waved at the others, "Wish me good luck."

A chorus of good luck rose from the couches.

"Sorry," she said as she sauntered in the small kitchen, "I got stopped."

Lorcan gestured at her to turn around, "Don't mind them, they're all jerks."

"I like them," she shrugged as she positioned in front of him. "Plus, you're the one hanging out with them, if you really thought that, I don't think you'd be here."

His fingers slipped under the fabric on her back and something coarse scratched at her skin.

"It's paper, so you don't get oily," he warned.

"Oh," she was surprised. By the small kind gesture, and by the reaction her body was having to the infinitely unimportant brush of his touch. "Thanks."

"No prob," he drawled, his voice traveling over the back of her neck.

Elide scrunched her nose. What was she doing?

"Would you mind leaning forward a bit for me, 'lide?"

'Lide.

She was going to die.

You're not, Manon's voice sounded amused in her head as she obeyed.

They went through the process again, just for the zipper to not even budge.

He cleaned the metal, wiping it until it was dry enough that it wouldn't dirty her.

She turned to face him again and he bent his head to the side, scratching his jaw.

"Can I cut it?"

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, "No, it's my work uniform, you can't cut it."

He stared at her for the longest time, then went, "Are you wearing a bra?"

What?

Someone laughed from the other room, "Smooth, Slavaterre. Really smooth."

Lorcan huffed, running a hand down his face, "I was wondering if we could take it off from the head. You know, like a shirt."

Elide suddenly felt stupid. She blushed lightly and muttered, "I didn't think of it."

"So?"

It was her turn to stare at him, in silence, contemplating her next move.

The way his gaze didn't falter for half a second gave her a kind of confidence she rarely possesses these days.

She shook her head, "Yes, I am."

"Do you think you can do it by yourself?"

She nodded.

Lorcan hummed, "I guess my part is done here, then."

"I guess," she replied, never stepping back from the staring contest.

When his eyes slid lower, slowly, to her mouth, she smirked. He mimicked her, and his tongue came out to wet his plump lip.

It wasn't her style, not really how she found hookups, but Lorcan was attractive and seemed to be really appreciative of whatever he was seeing in her.

"What if," she added, speaking so softly that only he could hear her, "I get stuck?"

Something glimmered in his eyes, and he took a step forward. The movement forced her head further back and when his hand lifted to play with the hem of her sleeve, her arms covered in goosebumps.

"I could help with that," he rasped, caressing her shoulder. He ran a finger down her collarbone and Elide took a sharp breath in.

Their eyes met again and she swallowed.

"Then I'll make sure to call you, if it comes to that."

Lorcan's lips curled again, tempting, "I would love that."

Fenrys' scream came sharp as a needle, bursting their bubble of tension and longing.

"Don't you dare make out in my kitchen!"

Elide averted her gaze, pushing her tongue against her cheek to avoid laughing. She really liked these people.

Lorcan stepped back until a good two meters distanced them and then inhaled, extending a hand toward the living room.

She walked out of the kitchen first, heading directly for the front door.

She spared a long look at Lorcan, letting him see the sincerity behind her next words, "You know where to find me, Salvaterre, if you ever need company."

She loved the taste of his name on her tongue.

He smirked, taking his stance next to the kitchen door. He nodded his head once, clearly letting her know he would take up on her words.

She didn't even look at the rest of the guys as she said goodbye and left, closing the door behind her.

She was halfway down the corridor when shouts and cheers exploded from Fenrys' flat.

Oh, just how fast things had changed.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed, just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @gwynethhberdara @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @tangledinmysoul @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @imagine-me @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream

#elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #tog fic #meet cute #ill try to write some smut as a second part i swear

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naamahdarling · 11 months ago

Note

Do you have a favorite musical?

If so, what are your favorite lyrics from it, and why?

ALW's CATS.

Is it a surreal mess? Yes! But I love it before everything else.

The lyrics are silly but very clever. Most are at least partly by TS Eliot, drawn from a wonderfully nonsensical book of poems.

I think my favorite song is the Invitation to the Jellicle Ball, neck and neck with Mr Mistoffelees.

My favorite cat is Mistoffelees by a lot, followed by the Rum Tum Tugger. They are in love.

But the part that makes me feel the most in my heart is Grizabella. The only cat I relate to is Grizabella.

Memory is the big number that everyone knows and I do absolutely love it, it's one of my favorite songs and probably the best in the musical as it was before CATS 2019 introduced a new song, but I feel that out of context it simply doesn't have punch. It gets trotted out to showcase a singer's skill, as a bit of a tearjerker if you're a sentimental person. It is so much more than that.

I didn't understand Grizabella properly until I was well and truly an adult and had taken in multiple cats off the street, and lived near a colony, and watched my own cats become frail, which are all painful things in many ways; AND until I had begun to really feel the weight of my marginalization as a disabled person and an ill person, which means confronting almost daily the fact that I am unlikely to come to the sort of end I would like.

Hold on because I'm going to be unhinged about this cat for a minute.

Grizabella is an aged stray, once welcomed, now abandoned and unloved, considered ugly even by others like her (who are shown to supposedly accept differences and value, or at least respect, most everyone...but not her).

She lives in a haunted, lonely state unacknowledged by anyone except to be driven away. She can no longer care for herself, she is filthy and matted and scarred and probably in a lot of pain, she is starving, and she has nothing but her memories of better times, and every single dawn is both a gift and a miserable curse. She gets to remember. She has to remember.

If you watch, Grizabella is onstage a LOT, she's just off in the background, usually poorly lit, where she tries to mirror the dances happening on the main part of the stage, dances she knows because that was once her, there in the spotlight, shining. But now she's in too much pain to dance and her body isn't working right anymore. I have no doubt Grizabella is dying. The question is whether she will get to do that well, comforted and with dignity, or do it badly and alone.

I cannot HANDLE Grizabella.

If you have even the tiniest inkling of love for cats, if you believe every cat's life is worth something, her story should destroy you.

The legendary Jennifer Hudson's performance in the movie brought a really angry and confrontational turn to her, and it was flat out amazing. A rebuke of a performance. It really hurts to watch but it's what the role has always needed. She isn't just weak and sad, she clings to the tatters of her dignity and is angry that the others don't see her as a whole person. Just a miserable shadow to be avoided. A cautionary tale. We are never told what terrible thing she did to deserve her fall, and given that most of the Jellicles are young, I don't know that any of them really remember.

I will physically fight anyone who says she should not have been selected to ascend to a new life. She was the only choice. Even Gus. Even him. He can have his turn next year. Grizabella does not have another year in her.

And I'm going to make some folks mad but I love the 2019 movie (it's bad) and the new song, Beautiful Ghosts, is amazing, and I DO prefer Taylor Swift's version as the movie version is a little more timid (fitting the role and musical way better) but TS fucking BELTS IT and I get chills every time.

The lyrics are incredible and the song is gorgeous, gorgeous. And strung together with Grizabella's song, it finishes the musical in a way that it was a bit unfinished before. It uses an actual full song to connect Grizabella to the Ball and the Choice more directly than any choreography ever did or could:

Victoria, the White Cat and viewpoint character, still almost a kitten, has been dumped in the street and into a terrifying and beautiful new life.

After being swept up into its wonder, she sees Grizabella, utterly rejected, hissed at, made fun of, despised, and aches with the injustice of it -- Victoria was snatched right up by the other cats the instant her paws hit the ground, but nobody will take in Grizabella. Not even her own kind.

Victoria sees how strangely similar they are and feels a kinship that has no pity in it at all, but wonder and respect.

So Victoria sings this new song expressing the first admiration Grizabella has heard in god alone knows how long, reminding her she has had an amazing life worth envy and renown, and she pulls this horrible decrepit old mess of a cat into the Jellicle Ball, where she is FINALLY relieved of her pain.

Like? I'm crying right now?

It isn't a serious musical, but Grizabella's story runs through it like a cold current, something real and terrible, surrounded by absolute ridiculousness. Her numbers are deadly serious, never played for laughs. And ultimately it is her story that turns out to be the most important one, the truest one, and it is dark, and it is hopeful but only in only the most painful and grief-stricken way. She isn't brought back into a comfortable life with other cats to be happy and surrounded by love. She essentially...dies and goes to cat heaven. She embodies hope itself to the others, and her ascension represents a deeply humbling lesson in humility and grace. Her suffering and her ascent represent the possible future of every one of them, and now they have to confront that, and their treatment of her. She was rewarded, and for all their beauty and charm they were not.

Anyway I'm not normal about it.

The lyrics from Beautiful Ghosts that I love are:

Perilous night, their voices calling. A flicker of light, before the dawning. Out here the wild ones are taming the fear within me. Scared to call them my friends and be broken again. Is this hope just a mystical dream?

and

And so maybe my home Isn't what I had known, what I thought it would be. But I feel so alive With these phantoms of night, and I know that this life isn't safe but it's wild and it's free!

Like, come on. It's a lovely song and it took my breath away in the theater.

Ugh this musical touched me as a feral cat girl of 10 and it touches me again as a sad catguy in their 40s. Truly a very stupid work of weirdly meaningful art and one for the ages.

There are much better musicals, but none of them are part of me.

#cats the musical #grizabella

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