#a lot of good and some really bad things happened this year but the common theme was: stress lol
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Very Personal Take on Good Omens
I've always related more to Crowley. It has always been easier for me to understand them than Aziraphale, especially in s1. Don't get me wrong, I've adored Aziraphale since day one too, I just think that, personality wise, we have less traits in common.
However, since the end of s2, I've been able to really feel for Aziraphale and immediately found myself defending them and their final decision. I won't lie and tell you that, at the beginning, I didn't feel angry and even a little betrayed at all, but once I cooled down and thought about it with a clear mind I got it. And, later, I also got the reason why I was feeling so defensive about Aziraphale.
Last year I broke up with my partner, with whom I also had a lot of mutual friends. I was the one to call it off and I did it because there were some dynamics I couldn't tolerate anymore, but I still loved them and I suffered a lot (still do sometimes). Still, I knew it was the right thing to do for the both of us and I never regretted it.
The thing is, the friends we had in common never really bothered to check up on me: I was the one to call it off and I was the one who'd always appeared emotionally stronger, so why would I be suffering? However, they comforted my ex multiple times, sometimes right after I'd gone home, because they just burst into tears in front of everyone. Obviously, I was very sad and cried a lot too, I just avoided doing it in front of our mutual friends to avoid creating sides (when we broke up we promised this to each other).
Connecting all of this to Good Omens, I believe that something like that is happening in the fandom too. A lot of people are hyper focusing on Crowley's pain because it's more obvious and understandable to them, while they're painting Aziraphale as the "bad one" who broke their heart and doesn't care about them just because they were the one who made the difficult decision. And, while I understand it's easier to see it that way, I also think it's not actually that hard to dig a little deeper.
Just because someone's pain is more evident doesn't mean they were the only one to get hurt and didn't hurt back too. Crowley hurt Aziraphale too, even if we might not see it immediately or as clearly as the other way around. They're both suffering, there is no right and wrong side, they both made mistakes and, nonetheless, it's no doubt they love each other and deserve a happy ending.
I hope this makes sense. It's a very emotionally charged analysis so, even if you don't agree, be polite about it please. I know I didn't get too much into what happened in the final 15, but I've already made (and I'll make) other specific posts about it. This one was more of an emotional take.
I'd also like to underline that none of this is a contest about who's hurting more. It's an invitation not to take for granted other people's feelings but actually try and understand both sides of a situation, even if we naturally relate to or understand one more than the other. (Of course, this doesn't apply to toxic relationships).
#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#aziracrow#final 15#the final fifteen#good omens season 2#good omens thoughts#break up
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Y'know re zero reminds a lot of umineko and higurashi. Stories where the protags are dying and resetting over and over again to fight against fate. For a chance that is "infinitely close to zero"(yes literal quote---thats how unlikely victory was) or that one dude from toaru that died 100 billion times, resetting through horrific worlds.
What do they have in common? The protags save/forgive/pity their torturers. WHDAA cast has every right to beat some sense into Subaru damn. I get the whole "understanding the heart of others" theme. I love it, but like--there should be a line somewhere that got lost in the corpses of previous loops. Especially, since most of the time they are redeemed because they have a tragic backstory. Like "ofc I forgive you for torturing me for 100 years because your parents are dead"
Penny for your thoughts?
God I need to watch Higurashi. Too bad I cant FIND THE DAMN SERIES ANYWHERE— also I’ve heard of Umineko but I have no idea what it is lol. Maybe I’ll check it out. Same with A Certain Magical Index.
And — honestly, to an extent I agree with you lol, cause even if I haven’t watched any of those series I am very familiar with the “all is forgiven” trope that tends to happen in anime a lot. I think it often tends to feel a little unbalanced, ESPECIALLY if the perpetrator is some sort of waifu character. Like — okay, there’s this anime that came out a few years ago called Ranking of Kings that I actually really liked for the most part, except the way they handled the main villain (a woman named Miranjo) was just BAFFLING. She did all this horrible stuff in the first half, but then the second half was basically just — everyone bending over backwards to excuse/forgive her simply because…that’s what the author wanted to happen. And the thing is? I was one of like five viewers (judging by those comments :/) who would actually have totally been on board with her redemption if they hadn’t done that. I thought she was a fascinating character, possibly my favorite in the series, and I even saw the potential for her becoming a better person if they were to go that route. But then they hammered it in SO MUCH because the author wanted the audience to like her SO BADLY that — it just RUINED her.
That’s what I think the problem often is: the hand of the author becomes too obvious, and as their actions get excused by the narrative practically bending over backwards to get the audience to like the characters, the characters get flattened down and all their edges sanded off. To be entirely honest it’s the main issue I have with how Rem is often portrayed in this fanbase, because — a really large subset of fans seems to have looked at that HOT MESS of a person and decided that taking her “perfect waifu” facade at face value was the more appealing option, lol.
—It totally makes sense for Subaru, though. As a character this is, it makes SOO much sense that he’s like this. And…I’m actually holding out hope that it’s gonna be addressed as an issue in-universe at some point, due to 1) some very choice descriptors on his part of all those horrible things being “good memories” that are VERY worrying and 2) post-amnesia!Rem very explicitly ending up in antagonistic role to her old self regarding how they each want Subaru to develop going forward.
As for my own react fic…yeah. Rem is. Rem is gonna be in some SERIOUS hot water. If I may: I think that a lot of react fics tend to gloss over her behavior a little too much for my liking, due to her being a popular character (or even a favorite of the author lol) and as such the fic goes out of its way to make sure that the conversation leads to everyone forgiving her one way or another. …I, personally, do not plan on pulling my punches one single bit.
;)
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The Lost Haven (7/16)
[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]
[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]
[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]
Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.
Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
He could have become a father.
Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.
He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.
He couldn't change who he was.
He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.
But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.
This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.
And the complications that came with it.
Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.
He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.
He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.
Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.
Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.
The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.
If it worked out, they would study together.
Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.
Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.
He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.
What if his grandfather found out?
If he was putting her and himself in danger?
He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.
"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.
He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.
They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.
The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.
The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.
"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.
"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.
"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."
As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.
He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.
"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.
She blinked and looked at him, surprised.
"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.
"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.
She was angry and bored.
"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.
How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?
He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.
This thought terrified him.
Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.
"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.
"Larys Strong."
He looked at her, furrowing his brow.
"What?"
"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."
"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"
"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."
He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.
This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.
They hoped she'd call for Daemon.
That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.
"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.
Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.
"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.
"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.
"What?"
"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"
He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.
His little lamp.
Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.
That's what she was to him.
"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.
He wanted to touch her.
He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.
Not after what he'd done to her.
"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.
She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.
He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.
He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.
"Walk me out." He whispered.
To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.
He knew it was wrong.
He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.
The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.
The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.
It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.
The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.
"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.
He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.
"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.
Another fucking interrogation?
"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.
"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."
He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.
He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.
Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.
"With my niece."
Otto laughed low, shaking his head.
"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.
He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.
"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.
He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.
"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.
For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.
The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.
"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.
He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.
He wouldn't believe him anyway.
"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.
When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.
He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.
He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.
He wanted to be able to love her.
Just her, just this one time in his life.
Was he asking for so much?
The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.
Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.
And then he began to read.
"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."
He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.
"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.
He mocked them, he thought.
His father had mocked them for the last time.
He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.
His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.
Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?
Yet it meant nothing.
Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.
Because he was disgusting.
They all were.
"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.
He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.
He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.
And he didn't even notice it.
All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.
He destroyed himself for nothing.
He had nothing.
In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.
A fucking property by the sea.
"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.
We will attack their family.
We have to act.
His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.
He thought they looked pathetic.
"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.
"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.
Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.
"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.
Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.
He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.
"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"
He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.
"Aemond."
"No."
"No, what?"
"Don't drag her into this."
His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.
"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.
"You knew."
"What?"
"That Larys had plans for her."
"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."
"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.
"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."
He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.
"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."
He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.
Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.
"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."
Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.
"That's my boy."
He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.
She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.
Perhaps she was pregnant.
Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.
She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.
She was not naive.
Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.
He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.
But what will happen to them then?
They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.
They will stop being competitive in the business.
They will lose customers.
They will go out of the game.
They will cease to count.
They will have no way to pay the police.
They will go to prison.
He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.
She looked so beautiful.
He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.
"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.
He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.
He wanted to be reassured.
He wanted to make love to her.
"– come here –"
"– I have to –"
"– come –"
"– I –"
"– it won't take long –"
Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.
"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.
He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.
He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.
It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.
All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.
"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.
"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.
Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.
He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.
"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.
"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.
"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.
He didn't want to hurt her.
Never.
"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.
He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.
It felt so good.
So right.
"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.
I'm sorry.
He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.
He was afraid he would change his mind then.
"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.
She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.
He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.
He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.
Maybe he could carry her home?
Leave her at the gate and run away?
But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?
He realised that there was no way back.
Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.
He thought she would never forgive him for this.
When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.
"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.
His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.
"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.
"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.
"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.
She was disgusted with him.
He understood her.
He longed for her to think of him like that.
He desired to suffer.
"– yes –"
He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.
Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.
"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.
Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.
Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.
He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.
He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.
"– I will always watch over you –"
In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.
"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.
She would never forgive him for this.
"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.
"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.
"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.
His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.
"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.
He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.
"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.
She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.
"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"
She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.
"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.
"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.
"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.
He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.
"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.
She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.
He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.
She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.
"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.
He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.
"– please – please, say something –"
But she said nothing.
For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.
He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.
She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.
When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.
On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.
"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.
Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.
"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"
Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.
"– I had no choice –"
Lie.
"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"
He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.
The only being she touched was Vhagar.
He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.
Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.
She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.
He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.
She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.
Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.
She knew.
Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.
As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.
As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.
Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.
Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.
He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.
She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.
One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.
He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.
"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.
"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.
"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.
Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.
"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"
She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.
"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.
"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.
"– you broke my heart –"
Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.
He had broken her.
"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.
"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"
"– I don't believe you –"
He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.
"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.
Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.
"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.
"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.
He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.
Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.
"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.
"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.
"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.
He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.
"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.
However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.
"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.
"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"
"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.
"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.
"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.
"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.
However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.
In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.
Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.
However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.
"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.
Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.
She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.
He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.
"I'd like to take a bath." She said.
He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.
"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.
They never left her alone.
For her own safety.
"No." She said and looked at him.
"I want ten minutes alone."
He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.
"Very well. I'll wait by the door."
She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.
"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.
He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.
Ten minutes, no more.
He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.
He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.
However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.
He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.
"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.
"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.
"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.
It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.
He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.
For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.
"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.
"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.
"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.
He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.
He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.
"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.
"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.
He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.
"– Mum –"
Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.
He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.
He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.
She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.
He made her do this.
When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.
"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.
He could have done something that mattered.
He could have saved her.
He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.
When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.
"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.
"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.
If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.
He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.
He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.
What child would want to be born into such a world?
When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.
For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.
"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.
"Yes." He replied dispassionately.
"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.
His mother picked him up from the hospital.
"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.
He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.
"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.
His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.
"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.
"I destroyed her."
Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.
"What do you mean?"
He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.
"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.
His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.
"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.
He was not surprised.
"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.
"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.
"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.
"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.
"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"
He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.
"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"
His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.
"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.
"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.
Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.
"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.
"– yes –"
"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."
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pippin headcanons:
does not know how to tie shoes
this is because 1) hobbits don’t wear shoes and 2) he hasn’t put together that you can just tie shoes like you tie anything else
can do knots and makes friendship bracelets (albeit clunky ones)
they’re very bad and no one tells him this. they will just wear it until it falls off or he’s not looking
does not know how to put a duvet cover on- isn’t quite sure what a duvet is, either
he avoids this by sleeping under quilts. he acquires them by visiting grandma/great aunt/older relatives, acts cold, and then is generously given one. this has happened several times, all with great success. if you call him on this, he is delighted because he gets to use his favorite line: quilty as charged!
he sleeps under a mountain of pillows and blankets and then complains about being to warm at night.
wholeheartedly prides himself on being the Tallest Hobbit (thanks, treebeard)
before that, it was that he was the Fastest Hobbit according to one race he and merry did, once, at a cousins twelfth birthday party
he, very generously, offered to pass this title on to merry, who came in second (two person race) but merry maintains that Fastest Hobbit means nothing now that they both have longer legs. merry has challenged pippin to several rematches. pippin conveniently cannot make any of them
will intentionally and maliciously place things on the top shelf so you have to ask him
can french braid his toe hair. don’t ask him how he figured this out
cannot dutch braid. is bitter about this.
put chocolate chips in scrambled eggs and called it “chegs” and now he has that every thursday for first breakfast.
chegs, truly, are awful. imagine charred eggs with bits of shell. now add in the weirdly dry melted chocolate you get from microwaving it. okay, now put that in a pan and only cook (burn) 3/4th of it and also whatever’s left in the pan from whatever was cooked last
now you have chegs, a la pippin
loves to make this for company. gandalf and legolas are the only ones who will eat it.
frodo hates it but merry has put it in pippins head that frodo LOVES chegs and now pippin makes it for him everytime he comes over
one had a dandelion stuck in his ear for an estimated two weeks. pippin maintains he has no idea how it got there, so no one really knows how long it would have stayed had no one said anything
his mother thought it was a fashion statement- like when he went through his hat phase, in which pippin tried to wear a different hat each day of the week. then it escalated to a diffent color of hat, then type of hat-
merry finally broke the news to him that he does not look even remotely good in hats (his hair fills it out weirdly) and pippin had to be stopped because he was going to shave his hair off to commit to the bit-
then, one day, the hats kinda just disappeared and pippin will ignore you if you ask about it.
gandalf once in the heat of the moment told pippin that he put a wizard curse on him so that the hobbit will be struck down if he doesn’t stop talking. pippin asked “what do you mean by wizard curse” and now lives in fear of a wizards wrath everytime it storms. (gandalf did in fact, not put such a curse on pippin but pippin does not know that. if told he doesn’t believe you)
that being said he very much does not understand how lightning works. some of his common misconceptions:
lightning does not hit salt water. if it did, then all the fish would be dead. (there is a salt lake outside of bree that was struck three years ago, pippin says they’re liars)
lightning does not strike when you blink. if you eat a lot of beans, you won’t get struck by lightning. lightning changes color depending on where its going to hit. horses can’t be struck by lightning, they’re too fast. cats can’t be struck by lightning, because they’re small AND fast. if you sprinkle salt on your head, lightning will not hit you. (this stems from lighting doesn’t hit salt water)
also doesn’t not understand weather. all clouds are rain clouds. no exceptions. (if clouds are water then it must mean rain)
it cannot rain on wednesdays. weather resets for the day when the sun sets. legolas backs him up on the last one.
will put anything on toast. loves making up new combos. some favorites include: olives and butter, cheese and jam, (valid) anchovies and tomato sauce, (not valid) pickles and cream cheese, asparagus and peanut butter
has a shelf dedicated to wooden trinkets (see boromir post) that is very large and a fire hazard.
has an unknown number of pet cats. at least two but they filter in and out. they’re all named gandalf.
gandalf does not this this. everyone else thinks it’s hilarious.
sends various rocks in the post to gimli. gimli does not know why pippin does this but accepts the rocks gratefully. pippin also sends legolas leaves, which legolas is delighted about each time.
if he can cheat in a board/card game, he will. he will also deny this and get really upset if someone else cheats.
#lord of the rings#lotr#legolas#jrr tolkien#lotr headcanons#jrrt#lotr headcannon#lord of the rings headcanons#pippin took#merry brandybuck#merry and pippin#peregrin took#hobbit#the shire#hobbits#the hobbit#thain of the shire#frodo baggins#samwise gamgee#pippin headcannons#jolkien rolkien rolkien tolkien#fellowship of the ring#the lord of the rings#middle earth#middle earth headcannons#hobbit headcanons#lotr theories#headcanons#pippin#lotr pippin
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AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?
It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.
To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.
It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.
In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.
Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.
And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).
I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.
We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).
A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.
We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.
Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.
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Excuses
Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries
Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.
A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.
I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!
Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!
Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.
Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.
Since day one, you knew you hated her.
It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.
This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.
Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.
In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.
The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.
Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.
So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.
However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.
"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.
She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.
"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."
Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."
You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.
It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.
However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.
Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.
Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.
Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.
With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.
You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.
*****
It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.
That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.
Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.
They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.
In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.
Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.
"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.
"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.
"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."
"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."
Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.
"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"
"Go get her. We're done here."
*****
Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.
"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.
"It's Y/N."
Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.
"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.
"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."
"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"
You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.
Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.
It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.
"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.
And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.
"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."
Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.
"Hmm, maybe."
*****
Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.
Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.
He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.
Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.
Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.
One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.
This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.
It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.
"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"
The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.
"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"
This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."
The principal remained silent.
"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"
The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.
#onechicago#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#halstead sister#jay halstead#will halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead oneshot#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead x sister!reader#will halstead x reader#will halstead imagine#will halstead x sister!reader
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We Are and the evolution of Thai BL tropes
The QL discord started a rewatch of My Engineer a few weeks ago, and damn, has it been an interesting experience. At the time I originally watched My Engineer, there was little that stuck out to me, because so much of what happened felt so incredibly common in a lot of the (admittedly rather limited) number of BLs being produced. It felt like pretty standard fare.
But going back and watching it in juxtaposition with We Are airing has been so fascinating. This genre has been evolving, y'all.
As much as we all joke about always getting more university BLs, there is something to be said for a format that can be used as something of a metric for the genre. And though there's only four years between My Engineer and We Are, seeing them both at once gives me such an incredible appreciation for the direction the genre is going in, the impact of having more queer voices involved in the creation of QLs, and how there's a lot of good we can find in seemingly simple spaces.
Obligatory disclaimer: This is just my perspective and subjective interpretation of what I have seen as a BL viewer of some time; also I don't have time to go in and do a university deep dive, so this isn't a real analysis, but more of a brief writeup of observations.
Trends are not black and white, of course, there is a spectrum. I'm sure we'll suffer through more Dinosaur Loves. At the same time, having such predominant production companies as GMMTV putting effort into hiring queer creatives and subverting old cliche tropes is an encouraging thing. (Especially as they were the creators of the original university trendsetting BL with Sotus).
Note: For newer QL viewers, I highly recommend @absolutebl for brushing up on trope history. For university BLs in particular, this post and this post are great starting primers.
Let's talk tropes!
Ok, one more note - some tropes are being what I would consider subverted, some more adapted to a newer framework, and some just played with - I'm going to talk about how they appear to me, but I'm not going to be super pedantic over it, because this is just for fun.
Trope: Bullying/hazing behavior
This did not age well in My Engineer, and I would guess hasn't aged well in a number of BLs (and other media, because the whole "he's mean to you because he likes you" bullshit has been around forever). Not just because the behavior was shitty, but because it was played off in the script as cute, and implied that it was completely justified for the seme to do whatever he wanted in his pursuit of his uke.
(There was also quite a strong tone of internalized homophobia, with the lead feeling more comfortable in expressing his interest through harassment than honest emotion, but the show never actually engaged with that in any meaningful way.)
We Are sets up a very traditional enemies to lovers/bullying start to the story, with Phum taking advantage of Peem's economic situation to make him his "slave".
And yet... there's some important elements here that make this more than the standard use of the trope.
Phum keeps it pretty light in his bullying behavior, and clearly is using it more to keep Peem around as company, versus the kind of bullying in My Engineer, where Duen is literally hit by a car, and yet still expected to keep jumping to Bohn's whims.
As soon as Phum realizes he really upset Peem by leaving him waiting at the mall, he genuinely feels awful about it. It's clear that his intent is not to cause harm, and that he has a conscience. He wrestles with his feelings on it quite a bit, and it ends up being the thing that gets Phum to finally express an honest emotion with Peem.
And most importantly, the script does not let him off the hook. His behavior is bad, and is identified as such by the writing. Peem pushes back and is shown to be right to do so, Beer openly says he disapproves.
So instead of a cliche story beat that's used just to start the action, or a seme who's allowed to do whatever he wants because "passion" (blech), we're seeing it used for characterization, giving us important beats about who both Phum and Peem are in how they engage with each other through the use of the trope.
Trope: Obsessive/jealous behavior
Oh, this one was painful in My Engineer. Duen couldn't even talk to another human being without Bohn getting jealous and angry and dragging him away.
Phum gets jealous, particularly around Kluen, but what makes it feel so subversive here are two key things.
Phum's jealousy has a purpose here, it's not just for drama's sake. It's not the cliche seme doing whatever he wants and being treated as justified. It's deliberately being used to explore his insecurities, and give him a challenge to overcome. Phum doesn't stomp over and drag Peem away, he retreats, he hides. When his jealousy causes him to lash out at Peem, he is immediately aware he fucked up.
And again, the script is making it clear that this behavior is not ok. Peem chides Phum when he acts unkind to Kluen, and Beer makes it clear that the solution is not petty behavior, but actually figuring out a way to communicate his feelings with Peem before he misses his chance. This is portrayed as a barrier for Phum to overcome in order to be with Peem, not an expected part of a romantic relationship.
Trope: Friendship group
There are not enough words to express how much I love the friendship group in We Are. To be fair, this is one of the better historical tropes. We've gotten a lot of amazing friend groups, even in mediocre BLs.
But it's still different in We Are, for one simple reason. In most university BLs, the friend group is a supporting structure. But here?
The story lines may be about the romance, but the point of We Are is the friendship.
I will die on this hill, y'all.
I don't have enough time to go into it fully here, but this show is a love letter to friends. It's a tribute to finding the people who see the real you and have your back unconditionally. Who cheer your successes and commiserate over your defeats, who pick you up when the world knocks you down, who call you out when you make mistakes, and push you to be better.
And romance is lovely, but all of these budding relationships are about being friends first, and then lovers, because that friendship is just as important as everything else, if not more.
Trope: Pink milk
Lol, ok, kinda kidding, kinda not. I know we all got mad over the drink wastage, but also check out these visuals - it's about diversity baby!!
TanFang speed round
My two little trope-busting bebes. These two are already so beautifully non-traditional in their composition, but I love how frequently they are used to make fun of and play with tropes just on their own.
Introduced as pining crush/friend's older brother pair, but actually secret enemies to lovers.
Grumpy/sunshine pairing, where the sunshine used to be a fighter, and grumpy smiles when he thinks no one is watching.
Wound-tending where they keep poking each other instead of acting soft.
Openly mocking the jealous boyfriend trope.
Setting up the possessive trope when Tan doesn't pick up Fang's calls, only to immediately have Fang question if he's being unreasonable.
Setting up their own cute eating scene for kicks.
"First time" sex scene making it clear this is anything but their first time.
Tan holding Fang down in the cliche possessive pose, only for Fang to take the agency of kissing Tan. (And overall saying eff off at the cliche top/bottom roles old BLs were such a fan of).
In Summary
I'm sure there are more tropes that will come to me, and we do still have 5 episodes left of We Are, so there are some potential trope uses that I am keeping an eye on. This is by no means an all-inclusive list.
But I wanted to write this, because I was genuinely shocked to realize how different my My Engineer watching experience was this time compared to my first time. How over the last few years I'd come to expect more thoughtfulness in my QL media, even in the ones that seem shallow on the surface.
Considering how fast and furious the QLs are coming these days, it's easy to forget how recent it was that we were much more starved of content. And I think sometimes we forget to take in the big picture, of how far we've come in just a few years.
Critique is always going to be important, of course, it's part of what helps us make progress. At the same time, it doesn't hurt to take a moment to look around and see some good in where we are.
@sailorbryant thanks for the push to get this written! Feel free to add thoughts!
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Just imagining being abducted by aliens that want to test human fertility and capability with their alien race to reproduction
AFAB body, bad English I'm don't really care enough to beta, aliens, eggs that kind of stuff
Waking up on a freezing cold table and completely naked isn't exactly what you expect first thing in the morning. Especially when you remember clearly of going sleep in your own bed and with clothes.
But guess what, surprise, you have been chosen in a small group os humans to be tested to be a new breeding cow for a alien race! They can't reproduce among their own species so they always look in other planets for keep their race alive.
They choosed a little group of humans and now they will be testing if they are compatible to their needs, don't be scared, they will take good care of you... And well if they earth and humans aren't useful for them maybe they will exterminate the whole planet but this is just some small details!
You are completely naked in the table, feeling like those frogs from medicine students, they still do that? Your hands and feet are tied by chains in the table, not too tight but you definitely can't escape, not that you would have any change even if you escape, you are years from distance to earth silly, you are in space!
The room is all weird, white walls and bright lights in the roof, almost hurting your eyes. There is a lot of shelves full of weird things, bottles, machines, d-dildos?!
Before you can try indentify anything, since you still don't have any fucking idea of why they kidnapped you and why you are naked, maybe they will literally open you and check your organs, the door opens and you hear steps.
Three men enter the room, they are definitely aliens you can say that just looking at their skin colors. One have some dark green, the other one has a purple one with some lighter spots, and the last has a grey skin.
They don't have multiple arms or many eyes, besides their eyes has a black background instead of white, and their eyes have also other non common colors. All of them have orange eyes, a little yellow or red.
Initially they ignore you, even if you try to talk and ask what is happening, they just continue as you are a dog barking. One of them, with the green skin, goes to a machine that looks some kind of computer, multiples screens flooting even if you can't understand a single word, even numbers can't look humans to you. There's no much you can by just trying to lift your head, still stuck in the table.
The other one grabs a chair e some type of tablet, the one with purple skin, and approach you, starting to write down things, still ignoring you though.
The other one, with the grey skin, looks to be preparing something, you can't actually see him, but you heard the songs of things being moved, glass sounds or other things. At least by the sounds nothing looks sharp, but duh you can't be sure, you can only pray.
"Stats?" The grey one ask, you can see his medium black hair, the ends of the hair are silver and looking him by his back he could be a human. They are definitely not the alien you saw in movies, well, maybe the hot version of them?
"Heart rate stable, anxiety levels high but not alarming, the inserted translator seems to work well considering the vocal response, confirmation with future tests" The purple one respond, wait how they know about your heartbeat?! Anxiety levels?! Wait what they mean about translator?! They put something inside you?! Like with a surgery?!
"The test instruments?" Again the grey one, he is the leader? Something like that?
"everything is prepared" you imagine that this is the grey one talking, you heard the sound of something getting closer and then he is back in your point of vision, with a little table by his side with some weird things... But you don't have time to look at them properly, because the grey one is now approaching you.
"Salutations human, you have been choosed in a select small group of humans in propose of checking your fertility compatible with our race, with the final goal of reproducing" He says and all you do it's some little screams and beg for mercy, actually you aren't sure if that is really what you are talking, you are nervous, confused, scared, you can't actually say nothing properly.
"don't be scared human, all the test are painless and won't hurt you, our goal is only analys all your body and determine if your body is able to hold a baby of our race." The green continue talking, ignoring your fear and looking at your with even some kind of boring?! Like you are just an annoyance!
"that means we are going to check a lot of fun things on you" the purple one says, puting his tablet away and sitting on the chair, he puts his elbows on the table, looking excited and amused. "We have to be sure that each little part of you it's perfect you know?"
Even with you crying and squirming on the table, they just ignore you.
"Yes, our test is is very thorough. Every detail must be checked" the grey says, he looks excited too, but just a little more chill about it.
"let's start with the basic, we need to check the vaginal canal depth, also how much it can stretch to be able to put the eggs" E-Eggs? They don't produce babies like humans?! They have eggs?! Real eggs?! Like what dragons?!
"After that we need to see natural lubrification..." He keeps listing like that is just some normal medical exam, not that they are literally going to open your pussy up and see if you are going to be a good breeding cow!
"oooh I like this part, is always fun to see what make them all horny and shy, those humans look to have some funny parts though..." The purple one looks at you as you are a prey, almost a toy, to play and see what reactions he can get from you.
"Don't forget our goal, don't get carried away because of some exciting " the grey one says and the purple agrees, but you feel he don't actually listened.
"After that we already going to try the real fertility test?" The grey ones ask, and the green now is finally looking at you.
"Yes, is they pass the other parts of the test then we will start the breeding teste, if they are able to get pregnant and incubate the eggs properly, also surviving after laying them so they will considered a success" The green says and the others agrees. W-wait they are talking serious? They really just breed you and our eggs inside you? You don't know even their names! Not that change anything you have been literally kidnaped their names don't matter!
You try to talk, tries to respond and protest, but again they just ignore you. This time is even worst, the grey one just get a gag from the other table and lock into your mouth. Now all you can do it's muffle some words and try to shake your head.
"Starting the application of the aphrodisiac in reason to calm down the subject and guarantee comparation with the test" the grey one says and you can see him getting a needle. Aphrodisiac?! They going to drug you so you can be easier?!
"maybe a test without the aphrodisiac will be necessary in the future..." The green says, writing down something.
"don't worry human" the purple one says, stroking your cheek gently. "We are going to take care of you, it's going to be so good breeding you, we are going to be sure you will love having our eggs, until you are completely full..." His other hands touchs your belly and you feels your soul leaving your body. "And once all you can think is being fucked and breed, you going see it's not that bad being with us, okay?" He say with a smile in his face.
"Alright, let's start the test."
#x male reader#x reader#alien x human#alien x reader#ftm nsft#monster boyfriend#male x male#male x reader#eggpreg#monster nsft#monster fucker#ovipositor#monster x reader#ns/fw blog#alien boyfriend
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New Things and Misunderstandings - Naruto Omegas x Alpha!reader
A/N: Happy birthday @omeganronpa !!!! I can't write more because ow, but yay, it's your birthday! I don't know what this post is, I just picked a few of your favs and wrote about misunderstandings lol, but I hope you like it anyway lmaoooo ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜🤎🖤🩶🤍
Warnings: Just some innuendo lol. And me thinking I'm funny, that needs a warning.
Naruto
*Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto having a drink together*
Sakura: It's your birthday soon, right Naruto? Do you have anything special planned?
Naruto: Uh, not much. Work is crazy, y'know?
Sakura: Ugh, you don't have to tell me. I haven't got my birthday off from the hospital in four years.
Naruto: Yeah, it sucks. I'll probably just spend the evening at home with my alpha. I was thinking of asking for a quickie or something.
Sasuke: *grimacing* Tmi, dobe.
Naruto: What? I've never had one before, so I thought it'd be cool to try.
Sakura: Naruto! No one wants to hear this.
Naruto: Why? You don't like quickies? I always thought they looked tasty. I mean, they aren't ramen of course, but I always get birthday ramen from Ichiraku, so I can't ask my alpha to make it.
Saskue: ...
Sakura: Naruto, spell quickie.
Naruto: Um, okay? I think it's Q-U-I-CH-E.
Sasuke: 🙄
Sakura: 😠
Shikamaru
Alpha: *in the middle of a chat with Kiba* -and Shikaku was so hot yesterday, it's kind of crazy, y'know.
*Shikamaru suddenly walks in, home from work, overhearing*
Shikamaru: What 😐
Alpha: Shika! You're home!
Shikamaru: What 😐
Alpha: We were just talking about how the aircon has given up in the jounin headquarters. You must have heard about it. The common room wasn't too bad once everyone opened the windows, but I was just saying that your father was suffering a lot in his small office.
Shikamaru: *visibly relaxing* Oh, I see. Yes, for once I've been grateful that Naruto keeps me in Hokage tower most of the time.
Alpha: Yeah, I bet!
Shikamaru: Okay, I'm going to take a shower upstairs, I'll be back in a bit. *Shikamaru leaves*
Kiba: ...
Alpha: ...
Kiba: Good save.
Alpha: Thanks 😅
Lee
Lee: *sighs sadly*
Alpha: You okay, baby?
Lee: I... Do you think I'm intimidating? To our fellow Konoha shinobi I mean.
Alpha: I mean, I would hope that they have a healthy respect for your abilities, but I don't think people find you unapproachable. Why do you ask? Did something happen?
Lee: I overheard some people talking in the jounin common room. They were saying that they could suffocate in my thighs... But I would never hurt them like that, even in a spar. Do you think they're... afraid of me? 🥺
Alpha: ...
Lee: ...
Alpha: Oh, baby, no.
Shino
Shino: *visibly relieved* Alpha, you're back from your mission!
Alpha: Yes... Is everything okay?
Shino: No... it's Shihori. I'm... I'm worried about her, but I didn't know what to do and you were away and I was scared I'd make it worse so-
Alpha: Woah, slow down. What happened? Is she okay?
Shino: She's... been drawing things. Horrible things. I don't know where she's getting it from, I didn't want to ask in case I made it worse! What do we do??
Alpha: Deep breaths, what sort of things has she been drawing?
*Shino anxiously opens a drawer and pulls out a stack of drawings. They depict large, scary creatures. A brown bear, a purple rabbit, and a yellow chicken. You immediately remember hearing your fellow parent shinobi complain about the latest horror video game trend that became popular with children*
Alpha: Ah. It's Freddy.
Shihori: *overhearing from the living room* YOU KNOW FREDDY, APPA?!?!
Alpha: Of course. And Bonnie. And Chica.
Shihori: 🤩🤩
Shino: 😧
Itachi
Alpha: Oh, hey, you're back from reconnaissance. Did you catch them doing anything suspicious? Pein seemed really sure there were our guys.
Itachi: No. Unfortunately, they both kept entirely normal schedules for the day, as far as I could tell.
Alpha: Damn. So we came all the way out here for nothing?
Itachi: Not quite. While their conversation was mundane, I believe they may have been using a code.
Alpha: Seriously?
Itachi: Indeed. They mentioned at one point that their compatriots had been 'sixty-nining' each other. I believe that might have been code, although I am not sure of it's meaning.
Alpha: ...
Itachi: What?
Alpha: ...
Itachi: You recognise the code?
Alpha: *suddenly remembering that Itachi had no friends as a teenager and parents that taught him how to dismember people instead of teaching him anything about sex*
Alpha: ...I'll explain on the way back 🫠
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The Farmer's Daughter 9
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.
Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.
“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”
“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”
“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.
“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”
“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.
“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”
“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”
You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”
“Don't I know it. He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”
You exhale, “mom.”
“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”
“Ma, you don't know–”
“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”
“Oh, ma–”
“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”
“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.
“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.
“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”
“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”
You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.
🌾
Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.
As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?
He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.
He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.
“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”
“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”
His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”
You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”
“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly.
Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”
“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.
He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.
“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”
“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.
“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”
“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.
“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”
“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.
“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”
“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”
“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”
“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you.
“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”
You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.
#walter marshall#dark walter marshall#dark!walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#drabble#night hunter#the farmer's daughter#series#au#backwoods au
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୨⎯𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ⎯୧
Chapter 3
Authors note: Satoru is actually becoming likeable! Also this isn’t proof read again hehe
Tw: Alcohol consumption
August 20th 2017
After a long summer of rest, fun, and heartbreak, it was finally time for the back-to-school season. And for you, it was time to start your first semester at Kyoto College. You were excited of course, it was a fresh start and a chance to meet new people. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you were still a little hurt about what happened at the festival but you were trying to get over it. That wouldn’t stop the thoughts about how Satoru was supposed to also be going to Kyoto College but had changed his mind a few months beforehand.
Now you think it’s better he doesn’t come. Running into him would most likely go a lot like it did at the festival. There was no universe in which he’d want to see you and potentially be friends. Those were all hopes of the past and you’ve learned to accept it. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t a little mad at Satoru. I mean, after all, he hated you for no reason. He was rude and he made it clear he wanted nothing to do to you. You wish you had gotten the hint earlier in high school so you didn’t look like such a hopeless romantic. Now that you think about it, maybe Alina wasn’t the only one with an obvious crush on Satoru.
More importantly, you were moving out of the only home you’ve ever known for the year. You were dorming on campus with what you hoped would be a good roommate. You packed everything you needed for the time being. You took one last look at your room before heading out. You lived an hour and thirty minutes away from Kyoto University, so you wouldn’t be going home daily. More like once a week or two. It wasn’t too bad a schedule, but for you who aren’t used to being away from home for so long, it would be a little difficult.
Your parents helped you load up the car and you drove to the campus. After finally arriving on campus you had your parents help you load stuff in your dorm. The dorm was average-sized. Your roommate wasn’t coming until tomorrow so it gave you some time to adjust and have things the way you wanted them. You said goodbyes to your family and there you were. Sitting in your empty dorm room with boxes of stuff packed around you. You sighed and laid down on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling. Classes started tomorrow and you were taking the writing class you wanted to take. That was something to look forward to, right?
You explored the campus and got a feel of where you would be dedicating the next four years of your education. You got some ramen at a local ramen shop on campus and went back to your dorm where you would eat in silence. Your roommate decided to come a little earlier and came later that evening. So far you liked her.
Her name was Ayaka. She was 18 and was really interested in majoring in arts. She seemed like someone you could make friends with so that was good. She was super optimistic and she wore bright clothes and had bright room decor. She was the solar opposite of you but it was nice to have the company. You two talked for a while and you realized you weirdly had a lot in common. You botched like reading books, especially manga, you both strive to do good in school, and you both didn’t have any friends. You were just glad to have a good roommate and a nice person to talk to. So far college life was good, even though you hadn’t actually started classes.
So there you were the next day standing in front of your mirror wearing an outfit that wasn’t you at all. You just wanted to make a good impression on your first day, but you figured it would be better if you dressed like yourself. Wearing a mini skirt and a crop top was unlike you, so you changed to the usual hoodie and some sweats. Much better and much more comfortable.
“I like your outfit, Y/N,” Ayaka said from her top bunk as she dangled her legs and played with one of many charm bracelets. You gave her a smile and adjusted your ponytail. “Thanks.” You said putting the last notebook into your bag. Even though you hadn’t even known each other for 24 hours, you were becoming friends. You had a fresh start indeed.
You two went your separate ways as you had classes on opposite sides of the campus. You walked to your first class which was mathematics, a subject you didn’t like but you did decent in it. The class wasn’t too bad. You got to know your professor and some other nearby seatmates. After that, you had social science. You actually made good friends with a friend group consisting of three people. They were all super nice and again you had a bunch of shared interests. This college thing wasn’t so bad after all.
After three classes, you had a break for lunch where you sat with your new-found friends, including Ayaka. You talked about the professors you liked the ones you didn’t and the classes you wanted to take and the ones you didn’t. It was going great until Ayaka mentioned something that piqued your interest immediately.
“Yeah so, in my art class this morning there was this really pretty boy. He seemed popular already too! He had white hair and the prettiest shade of blue eyes you’ve ever seen. He was soo cool. He had these piercings and-” Ayakas voice faded into the background. White hair blue eyes, white hair blue eyes. Surly it couldn’t be him. You heard yourself that he was going to the University of Tokyo with Alina so why would he be here? What could have changed? Then again, maybe it’s not him. His hair could have been a super light blonde instead of white right? But those eyes, you couldn’t mistake those eyes.
Your mind was running wild with thoughts about the mystery man who was possibly Satoru. It was only confirmed when:
“Yeah he was so pretty, I think his name started with an S or something. Sawyer? No that’s stupid. Sa...Ugh, I can’t remember.” She was cut off by you mid-sentence.
“Satoru. His name was Satoru, right?” You asked. You had to be sure it was him. And even if it was, why was he here, why did he change schools last second? You had so many questions, but on top of all of that was the slight bit of hope that maybe things could be different this time.
“Yeah, yeah! That was his name, Satoru. Do you know him or something?” Ayaka said as she took another bite of her Mac and Cheese. Your stomach felt like it was making knots. So it really was him. Satoru Gojo was at your school after all, but why, and did that mean Alina was there?
“Yeah actually, we used to go to the same high school, long story.” You said snapping out of your daydreaming. Ayaka looked surprised at your comment.
“Really? I figured he was a model or something. You must have been lucky to have him at your school.” She said. The rest of your friend's conversation faded into the back as you pondered. Ok so it was confirmed to be him, but now what? There was a likely chance of running into him, but what would you do if you did? Ignore him, smile at him, hell maybe even try to talk to him? But would he even be interested in striking up a conversation with you? Probably not. It’s probably best for you to ignore him like he's done to you right?
After the lunch break ended you headed to class. This one you were pretty excited about because it was the writing class. You got there a bit early so you could get to know the professor. You may have seemed like a teacher's pet to others but you were excited for this professor's class. You took a seat in the middle row of seats and pulled out your supplies. As class officially started students started to flood in, you were looking to see if a certain white head of hair had entered but you hadn’t seen anything yet. Thank god. You weren’t sure if it would be a good or bad thing if he were to come into this class. But if he were to come, you’d try your best to avoid him.
The class filled up rather quickly and there was one seat left which was right by you. As you were waiting for the class to start, you had your head down lost in the fantasy of the book you were reading, you only looked up when you felt the presence of someone sitting next to you. You only looked up when they had dropped their pen and you grabbed it for them. That's when you locked eyes with those eyes. Those beautiful ocean eyes. His eyes. No other than Satoru Gojo sat beside you. You were shocked it really was him. He mumbled a quiet thanks before taking his pen back and looking up at the board. You closed your book and paid attention to the board, not that you were really paying attention though. You kept getting the occasional glance at Satoru and he did the same even going as far as to smile at you. It was like the first day of high school all over again.
Things felt different like he was being maybe even nice to you. Did you change that much over the summer that he couldn’t recognize you or something? The only thing you really changed about your appearance was getting bangs over the summer but unless Satoru’s blind, he would still know it’s you. Unless he was just being genuinely nice for some odd reason. You were so lost in your thoughts that you basically missed half the first lecture, but it didn’t really matter to you now.
After class, you were both packing up when your professor called you up.
“Since you two are the last ones here, can you do me a favor and clean the board and sweep the floors? There’s a board meeting in here next and I haven’t had the time to do it, I have to grab the snacks for everyone.” Your professor asked in a hurry. Normally it would have been an immediate yes, but again it wasn’t just you, it was Satoru too. But you couldn’t turn down your clearly stressed professor just because of a boy so you agreed and so did Satoru.
“Thank you both, I owe ya!” He said walking out of the class and closing the door behind him. An awkward silence fell over the room as you and Satoru stood there for a second before you took the broom and began to sweep. You didn’t care at this point. You just wanted this awkward interaction to be over with. Satoru took an eraser and ran it over the chalk writing on the board. There had been an awkward silence for a few minutes before Satoru finally broke it.
Satoru cleared his throat “So, how did you like his class?” He asked, eyes still preen on removing the chalk writing on the board.
You were silent for a second, still not completely sure he was talking to you. “Uh, I liked it, it was interesting.” You replied focusing on sweeping like it was the most important thing ever.
“Yeah.” He said. He stopped erasing and turned to look at you. You looked up at him and you two made eye contact for what felt like forever. His eyes focused on yours and the same with yours. You cleared your throat before looking back down and sweeping, but Satoru was still looking at you, you could feel it.
“Y/N, I want you to know I’m sorry for being such a douchebag in high school, you didn’t deserve that.” He said rebreaking the silence. Your mouth almost dropped to the floor. Satoru was apologizing to you? Now? Why was he doing it now? Was he dying and he wanted to make right before he passed or something? You stopped your brain from jumping to crazy and stupid conclusions like that and thought of a way to respond to all this.
“It’s.. ok, I guess.” That was all you said as you continued to sweep up the floor. You couldn't stop yourself from asking the next question though. “Why now are you apologizing?” You asked finally looking up from the floor again. He was looking down at you.
“Because we're in college now, there's no need to hold stupid grudges from high school, so let’s have a fresh start, yeah?” He said with a smile. The first ever genuine smile he’s given you since that day in freshman year. You were very surprised, but what he said made sense. Even though it had only been a month since you last saw him, he seemed to grow over such a short period of time. But there was another question eating at you. Where was Alina, and why did he not go to the University of Tokyo with her?
Since Satoru was being honest with you, you did the same.
“So, what happened to your girlfriend?” You asked as you set the broom down, finally being done with your small side quest. A flash of confusion crossed Satoru’s face for a moment as if he was totally unaware of having this so-called ‘girlfriend’.
“Who?” He asked as he finished wiping up the last bit of chalk on the board. Now it was your turn to be the confused one. Just a month ago, Alina had made it very clear that she was with Satoru now. It was confirmed by your own eyes when you saw them kiss in the parking lot too. So why is he now acting like he isn’t dating her? The thought that they may have broken up popped up in your mind as well.
“You know, Alina. She told me you two were together back at the festival, and I saw you guys kissing in the parking lot.” You told him as you sat and spun in the professor's chair right in front of him. Satoru giggled a bit.
“Me and Alina? No, I bet she was just pranking you, we’re not dating. And that kiss was just her trying to make some boy jealous, so I went along.” Satoru said clearing up the misunderstanding.
Maybe the kiss made sense now but you remember very vividly Alina telling you that the two of them were together. It made you a little happy to know that she tried to make you jealous but lied the whole time. And it was clear by Satoru’s tone that he saw her more as a close friend than a girlfriend. But another part of you felt a little bad for Alina. Crazy, right? But the poor girl was so desperate to keep other girls away from him that she would lie and ruin other girl’s reputations one of those being yours. Wait, maybe you don’t feel so bad after all. So they weren’t together, that was kind of a relief. You seemed to note that Satoru probably didn’t want to talk about your little confession, so you didn’t bring it up.
You two were interrupted by the professor coming back in with a tray of snacks and napkins in his hand.
“Thank you, you two. I will pay you back somehow. You can go now, I gotta set up.” He said ushering you out of his classroom. This was the last class of the day so you had nothing but time. You and Satoru awkwardly stood outside the door of the class before he spoke.
“Uh wanna head to the dorms now?” He asked rubbing his undercut. You nodded and you both headed in that direction. The dorms weren’t on the same floor due to the gender-separated dorm system, but they were in the same building. The walk there was silent, it wasn’t as awkward as it would have been before but it was quiet. You finally decide to ask him another question as you enter the building.
“So why’d you not go to the University of Tokyo with Alina?” You said as you both stood at the beginning of the stairwell which would lead to different floors. He took a long pause before speaking.
“It’s gonna seem stupid but, it’s cause my father used to go here and… I don’t know I guess I wanted to carry on his legacy and make him proud.”
Right. You had heard that Satoru’s dad had sadly passed when he was still young and it affected him greatly. He didn’t like talking about it either. So it had to mean something for him to tell you about it.
“Yeah, I thought I wanted to go to the University of Tokyo because a bunch of my friends were going there like Alina and the rest, but, I thought about it and I wanted to come here again. Alina thinks she might transfer here next year, but I don’t think she will.
That made sense now. Satoru always wanted to come here for his dad but was temporarily persuaded by his friends to join them at the University of Tokyo. You were kind of glad that he came to this school. This felt like it could be the beginning of a friendship between the two of you, or something like that.
“Oh, that’s nice I guess.” You said holding on to the straps of your bags. “Well, I’m that way.” You said pointing to your dorm level.
“And I’m that way.” He said pointing to the level of his dorm. “I guess we'll see each other another time, bye Y/N.” He said heading up to his dorm. Maybe Satoru wasn’t so bad after all. He was just misunderstood by you, and Alina didn’t help with that image. He was pretty chill, you see why people wanted to be friends with him so bad.
August 21st 2017
You were woken up bright and early by a text message on your phone. It was six am and you were staring into the bright light of your phone. What stared back at you was a notification saying that Satoru had started following you on Instagram. Your eyes widened for a brief moment as you clicked on his profile skimming through the photos. He had a very active social life, there was no doubt about that.
He had a lot of photos of himself with friends, and family, and traveling to different places. He also had a lot of photos with Alina, who was tagged in each one. You clicked on her user and checked out her page. Half of her pictures were ones with Satoru. You blocked her before hitting the ‘follow’ button on Satoru’s profile. You put your phone down and went right back to sleep.
Later that morning you woke up and started getting ready when your phone dinged again. This time it was a DM from Satoru on Instagram. You opened it and read what he had said. “I was just looking through your profile and I didn’t know you liked manga. I have a big collection myself.” He said. You smiled at that because, under his popular boy image, he was just as much as much as a nerd as you.
“Yeah, I like reading One Piece, what about you?” You texted back as you resumed getting ready.
“Same!” He said. This brought another smile to your face.
After finally getting ready, you started walking onto campus with your friends but their conversations faded to the back as you thought about things with Satoru. Things were going great so far, and it indeed seemed like the beginning of a friendship.
“Yeah, there’s a party there tonight, wanna go? Y/N?” Ayaka tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of it. “What are you pondering about?” Ayaka asked.
“Nothing, what were you asking me?” You said brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
“I was asking if you want to go to a party with me tonight! It’s for the freshman and like everyone is going. Ayaka said nudging your shoulder. You had other academic things to focus on that night so you declined.
“Nah that's ok, you guys have fun though.” You said as you pulled out your phone and checked for any DM’s. Nothing new from Satoru. You wonder if he’s going to the party, but then remember it’s Satoru, of course, he would be there with girls swarming all around him.
After classes that day, you went to a coffee shop on campus and did a little reading there. You were at the climax of the book when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You took out your headphones and turned around to see Satoru with some books in his hands.
“Can I sit here?” Here said with a few strands of his snow colored hair in his face. You nodded and he sat down. You took out your headphones and closed your book.
“So are you going to that freshman party thing tonight?” Satoru asked taking a sip of his expresso.
“No, it doesn’t really interest me.” You said playing with the rim of your novel. “Are you going?” You asked as you stared at him. You were tempted to move those strands of hair out of his face as you paid attention to him.
“Yeah, I figured it would be a chance to get, hang out with my friends, and meet new people,” Satoru said. “You should come though, you never came to one of the high school ones so the least you can do is come to college ones.”
You sighed. He was right about that, but did you actually want to go to a party tonight? No, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But he and your new friend group were all going too. Sure you didn’t really like parties but, it was college, it was time to step out of your comfort zone for a bit.
You hesitated. ‘I’ll… think about it.” Satoru smiled at your words.
“Great, so I’ll take that as a yes!” Satoru said taking another sip of his drink. He gave you a lemon muffin which he had bought for you at the front of the coffee shop. Lemon was your favorite flavor, so it was cute how he got you a lemon muffin most likely not even knowing.
After you and Satoru left the cafe you went your separate ways and you dashed up your dorms staircase. You went to your dorm and asked Ayaka for help on what to wear, how to do your makeup, hair all of that. She laughed a bit
“Y/N, It’s not a dinner date, it’s a college party, you don’t have to dress up so much. Just wear a tight short dress, leave your hair down, and a little makeup.” She said laughing at your frantic state of panic.
“Why did you change your mind? I thought you didn’t want to come.” Ayaka said as she put her hair in a bun and ate her instant ramen from the cup. You sighed.
“Well I didn’t but now someone I like is going and he wanted me to come so, I’m coming.” You said looking through your wardrobe for anything somewhat cute. Unfortunately, you didn’t own any tight dresses, so the best outfit you could put together was a short top and a skirt. Ayaka did a light amount of makeup for you and did your hair as well. You looked good, and it didn’t feel like you were being a fake either.
You and Ayaka walked to the party which wasn’t too long a walk. You met up with a few other friends too. Now you were standing in front of the door, the sound of loud music playing in the room.
“Are you guys ready for our first college party?” Ayaka said excitedly as she opened the door and you all entered.
It was loud and smelled of booze, there were a lot of people and you kept bumping into people. It was pretty overwhelming. The whole time you were looking for Satoru as your friends went off to grab some drinks. You had never been drunk before and you didn’t want to start doing stuff like that now. Instead, you took a seat in the kitchen where it was more quiet and people would occasionally come in and out for the alcohol.
You sat at the kitchen table suddenly regretting coming to this god-awful place. You’d much rather be cozy at your dorm reading a book or watching a movie, but here you were trying to step out of your comfort zone and do something new for a change. You decided you should probably just head back to the dorms and let your friends have fun. Right before you were about to leave the kitchen a guy with long black hair, ear piercings, and sweats on entered. He dug around the fridge which indicated he probably lived there with some other roommates. You got up about to leave before he stopped you.
“Hey, why are you leaving so soon?” He asked not batting an eye and pouring beer into a cup. It caught you off guard. Why did he care if you left, he looked like the type of guy to have a bunch of girls waiting for him.
“Uh, it’s not really my scene.” You said with an awkward chuckle. He closed the fridge and turned around to face you. That's when you got a good look at his face and he was hot.
“Want some?” He said holding out the red cup of beer. You politely declined before he took a seat across from you. “So if it’s not your scene, why’d you come in the first place?” He said staring at you as he started sipping some of his beer. You didn’t want to tell him that it was because of a boy, so you told him the partial truth.
“Because my friends are here and I wanted to check out the party.” You said as you sat back down. “What about you? Why are you here?” You said returning his question.
“Just came for the drinks and a few friends as well.” He said gulping down the rest of his beer. A moment of science passed before you got up.
“Well, I’m gonna head out now.” You said before you felt a strong grip on your shoulder. It was his.
“Wait, I just wanted to know your name.” He said putting his red cup on the table. You told him your name and he told you his name was Suguru.
“Have a good night.” He said walking back to the pile of drinks for his next one. You left the kitchen and navigated through the noisy party. Right before you left you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. It was Satoru’s. You turned around and there he was with a red solo cup in his hand.
“I didn’t know if you’d come.” He said a little out of breath likely from chasing after you. “Here follow me, it’s too loud in here.” He muttered taking your hand and leading you somewhere. It was to the backyard where a few other people were, mostly the stoners. You two Sat down on the sofa and he smiled. “I’m glad you came, it was starting to get boring around here.” He said as he offered you his drink. You declined.
“Oh, I keep forgetting to ask you, can I have your number Y/N? It’s easier to text than DM on Instagram, you know?” He asked you. You were a little surprised but you gave it to him nonetheless.
“Great, now we can keep in contact.” He said as he smiled at you for the thousandth time that day. But that smile made you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach every time. “Uh so I stopped by a manga store after school and I got this one for you. I saw it was one of your favorite series and the latest volume just dropped. I hope you don’t already have it.” He said in a somewhat shy tone of voice as he rubbed the back of his head. You found it sweet that he had found one of your interests and bought it for you.
“No, actually I haven’t gotten the new volume, thanks!” You said giving him a small hug as you took the book. He smelled good was the main thing you noticed when you hugged him. Hugging him felt nice, and comforting. It was awkward when you stopped hugging and sat on opposite sides of the sofa. You tucked your hair behind your ear. It was clear Satoru was a little drunk but nothing too bad.
“Y/N, your confession didn’t mean nothing to me,” Satoru said suddenly breaking the silence. Confession? Right, you had almost forgotten that you had poured your feelings out to him before graduation because you thought he wasn’t coming to Kyoto, but now he’s here and it’s awkward.
Your eyes widened. “Oh.” That was all you managed to say as you locked eyes with him. You quickly looked down feeling the heat rush to your face. “Yeah about that-” He cut you off.
“And I think I like you too.”
Authors note: each chapter keeps getting longer and longer:p
5.0k words
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break me, softly
When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet
warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❤❤❤
For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.
It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door. Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing.
You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have.
You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall.
You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs…and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk.
“Jack?”
He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.
He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward.
“Hey, y/n.”
It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong.
“Are you ok?”
He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now.
You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.
“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”
He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common.
You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you.
You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.
And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours.
Oh. That’s what you’re doing.
You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.
This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience.
He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better.
You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind.
Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs.
You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push.
You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him, if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.
The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better.
“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.”
He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders.
Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart.
Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.”
He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep.
You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window.
***
But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again.
“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.”
You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning.
“I think…I knew it was you.”
He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower.
“Baby…” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”
You really should say no.
“You don’t have to.”
He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth…god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”
There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you.
You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him.
You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.
You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure.
You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time.
Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”
“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?”
He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again.
He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined.
You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you.
So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist.
He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hungry?”
“Yeah.”
You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen.
But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again.
Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours.
“Jack.”
“Yeah, baby.”
You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question.
“Yes and no.”
You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too.
“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.
“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it.
“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now.
“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep.
Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work.
You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman…died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”
Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least.
But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much.
“Y/n…?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”
Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.”
“I know…I don’t deserve it. But maybe…if you’d let me…I could make it up to you?”
You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you.
“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap.
Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.
“I love you.”
You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.
“Jack…”
“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch.
“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”
This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”
“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.
“Alright. Consider me warned.”
“Good.”
His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”
“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.
#jack traven#jack traven x you#jack traven x y/n#jack traven x reader#keanu reeves#keanu reeves x reader#speed#keanuverse#speed 1994
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I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.
'waiting around' - pietro maximoff
masterlist
When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.
He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.
Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.
Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night: what if you hadn’t been fast enough?
So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.
It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.
This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.
Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.
He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.
These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.
Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him: “Don’t take another step.”
Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.
She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.
Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”
Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”
To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.
Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”
“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.
Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”
At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”
Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”
Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”
Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”
“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”
Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”
The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”
Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”
Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”
Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”
At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”
She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.
It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.
So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.
He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.
Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.
Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”
“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”
Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”
“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”
“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.
“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.
Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”
Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.
Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.
“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”
He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”
Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”
She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”
“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.
Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”
“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”
Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”
It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.
requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!
marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff imagines#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff oneshot#quicksilver#quicksilver imagines#quicksilver x reader#quicksilver oneshot#marvel#marvel imagines#marvel x reader#marvel oneshot#mcu#mcu imagines#mcu x reader#mcu oneshot#avengers#avengers imagines#avengers x reader#avengers oneshot
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The Judo Flip Scene; The Scene that Divided the Percy Jackson Fandom: What Went Wrong?
Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”
Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she’d been carrying around since last autumn.
“If you ever leave me again,” she said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”
Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth.
“Consider me warned,” Percy said. “I missed you, too.
-Mark of Athena
This scene is one of the, if not most, controversial scenes in the entirety of Rick Riordan's books. It has caused many fans to go deep into the morality of the scene--into the question of boundaries, whether it is just a good boundaries into Percy and Annabeth's relationships or just abusive behaviour. In this post, I will talk about my opinion on, 'What went wrong?'
First, let us dissect this scene, shall we? We have Annabeth, who has lost her only proof of permanence for six months. The guy she was dreading would die for five years before she thought they had their happy ending was suddenly snatched in a time where she thought life couldn't get any better. During this time;
she saw jason falling in love with piper and was stressed that percy would be doing the same without her
she was stressed percy would never even remember her.
she canonically spent hundreds and thousands of drachmas (and probably time too) on iris messaging every monster and god she could just so that she could find him
she spent a WHOLE lot of energy on this.
she was probably advised by people in camp to find another guy, probably got these comments regularly
she was also troubled by athena's roman form to find athena parthenos statue and ditch finding percy, which must have been hard to handle
she was in charge of helping build a WHOLE WAR SHIP
she was also in charge of rebuilding the home of the gods
And you know what? It makes sense that she would have all of these emotions buried inside her. It makes sense that she would be angry, stressed, and depressed and that she would bury all of this inside. "During their separation, something had happened to Annabeth’s feelings. They’d grown painfully intense—like she’d been forced to withdraw from a life-saving medication. Now she wasn’t sure which was more excruciating—living with that horrible absence, or being with him again" Yep, homegirl was going through some stuff.
Though we don't know what his thoughts were on his point of view, from the fact that he laughs and never brings it up later, we can conclude that Rick wanted us to know that he didn't care, and that these interactions are common between both of them, though one could argue that isn't really reliable.
So; Annabeth having an outburst of emotions is a completely normal reaction, judging the amount of things she has gone through, even though it isn't the right way to express her feelings. But, why is the judo flip scene actually bad? Why did it give even percabeth shippers the ick?
The Way Rick Wrote It: Rick treated the scene as if it was funny, Annabeth was such a girly girlboss who did it to keep Percy in his place. "I only judoflip my boyfriend". And people were mad. Mad that girls are portrayed to be girlbosses by making them violent. Mad that this violence was against a guy who was implied to be abused in his childhood.
My Argument: This scene was written in a time where media with violent comedy was popular among kids (tom and jerry, oggy and the cockroaches, i see you), and that it aged badly. Another important thing: a lot of the fandom also thought of it as percabeth's most romantic moments, and hyped it up so much, which contributes towards the whole ick of the scene.
My Argument: One thing to take into account was that the romans were really on guard when the greeks arrived. they were scared it was going to be an ambush. so when annabeth judoflips percy, their nerves took over. i fully believe the humor of 'i only judoflip my bf' was just their way of diffusing a potentially dangerous situation of misunderstanding.
But in the end I do agree, the way this was written was a major disservice to the feelings that Annabeth was experiencing that time. Rick failed to portray that scene as an exhausted traumatised teenager having an unhealthy outburst of emotions, which is what it really was. Instead, he tried to make it a funny type of scene, and the fandom carried it forward by hyping the scene up as if it was one of percabeth's most romantic moments, and even though the intentions were good, he failed to convey the meaning behind what they said properly.
So now that we've answered the question this post was made for, I'd like to end this post with a positive note. I'd like to point out that in cotg, there is no moment that annabeth physically hurted (hurted is too much of an overstatement) percy if you think about it, which shows that she has improved. If you want proof, I searched any time where Annabeth teased percy physically when he said something 'stupid' and what I found was 'nudged me with her toe' and 'lightly pinched me'. So, even though Rick messed up in writing that one scene more than ten years ago, it's safe to say he has improved.
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#help does pjo essays#percy jackson#pjoedit#pjo#annabeth chase#rick riordan#percabeth#pjo fandom#heroes of olympus#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo tv series#percy x annabeth#pjo tv show#percy series#percy pjo#percy and annabeth#pjotv#cotg#annabeth#sally jackson#percyjackson#pjo series#pjo hoo toa#riordanverse#pjoverse#hoo#pro annabeth chase#percy jackson theory#grover underwood#anti percabeth
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I guess I kind of just use this account for PSAs now, and this has been on my mind a lot lately.
I figured out that I have OCD a few years ago, and recently I’ve seen a lot of bad advice around dealing with intrusive thoughts and obsessions.
There’s that post that goes around occasionally about “taking pictures of your oven knobs before you leave” or other things I’ve seen that say to “make a weird face when you lock your door.” THESE ARE COMPULSIONS. If you have/suspect you have OCD or you often struggle with things like that, please do not follow this advice. Instead, try to accept your intrusive thoughts and move on, not argue with them. Over time, they will get easier and easier to deal with. Ruminating, stressing, or arguing with them just makes them worse in the long run.
If you think you might have OCD and want to seek a specialist, the IOCDF’s home page has a lot of resources under the “find help” tab, including a locator.
I’m going to put the rest under a read-more because I’m going to talk a bit more in depth about intrusive thoughts and compulsions. This mostly because good OCD info is so sparse on line, and I’ve spent many hours compulsively researching OCD lmao.
Content warning:
discussion of unreality/doubting one’s own perception
discussion of specific compulsions
I’m not going to push this point too hard or shame anyone who doesn’t want to follow it, because OCD doesn’t really just go away. It’s a constant struggle. I give in to compulsions regularly, even though I am medicated and have seen a specialist to learn actual coping skills. It’s hard to resist sometimes and you don’t always have the energy, the awareness, or the power to ignore them. You do what you have to do to get through your day. The main difference is that the right medication and the right therapist make it easier to stay out of the spiral and to leave a spiral when you’re in one. They still happen. You still kind of have to play everything by ear.
Similarly, it is super fucking hard to get help or even get diagnosed. No regular therapist actually knows what the fuck it looks like, and specialists are few and far between and often don’t take insurance. It’s not fair or easy or necessarily productive to try and do exposure response prevention on yourself. Your “good coping skills” can even turn into an obsession or compulsion, where you’re constantly worried about what is an intrusive thought and what is not, or if you’re responding to them properly.
What I want to do is try to give at least some useful advice to people who are struggling with intrusive thoughts.
The best way to respond to them is not at all. This is especially true with OCD, because the response to them is sort of the root of this disorder. Sometimes, it’s recommended that with depression or anxiety you challenge your thoughts. In OCD, it’s the opposite. Challenging them can so easily lead you down a compulsion spiral. (More about that cycle from a professional.)
Compulsions can be entirely mental, but I’ll use a common behavioral one to look at how engaging with compulsions can go:
You start by taking a picture of the your stove knobs to make sure they’re all off. That works for a few hours or days, but then you start wondering if the knob is ever-so-slightly in the “on” position. You wonder if the picture proves they’re off enough. You forget to take the picture at all, and have to go back in to check anyways. You check your phone a few times before leaving to ensure that the picture is still there. You take several pictures because you can’t tell if you actually took any at all. You start to wonder if you can even trust what you see before your very eyes. What if you’re just imagining that the knobs are set to off? What if you’re just imagining the whole picture to begin with? The picture allows you to engage with your checking compulsion throughout the day, strengthening the connection between the intrusive thought and the urgency to do something about it. That means it gets worse. That means you find new ways to doubt your perception or your memory or whatever.
It can eventually get really bad. It’s hard and awful to try and deal with this on your own, but sometimes you have to.
It’s so shit. It’s so fucking shit how long many people suffer with mental illness without even knowing what’s going on. I didn’t know that my constant, overwhelming guilt over almost everything I’d ever thought or said or done or maybe did and couldn’t remember was the result of a disorder. It was so freeing to realize there was actually something that might help me, and I could learn to just live with myself and my weird ass thoughts that don’t necessarily mean anything at all. It’s so shit that OCD-awareness is so low among therapists. I was never going to get diagnosed until I found an OCD SPECIALIST (bold, italicized, all caps. Don’t trust people on psychology today who just put OCD in the list of what they treat.) and went over the Y-BOCS with her. It’s all so shit that several therapists I came to with textbook examples of OCD either ignored me or didn’t have the tools to help. I told one of them I “didn’t feel connected to reality” and he kind just went 🤷.
I just want everyone who is in that/a similar situation to at least have this information available to them.
If you want to learn more, these blogs from Sheppard Pratt were the best discussion of OCD I found online that really described what I was going through. They’re written by licensed therapists, several (all?) of whom live with OCD. They’re very healing to read if this is something you’re struggling with, or something you think you might be struggling with, and great in general if you want to learn more about OCD.
Whatever’s going on, OCD or not, have some grace with yourself. Take a few minutes today and do something kind for yourself, even just think one nice thing about yourself. You’re doing the best you can.
#actually ocd#ocd#ocd awareness#do with this what you will but I stresses me the hell out when I see people#uncritically reblog posts suggesting new compulsions to people#because they worked on me and made my ocd worse#im sure a lot of those suggestions came from others with ocd so I’m not trying to come after anyone about this#I just feel like I don’t see a lot of discussion about this stuff in general and even in the notes on those posts
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Do you mind sharing your headcanons/au idea of Satan Stan and eldericth god Kenny?
It would also be nice to know Kyle's in that universe
Sorry for nagging you about this, but I'm super interested in this. Feel free to ignore this ask if you don't wanna answer
honestly its kind of just scattered things from the show that i take too seriously! but here are some random little thoughts!
Kenny:
- He was born while his parents were in the cult of cthulu (canon-ish) and in H.P. Lovecraft lore Cthulu is the child of this thing called Shub-niggurath who's also known as the all mother, The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young, AND IS ALSO in the south park fractured but whole game!
Shub is the outer mythos's god of fertility. When shub has a child theyre called a "dark Young" and Cthulu is techincally one of them. A common trait the dark young share though is they cant die- theyre really creepy and murderous abominations that spill from Shubs body, or theyre born from creatures who can become pregnant and are near her. But yeah a big thing is unless by the hands of an eldrith horror THEY CANT DIE
and whats a funky little thing about Kenny?
SO Kenny is a child of the outer mythos! It would explain why Kenny never stays in either heaven or hell, because OUTER gods soulds dont belong in that realm.
Also in my silly headcanon Cthulu and Kenny are brothers because of Shub! i imagine that once Kennys lived out the life of his human half (80 years or so) he'll have a final death and then join the cosmic war :)
(the cosmic war is the on going war between the outer gods to see whether the embodiment of peace or chaos will rule the mythos.)
Shub is also a lot of things, an evil force in the cosmic war, the mother of the embodiments of good and evil, but shes a GREAT mom!
The dark young are drawn to her and she to them so she can always find them
I like to think a lot of the crazy bad things that happen in South Park happen because Kenny is there! Shubs presence causes animals to go crazy and humans would become weird because she literally embodies chaos
Stan:
- A lot less complicated haha
Stan allows Satan to use him as a vessel in the episode "Freemium isnt Free" after Satan gives him a really earnest talk about addiction and how it can be genetic and how his enviroment isnt conducive to healthy living.
When hes possessed Stan gains a lot of power and can shoot fire out of his hands (sick) and also travel through hell
I like to headcanon that stan starts to conjure Satan more often as he gets older and talk to him about his problems kind of like an older brother haha
Then randomly on their adventures Stan allows Satan to possess him to help out in fights or situations
Satan and Kenny are also bros so its chill
In this same sphere of headcanon Kyle is more towards the light side of the supernatural! I got an ask of someone pointing out that Kyle made a light bulb explode when he got mad at the end of that episode where cartman pretended to be psychic, but ill have to think more on it to include kyle!
Cartmans actually just the most evil little bastard alive, thats kinda supernatural
#my headcanons#asks#ask art#stan marsh#kenny mccormick#ALSO ALL THE ASKS IVE RECIEVED ABOUT IT ARE VERY SWEET DONT BE SORRY ANY OF YOU!
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