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#and a family that will force her to be everything she neither can nor wants to be
this-should-do · 4 months
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venting dont mind me xp ✌
#if i dont get out of my parents house im going to die#either by my hand or my mothers#i refuse to be forced into the role of woman becuz my mother cant get over herself or accept other peoples suffering#so i either leave or i die#i am never more depressed than when im in this house and it gets worse everytime i return#every second of oeace is a facade careful held up by smiles and jokes while ignoring who i am to please others#and ignorjng the genuinely genocidal beliefs of my parents against myltple peoples#at least one of which includes me#why cant life be easy#when is it .y turn to tbrive#in this hluse i am no older than a middle schooler no more mature or happy#everyday i dream of relapsing sh-ing just for some control of the pain i experiemce something anything#maybe someone will finally listen to me and se ehow ioset i am see how smothered i am and the sting will pull me back down to earth again#but no who would see would understand#my brothers or my parents none of them would kniw why even if i said it to thwir face#i dint event even want to think of what my mother woukd say#shed use it as an excuse to further deny my transness surely#say how horribke and spirtful and manipulative i am against her#that i ddi it to hurt her#i am trapped as a doll in a house only allowed to be agreeable no politics no emotions other tan#contentness and love and adoration for my family#or else i am unloveavle and horrible and sick#i cannot tell my mom she has uoset me becuz it would be unfair i am silent instead#i am to take her anger and rage as a perfect recepticle and no matter how well i handle it#i am thanked with resentment amd scorn amd terfisms#i can neither disagree woth her beliefs nor avoid discussing them to keeo the oeace all she wants is comoliance#i refuse to do that tho ill take hee scorn on that one thing i refuse to xomprimise my beliefs verbally to save my own skin#ill just be quiet#im sure id be a better recepticle for her dead so she can dress me up as a girl one last time#the dead cant argue or disagree with you its everything she wants from me
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milksnake-tea · 26 days
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━━ say you still dare to dream .
Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.
sunday x gn!reader
contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest
word count: 1.5k
a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies
taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina
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“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.
A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.
Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.
She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.
You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.
“I understand.”
Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.
“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”
You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.
But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.
You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.
Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.
There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.
The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.
Oh, how far he has fallen.
Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.
Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.
He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.
“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.
Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.
Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.
Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.
“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.
Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.
“Why have you come?”
Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.
“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”
He exhales.
“You should leave.”
“I won’t.”
His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.
“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”
“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”
His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.
“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”
Your answer is simple. “To free you.”
Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.
“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.
You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”
“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”
Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”
“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”
For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.
“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.
Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”
“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”
For you, who loved humanity so deeply.
“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”
He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.
“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”
“What is there to understand?”
“This is unreasonable,” he starts.
“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”
His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”
“You are a man worth saving.”
Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.
Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.
“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”
“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”
“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”
Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.
“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”
For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.
You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.
Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.
“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.
You smile softly.
“Anywhere you desire.”
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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luveline · 1 year
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If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.
thank u for ur request! fem!reader
Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white. 
"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?" 
Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says. 
Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?" 
"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern. 
Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through. 
"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?" 
"Spencer!" 
Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?" 
"I miss you so much." 
Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?" 
Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks. 
"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!" 
"I can tell." 
"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin. 
Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation. 
"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.
Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated. 
He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic." 
"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.
"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?" 
"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too." 
"She's making toast or something." 
"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas." 
"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear." 
Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.
"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache." 
"It makes me miss you," you whine. 
He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?" 
"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to." 
"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's." 
"Exactly!" 
You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of. 
A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks. 
Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great." 
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norrizzandpia · 9 months
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reader finding out that lando only pursued her bc one of his pr team told him to date somebody of her caliber
I love these kinds of tropes
One-Sided Fake Dating (LN4)
Summary: When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?
Warnings: angst, language, sexual references, i build this couple up just have them come crashing down, this one’s rough but all my posts are so its ok, family trauma, me being cliche when it comes to making up fake rich last names sorry sue me
Note: it’s a sad ending but AS WE ALL KNOW i cant take those so there will most likely be a part two lmk if yall want to see that
Part 2 link
She hated these things. Galas where men approached her for the last name written on her birth certificate and women fawned over her dress in order to become one step closer to the opportunities only she held access to. A drink in her hand, the little droplets leaking onto the ring adorning her finger, her eyes gazed upon attendees of the party her father had thrown. Men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothing, a rotten feeling manifested in her stomach. It was indescribably cold, something that settled within her and was a stark reminder that, in a room full of people ready to wait on her hand and foot, she was alone. Neither her father nor mother could make her feel any semblance of warmth, not when they exploited the image she had perfectly curated over the span of her life. The perfect, girl-next-door persona had been all she was destined for when she was birthed into the hands of Nick and Amy Winchester, two heirs to two successful oil businesses. Neither of them had truly made the effort to make her feel as though she was destined for more, other than a pawn in their Public Relations game.
She stared at them shortly, studying their faces and the way they moved about the room, wondering whether she had ever truly known them. Her parents were an anomaly, filthy rich and happy as ever. Although, no one ever knew what went on behind doors.
“Y/n Winchester, how lucky I am to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so many great things.” A voice startled her from her deep mind, turning it back on to the mission at hand, putting on a front that she had everything she ever wanted.
Turning around, her gaze found that of Lando Norris, a man her parents had never shut up about, having been friends with his father and loving the way he so seamlessly fell into what they had always wanted her to be, but she never quite came close. This man was the image of the self-inadequacy she had been forced to feel from the moment she could slightly understand the concept. She despised him.
The fake smile she had flaunted for years graced her face, “Lando Norris, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”
He extended his hand to her, her fingers falling onto the bed of his as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm. The warm pressure spread up her arm and down her body as they held each other’s eyes. Something about the deep greenness of his made her want to know more, made the hatred and envy she had held for him diminish.
“I have to say you’re even more beautiful in person.” He whispered, lowering her hand but not letting go.
A tinge of red wrapped around her cheeks, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome as well.”
The entire thing felt incredibly mysterious. The way he cradled her hand; the way his eyes pierced hers; the way he was so intoxicating and the way she didn’t know why. She wanted more, wanted to know more.
Drowning in the confusion pertaining to her sudden change of feelings toward him, she couldn’t make out what he had been speaking about. As a result he simply stared at her with raised eyebrows, “Y/n, am I boring you already?”
She shook her head with a soft smile, “No, I’m sorry. Just got lost in thought.”
“About me?” He rubuttled quickly. So quick she couldn’t hesitate or think before she began nodding slowly. Her brain had shrunk at the hands of the smell of his cologne and all she could rely on was the years of PR training.
His eyebrows raised further, “Oh? Well, that’s a good sign considering I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked into the room.”
She choked slightly on her drink, not expecting him to be quite forward, “Sorry?”
He smiled a sinister smile, one that drew her in and made her want to run away all at once, “You’re intoxicating, Y/n.”
She cocked her head, “Is being bold your way of picking up women, Norris?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, “Being bold is my way of trying to make you fall in love with me. The women of my past are nothing like you, Winchester. I never wanted them to fall in love with me, however, with you,” He leaned in closer, “I want you all to myself.”
Pulsing between her legs told her this night would be ending very differently then she originally intended, “Is that so? I have to say, I’m not entirely opposed.”
His lips were centimeters from hers, his hot breath fanning her face, “Good because I was never going to stop until you were.”
In the light of the morning, Y/n’s mind ran wild at the consequences of what waking up in bed next to Lando Norris meant. He was known for sleeping around, for playing women and adding notches to his bedpost. Being another one of his past girls wouldn’t go over well for her image, an innocent and pure one that was meticulously portrayed so no one would see her as something inherently sexual.
However, as his arm slung over her waist, she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. Sure, she was a bit panicked for what her parents would say, but with the memories of the night before and the dull aching between her legs, she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.
Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t something she typically did, but maybe she could try just this once.
His arm rustled on her warm skin, his eyelids creaking open as he stared at her, “Morning, Y/n.”
She giggled, “Not a good morning for you, Norris?”
His teeth peaked through in a flirtatious grin, “No, Winchester. It is a very very good morning.”
She turned around, slipping out of his arms and off the bed to pull her dress back on.
“What are you doing?” He asked, a grovel in his voice that made her never want to leave the quiet oasis of his room.
She turned around with a questionable glint in her eyes, “Leaving?”
He shook his head and propped his body up on his elbow, leaning over to grab her hand softly, “No, Y/n. Stay.”
There was a pleading in his eyes, one she had never seen in the media and one she had certainly never seen throughout the time they spent together. It made her give in.
She plopped back in bed next to him, his arm fell around her shoulders and he kissed her temple, “Why are you still in clothes?”
She laughed, thinking he was joking, but his hands over the soft skin of her arms as he pulled it down made the joyous sound dwindle down.
She certainly stopped laughing when his lips started descending down her stomach.
A persistent knocking on her door had her groaning and running over, “I’m coming!”
Her hand clutched the door knob, throwing open the door of her apartment near her university's campus, before she was greeted with the sweet image of her boyfriend.
She tilted her head with a soft smile, “Lan? What are you doing here?”
He pushed through the threshold, a nice smell of roses hitting her nose as he turned around to face her in her foyer.
“What’s with the flowers?” She questioned as he just stood there with an innocent smile.
He walked closer, planting a short kiss on her lips before whispering, “Happy three months.”
He held the flowers in between their bodies, continuing to grin at her as the occasion dawned on her.
She wrapped him in a hug, taking the red plant from his hands and kissing his cheek aggressively, “You are so cute! Thank you!”
He followed her further into the apartment as she went to the kitchen to put them in water. Questions flew from her lips, “How’d you know? Were you keeping track? You didn’t do this for our one month or two? Also, I thought we agreed to only celebrate the big ones like six months or a year? Was I supposed to get you something? Oh shit, Lan, I didn’t get you something.”
He giggled at her and shook his head, slithering his arms around her waist and pulling her into him when she was done with the flowers, “No, love, I just got a Snapchat memory that informed me it was three months ago today I asked you to be my girlfriend. I was going to ignore it, but I thought against it when I remembered how lucky I am to have you. I thought I’d just remind you of that.”
She blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’re sweet.”
“Only for you.” He murmured as she closed the gap between their lips.
At first, Y/n was a bit hesitant with Lando. With his past with women, sleeping around and never holding a commitment, she wondered if he would treat her a priority. Although, she was pleasantly surprised when he started speaking to her, treating her better than any of her ex’s. He was kind and gentle, compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and loving. He was everything and she was beginning to think he was her everything.
They continued kissing in her kitchen before she was reminded of the homework splayed out on the desk in her room, stress riddling her body once more. Lando clocked the tension, letting his hands rub up and down her back soothingly before softly speaking, “You okay, love?”
She tried to nod, but shook her head instead, her face pressing into his chest as she huffed, “No, I’m so stressed.”
Lando frowned, “Why? What’s going on?”
She led him to her room, his hand clutched in hers as she dragged him. When they reached her door, she opened it and he found a messy room drowning in papers and textbooks. The sight of it let alone made him panic.
“Christ,” He murmured. His hand squeezed hers in support as the two stared upon the mess.
Her voice became wobbly as she spoke, “I have so many assignments due and my room is a fucking shit show. I can’t think when it’s like this. It just adds to my stress. I don’t know what to do, Lando. I don’t have time to clean my room, I don’t have time to eat, I don’t have time to sleep. I’m fucking drowning.”
She choked up as her words felt suffocating. Lando was quick to pull her back into him, shushing her and caressing the hair on her head as she sniffled into his shirt. He led her to her bed, sitting her down and letting her lean on him, emotionally and physically. When she calmed down, he whispered into her hair, his lips having kissed multiple times there, “How about you sit at your desk, do what you can of your assignments, and I clean your room. I’ll make it spotless that way you don’t have to worry about it and then I’ll make some dinner, yeah? I can order in from your favorite place or I can make it myself. Whatever you want, baby. But, when your room is clean and the food is ready, you will give yourself a break. Trust me, laying with me on the couch and watching movies before going to bed at a reasonable hour will help you tomorrow so you can get more things done. You will get through this.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes, “You’d clean my room for me?”
He chuckled, hands cradling her face, “Of course, love. I’d do a lot more for you.”
🏎️
Four hours later, Lando had cleaned her entire apartment, ordered her favorite meal from a diner down the street, and plated it on the countertop of her kitchen. He was pleased with himself when he walked into her room, lightly pulled her earphone out and led her back into the kitchen where her face lit up at what he had done. Falling into his arms, she mumbled quick praises of gratitude into his neck, kissing at the skin as a thank you.
The wrinkles in her forehead had loosened by the time they made it to the couch, his legs kicked up as she sprawled out on him. There was quiet conversation of what they would watch before settling on The Holiday, a movie Y/n had loved since the moment she watched it when she was twelve.
As much as she loved it, however, she fell asleep twenty minutes in. Soft intakes of breath alerted Lando of the sleeping girl on him and he decided to stay there. He watched the movie all the way through, scratching her back softly throughout the entire thing. She moved a bit, but never away from him, always closer to him and his heart warmed every time.
When he laid her down in her bed and she whispered for him to stay, there was no argument in his mind. He stayed and he was beginning to think he always would.
“What’s your biggest fear?” Lando said into the darkness of the night as they sat in his car.
Y/n thought it over, knowing exactly what it was, but deciding if spilling that to him was appropriate in a five month relationship.
“Spiders.” She replied, fear taking over and forcing her out of what she truly wanted to say.
Lando looked over at her blankly, “What’s your biggest fear, Y/n?”
She laughed, “Spiders, Lan.”
He shook his head, “Tell me the truth, love.”
She exhaled a breath and began, “Going my entire life without making my parents proud.”
Her sentence hung in the air, her words hitting him as he searched for clarification, “You have made them proud, Y/n.”
She scoffed and shook her head as the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping into hers spread throughout her body in a grave reminder that he was there for her, “No, they have never looked at me long enough to see what I’ve tried to achieve and what I have achieved.”
His eyes bore into the side of her face as he listened intently, “No one knows that my parents are not who they portray themselves to be. Sure, they’re in love and they have fun times together, but they never wanted me. I know that, they know that, the staff, and the people they’ve employed to keep our image know that. They had me out of obligation, out of pressure from the outside world to have a child after they got married. I know they never wanted children, they’ve both said it to me before. From the moment I was born, I was not seen as a human or a baby who needed nurturing, I was seen as an object that could warmly slip into the narrative of their lives and compliment the rumors surrounding them. I was never meant to be anything else than their public pride and joy. Privately, I have never meant anything.”
Lando’s fingers grazed over the skin of her cheek, wiping a tear she hadn’t realized was there. He turned her face to his, forcing her eyes to see the love that ran deep for her, and stated so forcefully, “You are so much more than that.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say to something that had never been reaffirmed in her entire life, and waited for him to continue.
“For them to disregard you that way shows how shallow they are. It has nothing to do with you. You are not nothing. You should’ve never been exploited and made to feel as though you served someone else. You are wanted. I want you, Y/n. That means something. I know it does because I love you and I want you.” He finished, wiping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.
In a broken whisper, “You love me?”
He smiled at her, leaning in and letting his lips rest just beside hers, “From the moment I met you.”
The words brought life back into her body as she softly giggled through the wetness on her cheeks, “I thought you were trying to make me fall in love with you. Didn’t think the plan was for you to fall in love with me too.”
It wasn’t, he thought.
He kissed her, “It’s hard not to fall in love with someone like you. You are my everything, Y/n.”
Right there. His last sentence echoed what had been repeating in her head for months. A person who loved her just as much as she loved them, what a sight.
“I love you too, you know.” She said, loving the way he continued to wipe residual tears and whisper soft words that contradicted the idea engrained in her head that she wasn’t meant for great things, that she wasn’t intelligent or a force to be reckoned with. Single-handedly, unknowingly, Lando changed her narrative and the idea that, once her parents were gone, she was useless.
He nodded, “I know. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
He wouldn’t, that was the truth. What this relationship was built on, though? He couldn’t bear to utter the words.
Lies.
Galas. Something she used to hate, but, with Lando’s hand on her thigh and his jokes in her ear, she began to find fun in them.
“Don’t you think that woman’s dress makes her look like a flamingo?” Lando lowly whispered as he discreetly pointed to someone across the room that had a light pink dress on, ruffled with feathers.
His comparison was spot on and Y/n had to stop herself from snorting out her drink, “Lando! Stop!”
She giggled and he leaned into her, the two a picture of young love. There were others sitting beside them at the table, drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses and observing the famous couple. In the six months they had been together, the public had not ceased to stop talking about the two. Lando had skyrocketed to worldwide fame, larger than what he had possessed before. Y/n being the internet’s it girl, heiress to billion-dollar oil companies and a young woman who had everything everybody else wanted, forced Lando into a large spotlight. There was traction surrounding his name and because of his connection to her, his companies, his career saw an increase in brand deals, income essentially. By just being her boyfriend, everything tied to Lando had exponentially grown. McLaren included. It was everything they had expected.
A little too much wine in one of Lando’s coworkers was dangerous as he blabbered out, “I’m surprised you two are still together!”
There were a few knowing chuckles around the table as everyone eyed each other. Lando gave him a fixed glare, dark and challenging as he tried to plead with the drunk man to stop talking.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in, “What do you mean?”
The man threw his hands up as he leaned back in his chair, “Just with the way you two got together, I didn’t think Lando would stick around for this long.”
“Y/n, let’s go.” Lando stood abruptly from the table, his hand in hers as he tried to pull her from the situation.
Y/n shook her head as all eyes stared at her, “No, Lando, what’s he talking about?”
Lando pleaded with her, “Y/n, listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Please. Come with me. Let’s leave.”
She was stuck, wanting to pry into the man’s mind, but seeing the way Lando was begging her to comply.
However, at the end of the day, she was a curious individual.
“Sorry,” She stuck her hand out to smooth down the table cloth, “Can you please elaborate?”
“Y/n-” Lando started, but she just shook her head.
His mind raced as reality dawned on him and the moment where he lost her came to fruition.
Wine sloshed out of his glass as the man drank the last sip before he began, “Lando started dating you because of your last name.”
There was a lingering smile on her lips from previously wanting to keep a happy demeanor at the Gala, but the moment the sentence fell from his lips, it gradually faded.
Lando sat back down beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm, the other on her thigh, and squeezed harshly.
“Y/n, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
The man scoffed, “What are you talking about?! I was there! I was the one who suggested you approach her. I was the one who laid out what would happen to your career if you dated Y/n Winchester. Come on, Lando, don’t be a liar.”
Her heart beat slowly as she scanned the table, the others still sipping on their glasses as they watched the scene play out. Their expressions, lacking shock, made her realize that every person sitting before her knew that Lando’s love for her was a joke. Everyone, but her.
Her head gradually turned to the side, capturing Lando’s eyes with hers. There was still pleading within them, but, this time, he was pleading for her to still love him, for her to not leave him.
To hell with him, she thought.
“Is this true?” She asked, her tone cold and distant as she ripped her arm and leg from his grasp.
He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face in anxiety, “No, well, kind of. Yes, but- Y/n,” He shot up from his chair as she made a move to leave.
She grabbed her purse which was hung over the back of her chair, her legs making quick strides toward the exit. Lando, being taller than her, walked quickly beside her, spewing out words that now meant nothing to her.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He choked out. She didn’t have to look to know he was crying, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was half drunk the night we got together, so were you. I always thought you were gorgeous. What I’m trying to say, fuck, is that it was never truly fake for me. You did mean something to me. You mean something to me. Y/n, are you listening to me?”
She threw open the doors to the party, letting the cool air coat the cold blood running through her veins, and whipped around aggressively to face him.
“Did you mean it when you said it?” She yelled, strong front trying desperately to stay up as she crumbled to pieces on the inside.
Lando shook his head in confusion, “When I said what?”
She stopped her foot on the ground, heel threatening to snap under the force, “When you said you loved me! When you said I meant everything to you! When you said I had purpose! Did you mean it?!”
She screamed at him and he stepped closer, but she put a hand up, “Don’t fucking come near me.”
Lando stood helplessly, “Yes, of course, I meant it. Y/n, everything was real for me.”
She cocked her head, “Was it? When did it stop being a ploy for my last name?”
Lando let his head fall to look at the ground, “The morning after we slept together.”
She groaned loudly, tears now falling freely from her cheeks, “Oh! How sweet! So, after you had sex with me, you started truly feeling something for me. If that’s even fucking true. You know, Lando,” She willed his eyes to keep her stare as she yelled, “You’re no better than everybody in there. I told you how I’ve never had anybody be in my life without wanting what comes with having a name like mine. I told you, I confided in you, how much it hurt for a ten word name to mean more than the feelings I have, to mean more than who I am as a person. You’re no better than my father, my mother, and everybody else who has exploited me in the past. Actually!” She continued, not caring that Lando was wiping tears off his face with his white button up, “Actually, you’re worse than all of them. At least, they were obvious with wanting me for the things I could give them. You made me think you loved me. You made me think that you fell in love with me for who I am. You made me think that I was finally being seen as a human being.”
Lando shot back, “I do love you, don’t fucking fight that. Don’t question that. I sure as fuck fell in love with you for who you are and I see you as who you are. Your last name doesn’t mean shit to me, Y/n.”
She hit his chest with her hand, “But, it did! It did, Lando, and that makes this fucking tainted! You’re just like them! You’re just like-”
She broke down into sobs, crying pathetically into his arms as he tried to coax her. The sound of betrayal was evident in the way she cried, a different kind to the one he heard before when her parents dismissed her or someone tried gaining something from her. This betrayal cut deep because of the love that clutched her heart and refused to let go even in the wake of what he had done. This betrayal ruined any semblance of trust she had with the world, demolishing it for anyone that tried to do what he attempted; to love her.
A moment went by, Y/n gathering herself and realizing she laid in the arms of someone she no longer trusted, and she forcefully backed herself away from him. Wiping her tears with his suit jacket, the one a bit too big for her because it was tailored to his frame and the one he had given her earlier in the night when she had grown cold, Y/n stopped meeting his eye.
“Delete my number from your phone. Never fucking talk to me again. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.” She murmured, turning around and trying to walk down the dark street before Lando reached out to grab her arm.
When he forced her to turn around, his eyes were bloodshot and begging for forgiveness, begging for her, “Y/n, I love you. Please. Please.”
Still, she couldn’t meet his eye, softly and defeatedly whispering, “I will never be able to figure out if you love me for me or love me for what I can give to you. That is why this will never work. That is why you need to let go of my arm and let me go back to my apartment without you. That is why you need to let me go.”
He kept a hold on her arm and on the life he wanted them to have together, “Y/n, I can show you. I can show you how much you mean to me. Please, just give me another chance.”
She shook her head, “Goddamnit, Lando! Let fucking go of me! This is ruined! It will never be the same! You have done the worst possible thing. You have hurt me in the worst possible way. You have treated me the way everyone else has. I am not something you can use because you are greedy.”
He nodded his head intently, “I know. I know that. I always have.”
Fed up and emotionally distraught, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and no longer did he reach out for her when her last parting words were, “No, you always haven’t. If you always had, you would’ve never approached me and we would’ve never found ourselves here.”
A/N: part 2?
UPDATE: part 2 posted
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cressidagrey · 3 months
Text
Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 8
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.
Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.
Warnings: Panic attacks, Nyx being adorable...
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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Terror was clawing its way up her chest. Her heart…her whole body. 
And Eira was frozen in place, unable to move…unable to do anything…unable to…
They had appeared out of nowhere. Winnowing right in front of her, wearing these violently dark uniforms, knives and swords strapped to their forms. 
Not Illyrian fighting leathers. She had gotten used to these over the years. In a way, they had even become safe to her. Illyrian Fighting leathers reminded her of a male with dark bat-like wings, green eyes and the gentlest, scarred hands one could imagine. 
These…these were different. 
The shadows had screamed at her to run. 
So she had. She had clutched Nyx to herself, had lifted him out of that swing and had fled, knowing that she had no chance…
And then…then… screaming and terror…something inside her had given way. 
She didn’t know what. 
She didn’t know how. 
She just knew that when the first male grasped her arm…He only had time for one scream, before dropping to the floor…lightning crackled from her skin to him, forcing him down to his knees, Nyx screaming in her arms…
Number 2 had gotten the knife into her, the pain blooming with a sudden stab as the shadows managed to pull him back…
She had known then that that knife was going to be her death…
And then the magic had lashed out as she had gone down, shielding Nyx between her own body and the ground, the pain sparking inside her and making everything…everything growing hazy. 
The magic had taken over…
The lightning had snapped out from high heavens, hitting numbers three and four…and their screams…horrific …they were burned into her brain. 
*Eira. Eira, listen to me.* She knew that voice. 
She knew that voice. But Rhysand didn’t talk to her like that. Not that gently…not that worriedly. Not…like that. 
Mostly she just annoyed him. 
*It’s only a memory, nobody can hurt you,* he insisted. 
He was lying. Everything hurt. Everything was…
*Wake up.* He dragged her right out of it, back to…back to something else, back to…back to reality, back to her life, back to…
She woke up. 
And then the reality of the situation hit her and she vomited over the bedside, her chest caving in with her sobs.
She had killed three people. 
She had killed them. 
Not even on purpose, she had just wanted to get away, get Nyx safe…but she had killed them. With nary a thought…felled them with magic, with lightning that had crackled from her very fingertips, burnt them to a crisp like they were a piece of meat, not even a human being with friends and family and feelings…she had…
She had killed them. 
Nyx. Where was Nyx? 
“Nyx is fine. Not a scratch on him. Thanks to you,” Rhysand’s voice came again and she was still retching, still feeling bile rise in her throat…even when she felt the cool midnight darkness of his magic, felt him clean up the vomit with nary a thought…
She smelled snow and ice and lilac and pear and her eyes weakly lifted to find Nesta…her sister, reaching out for her, hovering, not daring to touch her. 
The tears came, a hysterical sob building in her throat. 
“I killed them,” Eira choked out. “I killed them.” She had ended 3 lives. She had murdered them, ended their lives, she had…
“You’re alright, it’s alright, Eira,” Feyre’s voice reached her, her sister’s soft hands, gently cradling her head, pulling her back to lay down properly, enveloping her in her arms. 
“I killed them. I killed them,” she whimpered, repeating the words, again and again and again. She had killed them. 
She hadn’t wanted to kill them. She had just wanted…she had just wanted…
“I know. I know you did,” Feyre whispered soothingly. “It’s alright.”
“You did what you had to,” Nesta said quietly, a warm hand rubbing her back as she clung to Feyre, clung to her little sister as tightly as she could, her hands fisting in Feyre’s shirt. “You saved Nyx’s life, you saved your own life, Eira. You did what you had to. Nobody is faulting you for that.”
She had killed them. 
“I didn’t want to kill them,” she choked out weakly, the sobs building in her chest so strongly, so harshly…
She hadn’t wanted to kill the. She had never wanted to kill anybody. She despised violence. She had never wanted to be in a position where she needed that. The war against Hybern had turned her stomach in more ways than one and she couldn’t…
“I know. I know,” Feyre promised her, as Eira’s tears wet her shirt, scalding against her skin. Eira couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop sobbing…the grief overcoming her. 
Grief for them and grief for herself. 
“I killed them!” she wailed, the noise bursting out of her throat, so harshly, so shocking, her whole body shaking.  
She could hear a growl, that just made her heart start racing in her chest, everything suddenly even more terrifying, suddenly, too much, too…
“Shhh, you need to breathe,” Nesta whispered.  But she couldn’t. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. 
“That won’t help,” Rhys said quietly, his voice sounding far, far away…“She’s hysterical.”
*Eira,* his voice in her head but she couldn’t listen. *Eira. Listen to me.*
She couldn’t. 
She heard more voices but no words, and then…“Just three drops under her tongue…it should take away the worst.”
She didn’t know what it was…what kind of bitter-tasting liquid Feyre forced into her mouth…
Just that suddenly…Everything grew hazy around the edges. Unfocused. Fear blunted, everything blunted…her emotions far, far away from her…her sobbing far removed, as she weakly clung to her sister, thick, heady tiredness enveloping her. 
“There we go,” the same voice said softly. 
“Feyre?” her voice was thick in her mouth, not listening to her. 
“I am sorry,” Feyre apologised, her voice tearful and Eira struggled to open her eyes, failing. “I am here. It’s alright.”
“I am sorry,” she mumbled out. “I couldn’t protect Nyx. I tried.”
A soft gasp from Feyre, then…“You protected him. You protected him,” she promised her fiercely. 
She had? 
A shudder came over her body and she shivered, a whimper leaving her mouth. 
Suddenly she felt the brush of these shadows again at her wrist, a thick blanket being dragging over her form…it was…
“Just rest. It’s alright,” Nesta soothed her. “Just sleep. It’s alright.”
She wasn’t sure how long she slept…how long she slid back into the darkness that was welcoming and sweet and safe and sound, and everything that being awake wasn’t…
Eira blinked open her eyes again, to her room that was filled with sunlight. 
Tears still bit in the corners of her eyes. Especially when she found her sister sitting next to her quietly, holding her hand and staring out of the window. 
“Nesta?” her voice was rough with disuse and Nesta’s eyes immediately snapped to her. 
“How are you feeling?” Nesta asked immediately and she blinked back the tears, not wanting…not wanting Nesta to tell her that all of this was ridiculous and that Eira shouldn’t behave like a child. 
She already had done that, hadn’t she? When she had hysterically cried over everybody about her killing…
She forced herself not to think about this, because even just that made tears appear in her eyes. 
“Breathing hurts,” she said instead, a hand pressing against her ribs and hissing at the contact. 
Was that were…
“Madja left you a tincture against it. It will probably hurt for a few more days…the knife was poisoned,” Nesta answered gently. Gently? Nesta never was gentle. 
Some things just didn’t go together. Like her oldest sister talking to her gently. Nesta was forceful and blunt and not…gentle. 
The door opened and her head snapped around, tears immediately running over her face as she saw the little boy on her sister’s hips, wings fluttering excitedly. 
“Ra Ra!” he cheered. 
Not a scratch on him. Nothing. 
Unharmed. Not hurt, not…
Feyre brought him over, Nyx already holding out his hands for her and then throwing his arms around her neck as she breathed in that sweet scent of childhood that clung to him, closing her eyes as the tears leaked from them. 
“Oh Nyx,” she whispered, one hand coming up to curl into the shirt she had made for him, embroidered across the hem with little moons and stars…
“He was inconsolable,” Feyre said softly. “When you were…unconscious. He was so worried,” she said softly, a hand gently carding through her son’s thick midnight hair, and then reaching out to wipe away the tears from Eira’s face, as she buried her face against Nyx’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“She says that breathing hurts,” Nesta reported.
“Madja left you something to take against that,” Feyre said quickly. But it was Azriel’s shadows that brought over a little potion bottle and tipped it against her lips so all she needed to do was to swallow as they poured it into her mouth. 
“Thank you,” she said weakly as they pulled back, the bitter taste a small price to pay for the relief against the burning pain that she felt near her heart. 
She caught the look her sisters exchanged and she couldn’t help but feel protective. 
“What?” she asked, wishing she could cross her arms but instead just able to press a kiss to Nyx’s brow, as he settled comfortably to cuddle with her. 
“Nothing,” Feyre said quickly. 
“Just…Since when do you have Azriel’s shadows doting on you?” Nesta asked, making a face that…
Feyre pulled a grimace. Probably about Eira leaving Azriel in peace. 
Eira was going to do that. But she couldn’t help it if his shadows wanted to hang out with her.  
“They came a few days ago. They are lovely. And they don’t dote on me,” she corrected Nesta quietly. “They just like to keep me company.”
“We…need to have a talk, Eira,” Feyre said quietly. 
She swallowed. She could just imagine what that talk would consist of. She didn’t want to have this talk. She didn’t want to…But she probably deserved it. Deserved whatever Feyre wanted to throw at her head. Whatever her sister had to tell her…
“I am so sorry,” Eira blurted out. 
Nesta stared at her like she had gone insane. 
“What? Why?” she demanded. 
“I shouldn’t have taken Nyx to that playground. And I should have been more careful and if you never want me to…” Feyre interrupted her before Eira could continue that tirade. 
She could understand if her sister didn’t trust her to watch Nyx anymore. It would break her heart, but she could understand it. She was supposed to protect him and she had failed. 
“You asked me if you could take him to that playground, Eira. I gave you permission,” Feyre cut her off. “None of this is your fault. Keir sent them to…to hurt Nyx. You did nothing wrong, Eira. Nothing at all,” her sister assured her with wide blue eyes. 
It just made her feel worse. “I should have…” she tried another feeble protest. She should have…
“What else could you have done, what you didn’t do?” Feyre challenged her sharply.  “You protected him, you took a knife to your heart so that he would be safe, Eira. What else could I possibly ask of you?” her sister demanded. “You did everything perfectly.”
And she had killed three men. 
It was still there, in the forefront of her mind. Always. 
“When you were unconscious…” Feyre said quietly, trailing off…”Rhys tried to take your pain away from you. It’s a skill he has since he’s a daemati. But he…he wasn’t careful enough and your mental shields were nonexistent…He got dragged into your memories.”
“What?” she breathed out, tears immediately burning in her eyes, just as embarrassment and shame burned into her chest. 
What had he seen? 
Had he seen…had he seen her fledgling little feelings for…Had he seen that? Something she wished she could protect with her life so that nobody was ever going to use that to tease her? 
She knew she had no chance, she didn’t need her sister's mate to tell her that either. She didn’t need him to know about any of this…couldn’t she at least have that? 
It was embarrassing enough without anybody knowing the full extent of it…without anybody knowing all the embarrassing little daydreams she had about him. 
“He’s really sorry,” Feyre said with a grimace. “He’ll tell you that himself, but we thought it was best not to overwhelm you…”
There was nothing she could do against it anymore, was it? It was done. Rhys probably had had a front-row seat to every single embarrassing and childish little daydream she had had about his brother and Eira was never going to be able to look him in the face again. 
She could probably expect another intervention, after Feyre’s and Elain’s. Just that this time it would be High Lord shaped and he would probably threaten her to leave his spymaster in peace otherwise she would also be shipped off to the House of Wind or something. 
“It’s fine,” she said weakly, instead. It wasn’t. But what else was she supposed to say? 
What else…
“It’s not his fault. He just wanted to help,” she tacked on to the end of it…and then, with a sudden realization… ”Where’s Elain?” she asked, staring at Nesta and Feyre who exchanged another look that she couldn’t read. What was going on?
“In Day Court with Lucien,” Feyre answered quickly. “That’s also something we would like to talk to you about.”
“What, why? Is she alright?” Eira demanded. Was it wedding stuff? Had something happened? 
If something happened, Elain was going to have a meltdown. Or rather another one. Another one that was going to make her get huffy about lilies look like children's play.  
“She’s…She’s fine,” Nesta said, her tone clipped. “It’s…complicated.”
“What’s complicated?” Eira asked sharply. Nyx whimpered against her, and she dropped her voice. “What happened?”
“When Rhys saw your memories,” Feyre said carefully. “He saw…how horrible everybody has been treating you,” she said in a whisper, staring at Eira with tearful eyes. 
“What?”  How who had been treating her…what exactly did Rhys see? 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nesta asked sharply.
“Say what?” Eira asked, not understanding what they meant. What was there problem? What has she done? 
“Why didn’t you tell us how you were feeling, Eira?” Feyre repeated, her voice soft…coaxing. “Why didn’t you tell me what…Why didn’t you tell me how horrible everybody was treating you? Why did you just suffer that all in silence? I am so sorry.”
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muffinsin · 24 days
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Hi, I'm sort of new to your blog and I really love your writing. And since I'm going through a crocodilian phase, I was wondering if you could write one of the daughters with a, sort of half lycan reader but, instead of a wolf they're a crocodilian. And I'm pretty sure crocodilians are bigger and stronger than wolves, so maybe in their lycan form their just massive.
This is my first time requesting like, anything ever so I'm really sorry if I got anything wrong in my ask.
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Hi! That’s a really cool ask! :) I’m happy I finally get to tend to it!🙌 Let’s get into it :)
Masterlists
Bela
She’s out hunting when she encounters you the first time
Originally hoping to go for a deer, she picks up your scent instead
And oh my..what a scent indeed
Nothing she has ever smelled before
She’s pulled in the moment she picks it off the air
Before you, she has never quite encountered crocodiles
Even the very few genetically modified ones found near the village are never quite within the castle grounds
This makes you the first to carry such a scent, at least to Bela
She rushes past trees and bushes, dodges branches and swarms past countless scurrying deers and squirrels, even a pack of Lycans is scared off by her presence
Being in a rush is certainly unusual for the collected eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu
And yet…
There is just something about your scent. Something strange. Something new
In time, she finds you, a large creature hiding away a human form she is not yet aware of
You’re by a small pond, washing what seems to be a large paw. But despite your varcolac-like shape, you sport no fur
Instead, Bela spots…scales? Could that be?
Your skin looks hard and dark, scale-like
You look like nothing she has seen before, for even your scales look tougher and stronger, thicker and more resistant than those of any fish she has seen around the castle and village
What are you?
She nears herself slowly, her sickle at the ready
She doesn’t look for a confrontation, really, aware she is neither as fast as Daniela, nor as strong as Cassandra
Still, her mind already scans your body for weak points where her sickle and sharp nails could dig in
Briefly, she thinks, bringing you home would earn her a lot of praise from her family. But, you’re so rare
It would be a pity to eat you
Soon enough you take notice of her and turn to her
She spots the sharp teeth in your mouth immediately, white and pointed, sharp as small blades
She doesn’t doubt you could take your preys arms between them if you tried
Yet still, when you do attack, she finds you to be exciting prey
Of course, due to the warm weather you stand little chance, but your tough skin provides you cover still
At last, Bela finds the weak spot she’s had in mind, the little bit of softer skin at your stomach, and drives her clawed fingers in. Not enough to kill, merely enough to force you out of this fight
When you flee and she inevitably catches up to you, it takes no time for her to drag you back to the castle, despite your size
Inside, you’re shown off and pawed at, before ultimately being brought to Bela’s room
This marks the day you become hers, in a way
She feeds you and tends to your wounds. Silently, she’s thankful you seem to be a fast learner even for a creature and refrain from attacking the hand that feeds and tends to you
The real surprise, however, comes when she awakens one day to snarls and huffs
There’s no longer the mysterious creature in the large cage by her bed. In its place is you, a creature resembling a human
She’s…surprised, but even more so, she’s intrigued
Despite the time she wants to know everything all at once, taking a notebook and noting all she can get from you
You don’t mind all that much. Your imprisonment aside, this woman has been very kind to you
You’ve learned, it isn’t that bad in the castle, even back when you were kept in a cage by her bed
You were fed and warm, had access to water and even got to go out once Bela knew to control, or maybe even trust you
It was a comfortable, but exciting life even then
And the more time Bela spends with you, the more intrigued she becomes. Not only by your beast form, but by you
It’s long now that you’ve had to sleep in the cage
Instead, you’re presented a room near her own, though often she awakens to find you curled up by the foot of her bed or the middle of her room in your other form, lazily sleeping on the carpet
Both your rooms connect to one of the larger bath halls of Castle Dimitrescu, one fitted to your needs and sporting a forest-like look by now
You sometimes find Bela’s sisters lurking in there, but otherwise it is all yours to slumber in when being in your transformed state
She helps you find out more about yourself, exploring your body with you and giving you the opportunity to learn with her by your side
She’s incredibly intelligent, you find, something uncommon in the village and even the castle
You find she’s hungry to learn and enjoy the countless times she teaches you new things, too
You grow closer to Bela each day, too, and look forward to learning more from the interesting woman that rescued you from the dangerous life out by the forest
Cassandra
You aren’t entirely sure how you ended up at the castle cellars
Whether you were captured and sold off, whether you were an experiment going wrong that people had no use for, or whether you were truly unlucky enough to stumble into the wrong territory and get yourself captured
Of course, you know where you are, though. All know of the infamous Dimitrescu Family and what lies beneath the castle
And yet it still doesn’t explain how you got captured
And frankly, Cassandra doesn’t know either
But she notices you, of course
Being the sister that practically owns the dungeons, she knows all about the prisoners ending up there
Traitors, raiders, hunters, misbehaving maidens
You don’t seem familiar to her, though
And as she passes your cage the first time, she immediately notices the shimmer to your skin
Upon opening your cage, she finds herself feeling slightly surprised. You aren’t attacking her. Haven’t. Wouldn’t
You know a fight against her would not go well, you heard the stories of maidens and villagers alike
Was it her who imprisoned you? But, you sensed her surprise and suspicion
“You, pet. What are you?”, she demands, her sickle held just under your chin
You give her a shrug, able to offer her nothing but your name
This intrigues her more. A new prisoner, surprisingly none captured by her
When you suddenly groan and curl in on herself, she immediately swarms back
Were you not in so much pain, you might have commented how cute it looked, her surprised, wide eyes and her little jump that turned into a swarm of flies
Alas, you can only clutch your stomach and groan in pain, hunger gripping you like a vine
“Hungry”, you barely manage to choke out. Thankfully, the huntress underdstands
In less than a few minutes after swarming off she returns to you, a screaming, crying woman held tight by the collar off her rag-like clothing
You can’t bring yourself to feel mercy when she’s thrown into your cell, hunger turning and forcing your hand
Cassandra watches as your skin turns to more scales
Sharp teeth replace human ones, quietly, she thinks of taking one to make a necklace of it
Then though, you take her by surprise
When you bite down on the crying woman’s arm, you neither claw at her nor bite chunks out, as she would expect from lycans and moroaica
Instead, you turn, over and over, so fast she can barely keep up
The crying woman screams as her arm is popped out of its socket, then easily ripped off at the next turn of it
Never has Cassandra enjoyed seeing a kill more
She’s immediately intrigued by you, watching as you easily twist more of your meal off before picking things off with your hands
You sport no claws, you realize, unlike her and most infected. In fact, you almost look like- what was it? A crocodile?
She had seen pictures of those, made Bela and Mother tell her stories of them
Transformed, or perhaps only halfway so, you look strikingly similar
When entering your cell, she finds you still don’t try attacking her
She spends the rest of the day with you, poking at you and lifting your arms, checking your teeth and what not. You don’t mind. It gives you something to do
You become her research project fast
Cassandra ensured you’re fed well every day, and as you prove you’re capable of behaving and listening to each of her commands, she even takes you out the basements occasionally
You’re allowed to hunt with her, something you immediately have fun with
Cassandra is…
Stunning, is one word for it
She’s the most skilled huntress you have ever encountered, outdoing even the rumors of her skill and efficiency
She finds her prey fast, and once caught up with it, defeats it even faster
You are not one for chasing with her, yet occasionally you get to teach her a thing or two about the strategic plans you’re developing
With her you find your true transformed form, a crocodile-like creature the size of a varcolac
As such, you blend in perfectly at the ponds within the castle, and while Cassandra finds it incredibly boring to simply catch fish together, she indulges you
She usually watches from a tree, snickering when fish, snakes, sometimes even silly rabbits and squirrels come near you
Once, a deer did. Again, you twisted your body fast when biting down at its leg
That day Cassandra fell from her perching spot and right into the water, having leaned forward so much in her eagerness to watch
You dried her gently with the clothing you took off before transforming, dabbing soft clothing she provided you with against her cheeks
Aside from hunting together, you like helping her out in the dungeons
You don’t nearly have the knowledge she has, but find: you enjoy your company
As she does yours
You hope, one day, you may call her more than just the woman that has saved you. You think, maybe someday you will tell her she is the woman making you feel happy, safe, strong,
Loved
Daniela
You’re a member of the staff, specifically, one serving Daniela and all her needs
Being her private maiden and in charge of keeping her room clean, bathing her, tending to her needs and such allowed you to build quite a connection with her
And, to many maidens’ surprise, she does not lay a finger on you in a harmful way
Some days, you’d confidently describe the two of you as friends, or friendly at least
On other days, her flirty touches, her bottom on your thighs when she lets herself fall on your lap and her lips at the corner of yours when she leans in for a brief kiss to your cheek have you question what kind of relation you have to her
Nevermind what you are to her, though, Daniela is important to you. Has grown to be one of the most important people in your life even, maybe
With not many among the staff you’d call your friend, Daniela has become the person you care for most
She’s kind to you, though you understand her sometimes random mood swings
She’s caring towards you, and interested in you
Never does she harm you, and you trust she never will, should you not harm her in return. Something you swear you never will
And still, she is kept in the shadows about your…condition
You don’t know how to explain your crocodilian-like state to her, how to start, even. You’re just thankful you can retreat to your chambers or even hers whenever you feel you’re close to transforming even slightly
Not laying a finger on you, Daniela is none the wiser about your unusually thick skin and the scales on your skin, safely hidden underneath your long sleeves and gloves
This changes one day, though
With the begin of winter, Lycans let out to hunt end up at the castle
Tidying up the library, you immediately rush back to Daniela’s room, where you know you’ll find her
Only is she on the ground when you do, clutching her bleeding side and holding her sickle tightly in front of her with her right hand
The previously warm air is cold with the shattered window and in front of Daniela stands one of the intruding lycans
You act fast, pulling the creature back when it’s about to lunge at her again
She’s screaming, her golden eyes set on you. She’s sure she’s about to lose you, assuming you’re a mere human trifling with creatures you ought not even cross paths with
And still, when the sharp claws come in contact with your hip, you scream, but don’t fall
You push back against the creature, your fingers digging into its fur
Before you have time to overthink exposing yourself like this, you feel yourself transform a little
Your face mutates just a little, as your jaw rips open and your teeth become sharp as blades
Your big mouth stretches around the creature’s neck, and quickly, you twist, over and over again
Daniela watches in amazement and shock, as the lycan first twitches and yowls, then stills entirely on the floor, its head separated from the rest of its body
You lift your head as you transform back, your face and chest bloodied
Shakily, you move towards Daniela
“Come on, Milady, this place is far too cold for you”
From then on you only grow closer together
Daniela shares your secret with nobody, keeping it even from her family in fear you might be taken away to be studied
Instead, it’s a secret shared only between the two of you
Talked about in hushed voices and giggles in her room, underneath the blankets
When entirely alone, she sometimes asks for another demonstration. You’re happy to indulge her, glad to be able to be in your other form more often
After batting her eyes at her mother and pulling her famous puppy eyed and lip wobbling look, Daniela is granted to take you outside with her in summer
And it’s the best feeling in the world
You need not worry about villagers or hunters with Daniela so near. You know, you have her back, and she has yours
You’re allowed to swim in lakes and even try hunting with her
At other times, you feel as though on fire when you’re relaxing just underneath the water and spot Daniela’s barely-covered body just a little away from you
It seems, she likes to try her luck as it comes to catching fish. She doesn’t eat them, but finds it fun to watch them quickly scurry away from her hands when sticking them inside the water
You sometimes chase a flock of them in her direction only to hear her excited squeals and adorable giggles
Life is good. And Daniela makes it even better
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kasagia · 8 months
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in “a powerful man” how do you think coryo would take it if the reader told him that she’d forgive him completely only if she was allowed to have an affair with another man once too, since he had one with livia? love your fic btw ❤️
Thank you veeeeeery much, dear anonymous!!! I'm so glad you liked it!! 😊😊🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵
I think this is probably the first time someone has asked me a question about one of my oneshots, so let's make this a headcon. (Also, because I have neither the inspiration nor the time to write, maybe it will stimulate me somehow and I will feel more willing to write again. And maybe I got some inspiration too.) 🙈🙈
I'm talking about this 'version' of Coryo.
How do I think Coriolanus would react to you wanting to have a 'revenge affair' as a price for your forgiveness: (with smut?)
NO. A definite and categorical no. Coryo has no intention of sharing you, even for the shortest moment, with anyone else. You are his fiancée (not willingly, but still), and he will not allow the hands of some lesser man to stain what is his,
Does he want your complete forgiveness? A return to what once was between you? A carefree relationship where you trusted him and freely showed your devotion and deep feelings? He admits that it would be nice, but he doesn't want it at that price,
Coriolanus will have you anyway. It doesn't matter whether you let him or not. You are his new obsession—the future First Lady. And after being elected president, he knows that nothing can stop him. He has the most power. Over everything, including you.
Therefore no. He disagrees.
He is ready to break you, to force you into the woman of his dreams, to subject you to thousands of manipulations, than to allow any other man to get close to you. You have no right to betray him. Never. You are committed to him for the rest of your life, and he will do anything to make sure you know that.
He will even go as far as threatening your family and loved ones (especially your younger sister, for whom you have a soft spot). Therefore, you have no choice but to play wisely in Coriolanus' game, in which you have become a forced participant.
Let's imagine you make him this offer...
"Where does this sudden surge of tenderness come from, my petal? I'm not complaining, but usually when it comes from you, it also comes with a price to pay. What do you want from me this time?" He asks you after a particularly hot, passionate, and affectionate session in his bedroom, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, lazily drawing patterns on his chest with your finger. You shrug, pressing a kiss on his jaw. He hugs you tighter, dipping his head and burying his nose in your hair. You lie there in each other's arms for a moment. You wait for his heartbeat to slow down a little and for him to relax enough for you to ask him your question. "That was nice, right?" You ask innocently, continuing to caress his chest muscles with your feathery touch. "So much so that I'm afraid of what you'll ask me after this." He jokes and presses a kiss on your temple. "Wouldn't you rather have it all the time? My voluntary affection, passion, and desire? To be adored by me not only in front of the eyes of the Capitol?" You ask, placing small kisses on his neck. You distract him for a moment. He closes his eyes and bites his buttom lip, holding back a moan as you suddenly suck on his skin. You make sure to leave a hickey there as you lightly bite his skin. You pull away, then, so you can look into his eyes. "What do you want?" He asks curiously, his hand caressing your waist and every bit of skin he can get to despite you being wrapped in the covers. "Do you remember when you cheated on me with Livia?" "It wasn't cheating; I only did it because I had to. I felt no pleasure with her. No, as I feel each time we are together like this. But continue." He interrupts you, frowning disapprovingly. He didn't want to think of it as a betrayal. More like something... business. The thing he simply had to do for his career. You shiver, feeling sick just thinking about it. "I want the same." "You want to sleep with her?" He asks amusedly with a small chuckle, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between you for a moment after your words. "Not with her. With someone else. You know. Feel the thrill of something new and exciting. Besides, it would be a perfect proof of your devotion, don't you think? I would know that you were able to rise above your pride and that I could trust you again. That we are both equal. Enough to make me fall in love with you again. Didn't you promise me that? That you will do all in your power to make me love you again?" "Oh, and I will. But I'll kill all the men in Panem before I let anyone lay a finger on what's mine. And you, petal, belong to me. You will fall in love with me again. If not of your own will, then thanks to my... nudges in the right direction. It's up to you how painful they will be." "So you don't want my forgiveness?" You ask, furious, trying to match his scowl with yours. He squeezes you tighter, making you bite your lip, holding back a hiss of pain as his fingers dig painfully into your hips and buttocks. "Not necessarily. I want you. And I got you. All to myself. What difference does it make if I have to hold your throat or your hand while I am pushing into you?" With that question, he wraps his hand around your throat and presses his mouth aggressively against yours, allowing you no resistance. You moan as your tongues intertwine, and he hovers above you again, his length pressing alive and hard against your thigh again as he grinds against you, spreading his pre-cum on your skin.
Will he admit to jealousy? Of course not. He will keep telling you that you are his. That, as his property, you must obey him; otherwise, he will ruin your scientific career and take away the research you are working on.
Another excuse is that the Capitol thinks you are the perfect couple. What happens if someone finds out you're cheating on them? Coriolanus cannot let this happen. After all, the reputations of the two of you are the most important thing to him. He won't risk it in any way. And certainly not, so you can fuck another man.
And there would also be the problem of quietly disposing of your potential lover's corpse, because there's no way Coriolanus would let someone live who had tasted his First Lady's pussy.
Let's assume this does happen and you are having an affair…
Saints, help the one who dared to sleep with you behind Coriolanus' back.
There's no way he wouldn't find out about it.
You're so followed and watched over by his men and spies that it's a wonder you managed to sleep with anyone else and even keep it a secret from him for some time.
But when he finds out... it's an understatement to say he was furious. He was crazy. But if he had learned anything, it was how to plan revenge, how to strike, and when, so that his victim would never get up and regret ever going against him and becoming an obstacle.
Of course, your lover ends up dead after many weeks of being followed (to such an extent that he went crazy, feeling constant anxiety and eyes on the back of his neck), brutal interrogation by peackeepers, charges of high treason, and a public execution preceded by dosing him with various poisons and undergoing painful experiments. (Coriolanus even personally castrated him.)
But he's not just taking revenge on your lover. You get punished too.
The peacekeepers won't let you into the lab. Your parents and sister are forcibly sent to one of the districts for 'the holidays' without being able to contact you. Dr. Gaul can't talk to you either. You are confined to your house, unable to contact anyone who is not Coriolanus.
And he waits patiently until the loneliness and inability to do anything begin to affect you.
For the first few weeks, you struggle, trying to get out. You quickly realise that you don't have this option. His most trusted people and the Avox make sure you don't leave your room. And you start going crazy. You miss conversation, touch, and another person. You even miss Coryo.
Three months of your isolation has passed when he appears in your 'prison'.
He accepts with a huge smile that you throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness. You rip off his clothes before he can even respond to your pleas and pleasure him as best as you can, just to regain any semblance of freedom he once gave you.
You spend the whole night pleasing him, but he doesn't say a word, only moaning and grunting, even as you cry, begging him to say something, as you ride him like your life depends on it (which actually isn't far from the truth).
The next day, he is not in bed in the morning.
Instead, a crowd of make-up artists, designers, and maids come to prepare you for YOUR WEDDING.
You find out that he made people in the Capitol think that your family was spending one last vacation together before you got married. And he, being a good fiancé, let you go.
You're too busy thinking about finally being free from the confines of four walls of your room to even think about what a son of a bitch he is.
And after the wedding, when you go on your 'honeymoon' and he holds you on his lap in your compartment on the train, he mocks how little it took to break you and that you have to make up to him for 3 months without you, when he had to hold back and keep control over his desires so as not to come to you too soon.
When I kiss you and gently strip you of your wedding dress, you realise how far he can actually go to get what he wants.
You decide to play by his rules. Pretend to be an obedient and loving wife. At least for now.
You will slowly regain your old life. And maybe if you play smarter and manipulate him more delicately without showing too much act of rebellion, he may become your puppet and not the other way around. After all, you both were powerful. In your own way.
And you both win and lose in different batches of this game between you two.
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It must be incredibly freeing to be without a conscience, and reinventing your victimhood when the going gets tough, which is why the tabloids (UK of course because nobody else has them) drive me mad with continually referring to the ‘royal feud’. As if it’s a tit for tat equally balanced war, and not a pair of overage toddlers, sulking stamping their feet, and grade C attention seeking as they don’t get what they want. I can, given MM obvious loathing of Catherine being everything she is not and having everything she wants being laughingly named as a racist, but I don’t understand why KC was the second transgressor (when they upped the number to two). At the moment he holds all the cards, and both short term and for longer term security it would have made much more sense to keep him out of it. It’s not like they couldn’t just have kept it at one ‘racist’ or picked on someone else in the family. Maybe I’m looking for logic in the wrong place , but given how obsessed the Sussex’s are by money and status it seems a stupid move attacking KC in that way.
Ask from August 4th
They chose Charles because of the blackmail potential. Meghan thought she could threaten Charles with naming him the racist Royal and he’d pay her or give her what she wanted in return for keeping her mouth shut.
And we know that was her plan because she told us that was her plan. In April 2023 (right as palace PR was ramping up for coronation campaigns), Meghan leaked that she had letters from Charles in which he discussed, among other things, the racist royal. (Victoria Ward, though writing for the palace-friendly Telegraph - aka occasionally the Palacegraph, is a Sussex associate.) Meghan’s leak came right after it was confirmed she wouldn’t attend the coronation.
Now it could just be a coincidence, but since 7 years of Meghan Markle has proven nothing is a coincidence when it comes to her reactions, the leak smells like someone who didn’t get invited to the coronation, who’s upset about not getting invited, and who is trying to remind the person in Charles of the damage she can do by linking him to racism to force him to give her what she wants.
And, well, we all know what happened next. The palace didn’t budge on an invite to the coronation, Archie didn’t get a royal birthday shoutout (so she made up the toast), and six months later, Meghan named Charles the second racist royal.
Neither Meghan nor Harry possess any ability to see past their own immediate want. Of course going after Charles and William (via Kate) is short-sighted. They are, after all, the one holding the purse strings to the life of luxury and security the Sussexes want. But they can’t see that, because it’s their privilege and they want it now.
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namika-saya · 2 months
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Sctir and its multiple forms of love
After finally finishing sctir. I wanted to jot down my thoughts over the multiple forms of love shown in sctir. Bc there are A Lot. Some more healthy than others. Some more incomprehensible than others. Of course, spoilers ahead.
Familial Love:
.Han siblings : The epitome and exemplary example, the Han siblings have undying support and love for each other. The special thing about the Han brothers is that they're not just brothers, they're like parent and child. Han Yoojin raised Han Yoohyun himself shortly after hyh was born, and they continued to rely and put each other first until they were forcibly parted by circumstances. The fact that hyh is the ward and hyj is the guardian immensely helps their dynamic, as even with their differences hyh will respect and listen to hyung.
.Luire siblings: They're similar to the Han brothers and yet so different, just by a switch between the roles of guardian and ward (and their power levels). Riette is a born S-class, which means that she's unable to see things normally or have human empathy. Despite loving her brother enough to die for him, she has given him immense trauma in not respecting his autonomy and forced him to do many dangerous things that is pretty much abuse. In the end, they manage to find a balance, and Riette is still trying her best to understand Noah and have him forgive her.
.Sigma & Puppeteer: They're so interesting. One was borne bc of the other. The other can't exist without the one. They're each other's ward and guardian. Sigma allowed Puppeteer to gain sentience by continually pumping mana into him, while Puppeteer's efforts keep Sigma alive and existing. They care very much for each other and would do anything for the other.
"Platonic" Love:
. Shj & Stw : even if it's never explicitly said, their dynamic is like that of an old married couple where one is tired but used to the other's shenanigans. The Moon and its Eclipse. Fated enemies, but each of their stubbornness in staying human gives them an equal ground that allows them to care and respect for each other. Stw is literally one of the only two existences that shj can ever come to love.
. Shj & Hyj : also a lovely pair with a big contrast. The ordinary and the extraordinary. One who has it all and one who has lost everything. The man at the pinnacle and the man wading through the mud on the bottom. Hyj is literally the only person that sees shj as a human (at first). It's through hyj's love and care that allows shj to love life and carve out an existence for himself, for others to care about him like a human, and for shj to finally gain autonomy over his life. Shj's love and care for hyj allows hyj to be more confident about himself, soothes his worries, and as someone he can lean on without having to act as a caretaker.
"Romantic" Love:
.Chatterbox towards Jellyfish: now we're diving into the more unsavory forms of love in sctir. Well, chatterbox is obsessed with jellyfish. Some might say that is or isn't love, and both would be correct. (I jokingly call chatterbox an incel) Chatterbox loves Jellyfish, but he is selfish. He doesn't care about anything jellyfish cares about, he only cared about having her by his side. His attempt to turn hyj into luka peigya is disgusting, attempting to even modify his body surgically and put it in a glass cage. He's disgusting, only caring about his "revenge" and "love", neither caring about what the object of his love thinks nor if his actions make any sense.
Unconditional Love:
. Cresent Moon: this one's the most difficult one, especially if we take the difference between og cm and current cm. Cresent Moon's unconditional love should be impossible, but she manages it bc her love is inhuman at its core. A love that is equal for everyone, she will love you when you're at your highest and when you're at your lowest. She doesn't care what state of being you are in, and that love is no different than indifference. She will do horrible things to you in the name of love, as long as it's for the greater good. She is the cradle of Transcendents, just how many planets and civilizations have died indirectly by her hand as a result of that? Originally, she had a bit of humanity, loving people and still listening to them, but after morphing into a wish granting system she went mad from the wishes of those trying to live. What she did to shj mightve been the easiest way to save the universe, but it is unbearably cruel for her to try and take away his autonomy, humanity, and identity in order to do so.
All in all, the main theme of sctir is that love goes hand in hand with respect. Love without respect leads to disaster, and it is when one loves and respect one another can that love be strong enough to save the world. The end.
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I’ve been wanting to submit a theory about L’s strange & dissonant behaviour in regards to his acknowledgement (or rather non acknowledgement) of the whatevership with A. I feel I’ve gathered my thoughts at this point, and my theory hinges on an article that was mentioned in another blog. We keep saying that neither L nor his team has publicly acknowledged A. Except they have, at least once in the following article; 
https://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/celebrity-news/bridgerton-heartthrob-luke-newton-grows-32836781
Now, before you panic, take a breath & rest assured that this article changes little in terms of shipping Lukola. I promise. If you can suppress the initial wave of nausea that hits when seeing this article, I highly recommend you read it yourself. Because there’s some interesting stuff in this article when you read between the lines, especially since it’s the only article I’ve found about L&N that is actually an exclusive ( see title header at beginning of article)
For anyone who would rather not read it, here’s as concise a summary I can make using phrasing from the article. L has ‘struck up a friendship’ with A in January, they ‘enjoyed a romantic break in LA’ ( in April), she is ‘understood to have met his family’. They have a great time together but ‘they have not yet gone public as it is still early days’. The article then acknowledges the Instyle stunt & mentions that L has been promoting Bton with N.
So, why publish an article like this? It could have been either A) an official soft launch ahead of a hard launch, or B) a way to regain some control of the narrative around the L&A dating rumours that had begun circulating and leaking into the GA. I’m leaning towards option B. First, while the article acknowledges they are dating in some capacity, the only official label that has been put on L&A’s relationship is friendship. Not an official girlfriend, even in the early days. A friend. Second, I find it interesting that they chose to fudge the details about how long L&A have likely been seeing each other in some capacity. The fandom knows it wasn’t January that they ‘struck up their friendship’, it was likely sometime in summer 2023 & some kind of dating seems to have started in the fall. And what happened in January? The NYE kiss was leaked, and L&A began publicly following each other on IG since the cat was out of the bag. So his team will acknowledge only the details of their situationship that can no longer be denied at this point. 
Interesting… considering everything that came after, namely the heavy flirting between L&N on the WT, followed by papgate 1.0 & papgate 2.0. Because if L or his team had any intention of changing the official status of L&A’s situationship, the People articles following either Papgate would have been the time to do it. Except they didn’t. Those articles were not exclusives and both could only call A his ‘rumoured girlfriend’. Either the writer of the two People articles were lazy and didn’t follow up on the info, or they did follow up and essentially got told ‘No comment’.
This is why I believe there will be no hard launch. Some people have assumed that L wanted to keep the relationship private, but that’s disproved by the Mirror article. He acknowledged a friendship & some form of dating when rumours were becoming increasingly widespread. But no more. And when given the opportunity to actually hard launch her with the People articles, we got crickets. I’m willing to bet that with the feelings that seem to have reemerged full force between L&N during the WT, the silence is a sign that things are in fact unraveling behind the scenes.
I also just want to note the timing of the article.
May 17th
A few days after the NY Premiere and right as L and N are taking up in Brazil
The use of "friendship" seems very calculated here.
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lari-online · 3 months
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a rant about sydney, carmy, and claire
i want to do this in parts so it’s easier to digest.
part 1 - claire is your classic textbook male gaze, manic pixie dream girl. she’s quirky and funny. she’s ’nerdy girl takes off her glasses and lets down her hair’ beautiful. she’s mysterious but not too much. she’s not like other girls because she isn’t afraid of a little broken arm (or man). she’s fearless. she calls around to ask for carmy’s real number to confront him about giving her a fake one. she’s bold. she seemingly understands him immediately. she remembers him because, he’s the bear and she remembers him. she already knows his entire family so she fits right in. she takes him to house parties to show him life can be fun. she gets him to open up because he’s safe with her. she’s the dream. she’s perfect…but that also makes her boring. and while people who look like her may be able to see themselves within her, it also makes her less relatable and therefore less likable.
part 2 - carmy needs sydney and by extension so does claire. now wether you have hopes for sydcarmy in a romantic sense or not is your business (i personally don’t want syd touching carmy with a ten-foot pole atp. at least not in that way). what’s evident to me though is that people would not be rooting for claire if it wasn’t for sydney. take sydney out of the picture. make it the claire and carmy show. a tale of childhood friends getting a second chance at love. she’s perfect, he’s fucked up but it’s okay because they love each other…tell me you wouldn’t be screaming at claire through your screen to get away from that man. to run for the fucking hills. you need characters like sydney and even richie (who actually make people like carmy deal with their shit) to be the “bitch”/“asshole”. you need to dislike them because they help drown carmy out. they make you believe that carmy may be bad but he isn’t the worst/only one.
part 3 - the relationship between sydney and carmy seems more organic and real than the relationship between claire and carmy because neither syd nor carmy are perfect. they are two imperfect, complex individuals who share a passion, slowly learning more about each other on a personal level. whereas with claire we as an audience are force fed this supposed connection through other characters. constantly reminded of how good she is for him. she is already perfect and knows everything about carmy, which by extension means he’s fucked but fixable. it is also funny because we’ve learned nothing about him through her, like girl please tell us all that you supposedly know and understand about this man lol.
bonus + sorta spoiler - “she’s peace”. i’m sorry…like was that on purpose or am i missing something? is she who you think of to calm yourself down when you’re having a panic attack? does she literally calm you down and ground you when you’re having a panic attack? is the sound of her voice, a simple “hey”, strong enough to cut through all the noise? this is why i want syd to take that opportunity because although she quite clearly is the backbone to that place and i love seeing her, i am dying to see how he’ll fare without her.
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thequietkid-moonie · 4 months
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For a Spy x Family request, how would Fiona deal with needing to get a fake lover for a mission, only to end up genuinely falling in love with them?
Falling in love with her fake spouse
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[ HEADCANONS ] [ Fiona Frost ]
[ Spy x Family ]
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I totally loved your idea!!! Fiona is so funny of a characters and this idea is already inmensily funny on the show, so it was really funny to write it with her!
Hope you like it as much as I did! 🫰🏼
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Fiona was hesitant to accept this mission, she hated the idea of depending in someone else for anything, she is more than capable to achive any goal, she can fulfill her missions without any problem and in little time, so she doesn't like this idea at all
However, she doesn't want to say no to a mision neither, if she has to invest so much time and dedication to the point to fake marriage then is an important and delicate mission, and she can't defraud the rest if she has been asked this, so, as much as she hates it, Fiona accepts the mision at the end
She doesn't really take much time on finding someone who becomes her fake spouse, as long as it can fulfill the role and doesn't bring her troubles then is find for her, and, honestly, once she find you and start this fake relationship she didn't payed much attention to you, just the necesary to make sure no one doubted your relasionship
It is dificult to get on Fiona's heart for how focused she is on her mision and how obsessed she is with Twilight, but little things like treating her with kindness and being interested on her, showing her care or even admiration will slowly warm up her heart
It take quite a long time but the key point is managing to catch her attention enough for her to the curiosity start to sparkle inside of her, even if is just the smallest feeling it is there and, soon or later will lead her to start to want to know more about you
Is quite probable that she already knows everything about you since before starting the fake relationship because she needed to know you were a safe option, however once you catch her attention she finds herself wanting to know more about you, so from that moment she will be paying more attention to you
Her sharp senses now are following your every move full of curiosity, she is careful to don't get caught (still, that doesn't mean it can happen that you feel observe from time to time, but she is always quick to say that it must be nothing if you ever tell her about it)
Fiona doesn't exactly know when what she feels for you started to be love but she won't doubt it much, if she falls in love she will do it with someone who she finds admirable and amazing (even if that person isn't a spy), even so, if she ever question her feelings for you she will always finds reasons to say that you are amazing and perfect
Fiona is really straight forward with herself, so when she knows that she likes you and will actually like to be with you (and after making peace with how now the one she love isn't Twilight but you) she will start a plan to win your heart, she won't say it right away nor force her feelings onto you, she prefers to win your heart in a proper way by showing you how of an amazing partner she can be for you, how much she can offer you in a relationship, Fiona will even start to show off her skills too, she likes to impress you with them and if you do compliment her is like a victory for her (she doesn't show it much but she actually becomes really flustered whenever you compliment her)
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rotbtd-edits · 5 months
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The similiar struggles of Merida & Hiccup
Just my two cents because I love talking these movies. I find it interesting how both Merida and Hiccup share similiar conflicts/themes in their movies. They both feel pressured to become leader figures by their parents, while also stubbornly sticking to their own ideals. Merida is trained by her strict mom to become the perfect princess, and is also expected to carry out her duties through marriage. Hiccup in HTTYD2 is expected to become the next chief by his dad while Hiccup himself feels it's not for him and he can't meet the expectations. They both have other dreams and yearn to keep their freedoms. Merida wants to live her life like she wants to, and Hiccup wants to keep exploring and spreading his findings about dragons. They also have parents that at some point have refused to listen to them.
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They also act in defiance to their families in order to maintain their own ideals and freedoms, wanting to do things their way instead of traditions. Merida argues against her mom, breaks the clan traditions by shooting for her own hand, and asks the witch for help to "change her mom" to agree to Merida's views. This ends up endangering her mother and the peace between the clans. Hiccup in turn refuses to listen to his parents about Drago, both who know him much better than Hiccup. Because Hiccup keeps believing anyone can change, that if he's just given the chance he can make it happen and everyone else is just hindering him in their warmongering blindness. Hiccup believes so strongly in his position as the pacifist peacemaker that he doesn't budge until it's too late. Neither Merida nor Hiccup really stops to think of the possible consiquences of their actions, they only see the positive outcomes. They feel like they're not being listened to, but they also don't listen to others either.
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So they both try to escape the expectations and restrictions put on them by actively defying and being stubborn about it, that it ends up endangering everyone. The main difference is, that while Merida gets a second change and has everything fixed in the end, Hiccup ends up paying the heavy price for his mistakes.
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Merida's actions get her mom turned into a bear and almost loses her completely. In the end when all seems lost Merida finally admits her fault aloud and to herself, owning up to her mistakes. Before that she also admits her careless actions against the clans and is ready to accept her duties as the princess. Merida finally sees the bigger picture outside her own point of view, that she's in a position where she simply can't think only about herself. She manages to reverse the spell and fix her relationship with her mom, who has also come to see the error in her own ways, thus ending things perfect.
Hiccup's mistakes sadly don't get as happy resolve as his stubborness ultimately ends up getting his dad killed. It's the cruel wake up call to Hiccup, how some people are simply beyond help and fighting them is the only way. It's what his dad had tried to tell him throughout the movie. Had he listened to his parents, things might have ended better, and he has to carry this guilt with him probably his whole life. Drago is the real villain and culprit, but Hiccup did play a part in how everything turned out. His part is more nuanced than Merida's, who is more clearly at fault in Brave along with her mom. After Stoick's death, Hiccup has no choice but to face the reality, own to his mistakes by stopping Drago and accept his duty as the chief. It was a harsh lesson for him, that sometimes you just can't force things to go your way, but maybe it was one he needed before becoming the leader for his tribe. Just like Merida needed to face hers to fix everything around her and correct her ways.
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So yeah, like said I find it interesting how Merida and Hiccup's stories and their character growths follow similiar themes. I'm glad Merida got her happy ending, but damn now I really want to give Hiccup a hug! ;u;
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cloakedsparrow · 5 months
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Bat Family AU wherein it’s Janet Drake who survives the Obeah Man’s attack instead of Jack.
Tim’s already Robin, she’s in the coma, and all that. However, when she wakes up, things are a little different. She still buys the mansion next door to Wayne Manor, but she’s happy to accept any help Bruce wants to offer in regards to Tim so he can just say “I’m going to Bruce’s” and she’ll just check that he either did his homework or is bringing it with him. She doesn’t expect Tim to help with her treatment or transport and certainly doesn’t expect a fourteen year old to help out at Drake Industries.
She hires a physical therapist to visit the house every day (Dana, so she’s still a part of Tim’s life, if in a slightly smaller role). She still hires Mrs. Mac as their new maid. She also hires a driver, as well as a new COO to help her bring Drake Industries back after it had gone stagnant in her absence.
The twist? The COO is Talia Head (aka Talia al Ghul).
When Janet learns that Talia has two sons -one, barely a few years older than Tim, the other, a few years younger- she suggests they move into the mansion with them while Talia looks for a place (it works out well enough that they end up staying long-term). Talia introduces Bruce and Tim to Damian early (Jason initially hides out in her side of the mansion since he’s not ready to see Bruce yet and Talia is not forcing his hand on that). Damian is still a spoiled brat at first, but since they’re introduced as allies rather than rivals, Tim and Damian end up getting along great once he’s settled down a bit (and with Talia, Janet, and Jason working together to help him).
Talia killed the Joker upon moving to Gotham (no way was that clown getting near any of her boys again) so while Jason’s mad at Bruce, he still feels he has a parent who loved him enough to cross that line. It also helped to counter Shelia’s betrayal a little and balance out his feelings about parents overall, particularly his mother figures. One mother loved him and tried her best but was given a bad hand, another gave him up to the Joker to save herself some trouble, the last severed ties with her father (whose thumb she’d been under for hundreds of years) and risked the ire of the man she loved to protect him.
The younger boys (Tim & Damian) pretty much split their time between Wayne Manor and the Drake Mansion.
Which gives Janet and Talia plenty of time to build up Drake Industries and take over the Court of Owls on the side.
Instead of making/controlling the talons as the previous Court did, they put them to rest and just send Jason or a few of Talia’s trusted assassins (including Pru, who came to Gotham with her) to fill in the role.
Jason learns more about how and why Tim became Robin this time, so while he’s still pissed at Bruce, he doesn’t take any of it out on the Boy Wonder or anyone else. He even helps with Tim’s training (and his English homework). Jason still takes over a good portion of the Gotham drug/arms circuit and gets to do his big dramatic reveal to Bruce/Batman after fucking with him a bit, only it’s as Talon. His new plan is more of a Bat-level EXTRA guilt trip that keeps going on even after he’s started accompanying his little brothers to the Manor. And he’s a little more focused on protecting his little brothers.
Until Jason decided he wanted the do said big dramatic reveal, Bruce had no idea that the Court of Owls was real or that Janet and Talia had taken it over. He knew something had shifted in Gotham, some cases were going too easily and someone was taking out certain threats before they could become an issue. He’d be working under the theory that there was a new vigilante in town.
It had honestly been driving him a little nuts that he couldn’t find them -that’s part of why Jason decided they needed to get everything out in the open, it was stressing out Tim & Dami.
Neither Janet nor Talia will bow to Bruce’s wishes regarding anything, and he won’t bow to theirs, so the three of them end up working together as equals in a way Bruce doesn’t usually do. He ends up actually liking it, as it makes life a lot less stressful when he isn’t assuming full responsibility for everything and everyone around him.
Alfred, Clark, and Diana have each thanked Janet and Talia in their own way. Dick thanked Janet but he still doesn’t like Talia.
When Cass enters the picture, she gets two honorary moms, Babs gets to just be the cool big sister without all the extra stress, Jason, Tim, and Damian are immediately her adorable little brothers who would totally kill for her, and Bruce is a notably less emotionally constipated control freak, so she has a much easier go of everything.
Cass stabbed some asshole in the throat?
Talia: “It’s isn’t as though he died, Beloved. And good job not getting blood all over your new suit, Cassandra, dear.”
Janet: “It was HIS knife, Bruce. She was defending herself. I don’t know about you, but I would certainly prefer that Cassie comes home in one piece over her being more gentle with the criminals you encourage her to confront.”
Jason: “What, you’d rather have ANOTHER dead kid on your conscience, old man? Then maybe stop sending KIDS out to do your dirty work while expecting them to hold back against MURDERERS, PSYCHOPATHS, and TERRORISTS. Good job, Cass.”
Damian: “Tcht, she didn’t even do any permanent damage, Father.”
Tim: “Cass knew what she was doing. Aside from the visceral shock, is it really that different from hitting someone in the head hard enough to knock them unconscious? He’ll probably have less long-term damage than those henchmen you took out Tuesday night.”
Babs: “Oh, did the poor child murderer get hurt? We aren’t all in this to make ourselves feel good, Bruce. Some of us want RESULTS. Good Job, Cass. I brought some of that ice cream you liked. It’s in the freezer upstairs.”
Dick: “So, no one died; a child’s life was saved, plus any future victims if he’d gotten away tonight; two unsolved murders have been solved, so their families at least get some closure; the killer is in the hospital, under the GCPD’s watch, breathing on his own and there was no permanent damage done to his esophagus or vocal chords. What’s the problem, here, B?”
Alfred: “Forgive me, but has anyone explained the rules to Miss Cassandra beyond ‘no killing’? Because if not, then I do believe she was merely following the rule while using her skill to it’s most effectiveness. Why would she have used a series of blows to line him up for a nerve strike or knockout when she could disarm him and incapacitate him with one swift move?”
Bruce: “Alright, alright. You’ve all made your point. Obviously, we need to have a sit-down to discuss methods and motives and come to an agreement. In the meantime, I’m glad you’re alright, Casandra. And good job saving that child’s life tonight. Why don’t you get changed and take your ice cream to one of the dens upstairs to relax?”
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atopvisenyashill · 9 months
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Killing Jaehaera off was completely unnecessary and it would've been better if she was the mother of Aegon III's kids.
I personally would have loved it he had married Jaehaera and Daenaera because I think there's room in the narrative for both girls.
I think the reason George changed it (besides getting invested in the Velaryons as he wrote out the backstory) was because he wanted some sort of commentary on the lasting legacy of the Dance - Aegon usurps his sister and kicks off a whole violent war for the throne, only for his line to end with a mad little girl, and then die off completely. Rhaenyra lets revenge color her actions during the war and adds to the death, misery, and escalation of violence all so her line can descend from her only for the history books to record that they descend from Daemon, and there’s nothing Aegon III can do to change it. In a way, despite everything, the lines of both Rhaenyra and Aegon end with them. This war that claimed the lives of their children, their lovers, their families, was completely fruitless and useless; all that's left at the end is orphans, and history books that will call Aegon and Rhaenyra both usurpers. It's very sad commentary, for sure, but I get why it was so important to George to kill Jaehaera off (to a certain extent). It's just he did it in the most George way possible lmao and it doesn't hit the way I think he intended it to.
But it could have! Which is so frustrating! He could have 100% had them both in the narrative easily - just have Daenaera be a lady of the court and a friend of Jaehaera's! Jaehaera can take in Daenaera as a lady to help smooth things over with that branch of the Velaryons (who are probably still pissed off because Alyn is a bastard and everyone in Westeros hates Baela for doing #HotGirlShit). Jaehaera is mother to Daeron, Baelor, and Daena, and kills herself/is murdered right after Daena is born. I think having a daughter of her own is an interesting trigger for her trauma - like, your husband having the same cursed name as your father who died miserable and alone, with only you for family, and then watching your husband hold your first daughter? More than enough to trigger an episode, and leave it vague as whether she threw herself onto the spikes or someone simply took advantage of her being scared and alone & pushed her.
Maiden’s Day happens and there's a lot of nerves because the last time the King got remarried, the Dance happened. Different circumstances because Aegon has two sons, to be sure, but I'm positive half the realm is thinking "what if he chooses wrong and we get another Otto Hightower." Baela and Rhaena present Aegon’s new bride, then point to the beautiful but quiet, also grieving Daenaera Velaryon, and Aegon just accepts it because he knows Daenaera won’t oppose Jaehaera’s children (they were friends, also Daenaera is now scarred by the violence of Jaehaera’s death). Daenaera is as uninterested in him as he is in her; the twins present a way for him to remarry without forcing him out of his comfort zone (which neither Aegon nor Jaehaera ever liked to be) while backing Daenaera into an offer she can’t refuse. Continuing on the use of traumatized women as pawns, the twins clawing for their own power and relevancy as the Regents, Small Council, and now even Aegon’s sons steal it away from them, a move that is as “girlboss” esque for them as it horrifying for Daenaera. This way, you still get the Blackfyres descending from Jaehaera (and the Greens), you get the Velaryons in there more, you get Maiden's Day and Daenaera.
I think this scenario - where Jaehaera is mother to Daena and the Blackfyres, and Daenaera to the two youngest girls - doesn't make a huge difference in the grand plan, BUT it does make some things more interesting. It adds a really interesting echo from Viserys I and Rhaenyra’s children to Aegon’s - how easily these bonds between half siblings can be turned sour if only their lives are just a bit different. Daena, daughter of Jaehaera, falling to the generational Targaryen curses of dying young, of accidentally kicking off a succession crisis simply because she desired sexual agency. Elaena, daughter of Daenaera, escaping these curses through her politicking, her skill, siding against the nephew she adores and helped raise to try to escape Daena and Jaehaera’s fates. Not to mention having Aegon II’s line end with his daughter, then morph into the usurping Blackfyres is a great narrative choice!
It’s all right there!! The themes!!! It all goes back and back, this family enacting continent destroying violence against each other all for the privilege of sitting on that ugly, spiky chair. But no we get Daenaera the hot six year old instead. SmFh.
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phoenixkaptain · 1 year
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Thinkin about Su Xiyan, Tianlang-jun, and Luo Binghe again…
Su Xiyan who was forced into doing things and who desperately didn’t want to betray Tianlang-jun and who drank poison so she could see him again and warn him only to find out that she was far too late. And she gave birth to a little baby boy and instead of tossing him overboard into the water or letting him freeze, she wrapped him in her own robes to send him down the river. She must’ve been hoping he’d live, right? She must’ve been desperately longing for her child to live. She must’ve been so tired. She looked back on those times when she and Tianlang-jun would tease and flirt with each other and despite everything, she must’ve felt so terribly, terribly alone.
Tianlang-jun, who begins as a legitimately almost pure-hearted maiden. He likes to bounce around the human realm and play their songs and read their stories and spend way too much money until he’s broke. And he falls so hard for Su Xiyan. He falls so hard for her, to the point that he brings her up constantly and he asks Zhuzhi-Lang whether or not he’s handsome and he trusts her and trusts her and trusts her… only for everything to be torn apart. Only to be buried under a mountain and stuck thinking that Su Xiyan is the one who caused all of it. Barely even able to mourn for everything he’s lost.
It isn’t like the world is kind to them after everything. Tianlang-jun is painted as a monster who was on the verge of storming the human realm. Su Xiyan is badmouthed the moment people find out that she was pregnant with Tianlang-jun’s child. No matter what she does, she can’t win. If she betrayed her sect for Tianlang-jun, then she was a traitor who was seduced by a demon. If she betrayed Tianlang-jun for her sect, then she was a horrible mother and terrible woman. If she tried to kill her unborn child, she’s unfit to be called a woman. If she tried to save him, she brought an unholy abomination into the world. She just can’t win.
And of course Luo Binghe’s supposed to be tragic. Of course his story is supposed to be sad. But he’s so desperate for any hint of affection and he’s told to his face that he’s an unholy abomination and his father doesn’t seem to care about him and his mother tried to abort him and it’s so easy to feel all alone. It’s so easy for him to feel like he doesn’t fit anywhere, because he’s both human and demon, which means he’s neither human nor demon.
The part that always makes me tear up is when Luo Binghe tries to merge the two realms together. He’s so desperate. He’s so broken. He doesn’t know what to do and he only knows that he doesn’t want to be left behind. He says that nobody has ever chosen him. He says that it would be fine even if Shen Qingqiu hated him, as long as he didn’t toss him aside.
And it’s awful! This family is awful! It’s so sad! It’s too sad! Su Xiyan chose Luo Binghe before anyone else did. Su Xiyan chose to save him, chose to try and keep him warm and dry. Even at the cost of her own life, she chose him! And she chose him because she loved Tianlang-jun! She basically poisoned herself trying to keep the only thing she had left of Tianlang-jun alive! Tianlang-jun says that Luo Binghe looks like her. Tianlang-jun can’t even be angry or sad when he mentions her, he just goes blank, until he finds out that she really wanted to save him and he can’t help but love her all over again! Tianlang-jun looks at Luo Binghe and Luo Binghe is proof that Su Xiyan loved him!
Luo Binghe realizes that he hurt Shen Qingqiu and he’s more than horrified. All he’s ever wanted to do is be strong enough that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have to get hurt saving him anymore, but all he ever seem to accomplishe is hurting Shen Qingqiu himself. He tries to learn demonic cultivation to get stronger and he gets pushed into the Endless Abyss. He tries to learn spiritual cultivation and Shen Qingqiu dies in his arms. He tries to keep Shen Qingqiu’s body in perfect condition so that he can bring hin back to life, only for the body to be stolen out from under him twice. He asks, again and again, for Shen Qingqiu to choose him, and he never gets chosen.
But, you can’t actually blame Shen Qingqiu. Because all of those scenes of him not choosing Luo Binghe ARE him choosing Luo Binghe! He chooses Binghe and Binghe’s safety everytime, he just never realizes that he himself is necessary for Binghe to be safe. And why would he assume that? He hurt Binghe and he feels like he can’t be forgiven for it, to the point that all of his suffering is him punishing himself.
Luo Binghe in the wedding extra asks Shen Qingqiu to marry him and he’s so nervous beforehand that he literally trips. He stutters. And even after he asks, he tells Shen Qingqiu not to answer, because he can’t listen to the answer, he can’t listen to Shen Qingqiu turn him aside again and he contents himself with thinking that even if they aren’t married, Shen Qingqiu has indulgently allowed him to follow wherever he goes, and that’s enough.
So when Shen Qingqiu does say yes, it’s emotional. He’s shocked. And even as he pulls out all the stops for the “wedding,” I don’t think Luo Binghe is actually convinced that Shen Qingqiu meant it until the next day, when Shen Qingqiu calls him “Husband” without even being asked. I think that’s the moment it hit him. Shen Qingqiu chose him.
We start the novels by hearing a basic outline of PIDW, which starts with Su Xiyan choosing Luo Binghe. We end the novels with Shen Qingqiu choosing Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe finally, finally understands what it feels like to be loved.
Meng Mo and the Huan Hua Palace Master want Luo Binghe as their student because he’s powerful and capable and, in the Palace Master’s case, he reminds him of Su Xiyan. His wives, it’s somewhat strongly implied, mostly wanted him for sex and what he could do for them. Nobody ever really befriends Luo Binghe at any point. He’s always standing apart from others. He’s never part of the Huan Hua disciples and he stands out amongst the Cang Qiong sect disciples and he stands out among demons and he stands out among humans and
And he finally stands with Shen Qingqiu. He’s finally not alone. He’s finally someone’s first choice. He finally feels like someone’s first choice.
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