#and it was the two people personally responsible for his torture and the death of the clan that raised him
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bogleech · 1 day ago
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I'm actually not going to let this go until Gerry is at least as widely ridiculed as Human Pet Guy. That guy still didn't do anything half as disturbed as this fucking loser, let me pull up my favorites again:
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Gerry messaging me from an alt pretending not to be an alt
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Gerry claiming again that it's antisemitic of me to say the IDF are bad guys who do not represent the entire Jewish population. This is not, in fact, the same as saying they're "not jews anymore." Also bragging about supposedly baiting and sealioning me into saying whatever they believe I said wrong. I guess the stupid ass hell thing????
Calling me a "blorbo" like I'm a fictional character rather than a human. Also, I went and got the original hell comment to double check it:
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.....This doesn't even say the IDF should go to hell. It says I hope people "excusing" the IDF's actions should go to hell, I just typoe'd it as "excising." I guess Gerry successfully gaslit me, since I fully believed I had said specifically "the IDF go to hell." Thanks!
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Gerry accusing me of "lumping them in as pro genocide" in response to a comment in which I specifically state I do not see them that way. How else am I supposed to read them NOW, though? Because I defined that as "someone who thinks kids deserve bombs dropped on them," and Gerry's response is "how dare you say that about me......???????" What?? Not once do they ever simply say "no one deserves their town to be bombed" or anything like that. They absolutely refuse, because they do in fact believe that it's okay to bomb a whole community if some of that community might hypothetically be "hamas." They do in fact think it's acceptable that people who never hurt anyone else should die that way for some sort of greater good, or that only hamas can be blamed for those deaths by "forcing the hand" of the ones with those bombs.
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Gerry admitting the IDF bombs, loots and tortures, even though most comments they call antisemitic are calling out just that very behavior. Gerry to my knowledge has never willingly blamed anything negative on the IDF since this comment and continues to attack people who do.
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Gerry admitting the honest core of their beliefs and behavior. This isn't really about me, though. I mean, part of it is, I can definitely be vindictive. But I mostly ignored this asshole for the past year until the doxx comment, and now I'm getting more messages than ever from people who feel actually hurt and terrorized by this motherfucker. I've suffered ZERO fallout from their attacks, I am evidently too big I guess, but there are people who change their username to hide from this piece of shit, even fucking minors who dared to say "free palestine" once. Then there's @stoptheantisemitism, who is NOT gerry, but is impersonated by gerry's alt account @spottheantisemitism and other alt accounts, @stop-the-antisemitism and of course @stop--the--antisemitism in this very thread. Creating so many variants is a deliberate attempt to make it as hard as possible for casual rebloggers to remember which one is the real person. I mean, two alts only add dashes to the same username, and the other only moves one letter "p." I have no idea how tumblr staff can rationalize that as okay. But, again, if there's a guy who can't show his face without human pet jokes because he was just generally creepy, or everyone remembers sixpenceee's family having slaves, why can a user devote this much of their miserable life to "baiting and sealioning" people from multiple accounts and still have a usable blog left? ONE LAST THING!!!!!!!
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In the notes on this very post, gerry is so bent on finding people to call out and slander they tried to find "misogyny" in a comment saying that women like studying bugs????????
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Gerrysherry, the user who tells people I'm antisemitic because I think IDF soldiers are killing innocent civilians (rather than framed by some kind of Hamas conspiracy), believes my real name was a secret that I only just now accidentally revealed rather than the default way I've signed all my web content since the 1990's. Also believes that I have an employer, that "telling my parents" would affect a grown man, that my hippie mom would disagree with me anyway, and that the hatemail they got last year was all me rather than the natural and inevitable fallout of the supremely fucked up shit they say about the victims of a mass murder. Apparently would gleefully leap at any hypothetical chance at "doxxing" me though. Good to know. Literally wishes they could ruin my real actual life because I don't think Netanyahu is a hero.
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mxtxfanatic · 5 months ago
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Thank you for being willing to stand up for the wonderful writing in mdsz. It is amazing especially after you unexpectedly come across a post saying Wei Wuxian would be ecstatic to join Jiang Cheng in torturing demonic cultivator because it showed JC “cared”?
It’s the instinct of abuse apologists to attempt to absolve the object of their obsession of abuse by claiming that their victim is actually ok with the abuse. “Jin Ling loves it when Jiang Cheng insults him! It’s their love language!” they say to drown out all the moments Jin Ling yells back at Jiang Cheng for how he speaks to him and others, runs away from the man, and flinches—along with Fairy—from him at the very end when Jiang Cheng lifts his hand to smack the kid yet again.
“Wei Wuxian loves Jiang Cheng, and he’d be proud of the man’s actions!” they say as if we don’t have the proof of Wei Wuxian looking at the new Lotus Pier and leaving on the note of “i never want to return,” as if the Guanyin Temple arc concluding with Wei Wuxian turning his back on Jiang Cheng with no regrets isn’t followed up by the Lotus Pod Seeds extra where a teenage Wei Wuxian says that if Jiang Cheng wanted to be a caustic asshole, then he can settle for being alone for the rest of his life.
After a while of laughter, [Wei Wuxian] turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.” Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?” Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”
—Chapt. 125: Lotus Pod Seeds Extra, exr
And he was right.
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animeyanderelover · 2 months ago
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Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, delusional behavior, mentions of abduction, torture, death
Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @shenryu-sama @leveyani @maggiequinn59 @hyakki-yosai
Darling is possessed
Kurapika Kurta
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⛓️​Kurapika has already proven himself to be an individual whose feelings burn so strongly that he'd travel to hell itself to accomplish his objective. Your sudden disappearance is a trigger, a disturbance that jolts at his composure and ends in overflowing agitation and fear. His eyes are burning red every time the thought of your crosses his mind, flames that have never been extinguished rising to new heights as he dwells in thoughts of you. No matter how much time passes though, Kurapika has never stopped searching for you. Through thunder, rain and storms he has continued his search for you, travels far and wide in hopes of finding any clues of your mysterious disappearance. A part of his mind believes the Phantom Troupe to be at fault as they're out to target him to avenge their dead members as well as what he has done to Chrollo. After all only a few individuals are capable of stealing you away from him as Kurapika is an overly cautious individual when it involves your safety. He loses control of his emotions as time passes without finding you, his soul filled with grief, longing and the wish to extract revenge on whoever is responsible for your abduction.
⛓️​When the two of you finally reunite he finds no comfort in it though. Instead his heart is torn to bloody pieces as he has to find out that the person inhabiting your body is no longer you but a stranger who takes glee in his pain as they reveal to him what they have done already whilst in your body. Hot wrath courses through his veins as he listens, his eyes glowing in an eery red as he hears what they have forced you to do. Unable to hurt them as they are in your body he finds another method to restrain them before he starts interrogating them, using his Dowsing Chain to reveal any lie within their words. However, it is nothing short of heart-wrenching to stand in front of you whilst knowing that it is no longer you in there. He doesn't want to believe their taunts when they tell him that you are no longer in there, their malicious grin on your face making you feel nauseous as his emotions tremble within him and tears start filling his eyes. At one point he yells at them to shut up, tears escaping him as he squeezes his eyes as if to block their words. He considers stealing their ability in hopes of bringing you back but as long as he doesn't know what exactly will happen to you, he'll wait.
Illumi Zoldyck
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🤎​The day you vanish into thin air goes down as a day that puts shame on the family name. The greatest assassin family, unable to find one simple person. A shameful burden that tends to humiliate the Zoldyck family to this day as there has never been a case of such utter defeat and cluelessness in their history. Illumi knows already that you could have never done such a feat by yourself as there has to be someone who abducted you yet he has no time to acknowledge the talent of whoever took you. How can he when it is his darling that was taken away from him after all? His Nen rolls through every room of the mansion in thick and dreadful waves as soon as the news have been confessed to him. The butlers who were responsible for your supervision are murdered before they can even attempt to defend themselves, needles piercing their brains before they can even finish their sentence. Driven by his obsession and his duty to cleanse his family name of such humiliation, Illumi finds himself dedicating the following years searching for you. The pile of people he kills during that time grows from year to year as an unfamiliar feeling of restlessness starts to take over as he is unable to find anything.
🤎​He's able to overpower you when you attack him though it isn't as easy as a feat as it should have been. From the very first attack of yours Illumi already recognises that there is something wrong with you as you would have never been able to move your body in such sneaky and deadly ways. Knowing that there is someone else in your body he drags you to the torture chambers and chains your body up, staying in front of you for hours until your eyes flutter open but someone else stares at him. Much less prone to caving in, Illumi actually hurts your body as he interrogates whoever is inside of you. Broken bones will heal after all and if they should decide to withhold the knowledge that he desires he will simply use his needles on them to get the information that he needs out of them. Even after he has attained everything that he needs he lets you stay chained up with a needle within your neck to keep your body from doing what they want. As prideful of his family as he is, Illumi realises that he requires skills that none of his other family members besides maybe Alluka possess and so he finds himself seeking out a powerful exorcist to assist him in bringing you back and erasing whoever did this to you.
Pokkle
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🏹​His composure doesn't last long before he crumbles as the weight of your disappearance sickers through the thick layers of shock and denial and hits him straight through his heart. You were the center of Pokkle's world and taking that away from him leaves him stumbling around blindly as the ground beneath his feet seems to disappear and dizziness just takes over. He spends hours searching every nook and cranny for you with a blurry vision due to all the tears streaming down his face as if desperately holding onto the hope that he'll find you sitting somewhere, clinging to that delusion until there's nothing to hold on to anymore and he crashes into the bottom of despair. His life from that day on seems to be just a colourless blur of loneliness, guilt and agony as he cannot perceive joy in things around him anymore if he doesn't have you to share them with. Instead he dedicates every waking hour of his day from now on to searching for you. The sheer stress and strain he puts on himself greatly affects his physical and mental well-being. He grows downright unstable as he starts threatening random people, dark bags under his eyes as his nights are only filled with nightmares of your forver disappearance.
🏹​He doesn't defend himself, his bow and arrow vanishing the moment his tired eyes focus and give him a clear sight of his attacker. With no resistance from his side he gets hurt quite a bit but no bleeding wound compares to his bleeding heart in that moment. The look in your eyes doesn't belong to you, inflicting so much more pain on him then any knife you could plunge into his flesh. Ultimately the only thing he is able to do is use his own body to restrain your form, clinging to you tightly and restricting your movements as he cries and sobs for you to stop, to come back to him. For someone as malnourished and tired as he is the amount of strengh he still possesses is more than just surprising, his grip on you so tight that all of his muscles are trembling. Pokkle refuses to listen to the words spoken from the stranger in your voice, doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that you might be gone forever with your body ruled by someone else. He can't accept that, especially after all the years he has spent searching for you. He'd simply cease to exist if you would be gone forever as death would be more welcoming than living with the knowledge that his failure to protect you led to this.
Chrollo Lucilfer
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📖​Chrollo's rage is much more silent and predatory, a hint of doom that slowly and gradually fills the room until every breath tastes like the promise of death and chaos and fills the lungs of everyone within vacinity with poison. Chrollo already plans the gruesome death of the person who stole his greatest treasure from him but as of now he has no time to spend his time daydreaming about his revenge. He needs to find you before that and only then can he indulge in the pleasure of slowly tearing the culprit apart. Every member of the Phantom Troupe starts searching for you as they split up in small groups and search for you across multiple regions All coups and grand plans to steal other treasure are forgotten as for Chrollo there is only one treasure he truly desires and needs in his life. Amidst all that thick rage beneath the calm surface he isn't above acknowledging that whoever stole you away from him possesses an extraordinary talent for there are only few people who would be able to pull such a heist through without him noticing. He might even start dwelling on the question of where his own limits lie so that he can analyse the limits of his own capacities and find other solutions to keep you.
📖​It's relatively easy for Chrollo to restrain you due to the abundance of stolen Nen abilities that he has within his book, black eyes gazing coldly at your body. It is quite diabolical of the person who is possessing you to use your own body and a part of him would almost like to admire it. Yet it is your body that they had to use for their little plan and it is this that leads Chrollo to calmly promise them that he shall strive to find the most creative and excruciating methods to end their life ever so slowly. He gathers the entire troupe soon after he has found you and informs them of the situation as well as the information he has already been able to get out of the one stuck in your body. The situation is far more complicated than even he could have imagined as the solution doesn't just simply lie in stealing their Nen ability. Other factors are required if he wishes to have your own soul return to your body and he needs to require those specific skills before he can continue with his plan. More time needs to be invested but he is willing to treat patience as his virtue as it'll allow him eventually to have you back in his arms and to compose a beautiful symphony of pain for the one responsible for all of this.
Feitan Portor
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☠️​The quietness that Feitan initially exhibits when he notices your absence for the first time is downright unnerving as it feels like the rumored calm before the storm. His hoarse voice utters your name warningly, his eyes analysing his surroundings. If you should merely try to mess with him he is giving you once chance to return and beg for him to find it even just a quarter as amusing as you might have thought it to be. Once he has assessed that you are indeed gone his Nen starts slipping out as even the air seems to shiver in fear. From all the problems you have given him already this is indeed your magnum opus of threatening to push him over the edge. Your disappearance should by all accounts be a relief to him as it means that he has to deal no more with you yet your absence leaves a hole behind that he finds hard to fill as the hollowness seemingly drives him insane. He swears that as soon as he has found you and dismembered whoever is responsible for your sudden disappearance he will have you on a literal leash so that he will always have you within his vision. The torture he inflicts on people in search for you leaves him with more impatience and frustration behind than before.
☠️​Broken bones will heal with the right treatment. Feitan knows how the human body works, how to break it efficiently without killing someone. So when you attack him he has no trouble swiftly breaking your bones, disabling you to walk or use your arms freely. It is made so much easier because he senses that there is someone within you who doesn't belong in there. He drags your broken body away, chains you up and makes sure that you aren't able to move even an inch and attempt to do anything before he drags a chair in front of you and starts interrogating the person currently inhabiting the body that belongs to you since you belong to him. If whoever took control of your body was hoping that he wouldn't hurt them, they are sorely mistaken. In fact Feitan inflicts a lot of wounds on them whenever they don't answer a question of his or try to outsmart him. There are lots of bones that he can break and lots of nails he can rip out after all without damaging your body permanently. He very much doesn't care about any grand explanations of plans and revenge. He only cares about how he can get you back and how he can give the body snatcher a long and gruesome death.
Kite
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🤡​Your disappearance is all the more shocking for Kite because it was so utterly unexpected. Your relationship with him has always been stable and healthy even despite his slightly more obsessive and protective tendencies. He can't recall any signs he noticed within your behavior that would lead to the conclusion that you left him on your own. With that possibility out of the way the only conclusion that Kite finds himself left with is that someone has taken you forcefully out of the picture and it is this idea that is quite unnerving in its own aspects. He spends weeks researching and pondering if there is someone who holds a grudge against him and who might have taken you to use you as his weak spot only to be left with nothing by the end of it. Deep down there is a silent hysteria that starts forming a knot within his stomach but Kite forces himself to remain calm as he understands that letting panic take control over his senses would only lead to eratic behavior and sporatic decisions that might leave more harm than good. The agony follows him closely though as it glues itself to his body like a second skin he is unable to shake off as he isolates himself more and more.
🤡​He dodges all of your attacks skillfully, his brain quickly going through an analysis before he arrives at one conclusion that has his heart dropping into his stomach. That the person standing in front of him isn't you. As soon as he has arrived at that conclusion he decides that it is wisest to restrain your body for now and keep you from attacking him or anyone else. On the surface he appears cold-hearted and uncaring, his touches purposefully rougher to hold up the impression that he holds no attachment or horror. Apparently his face isn't convincing enough as you start laughing in an unpleasant way that has goosebumps appearing on his skin, the short shock coursing through his body reaction enough for the body snatcher to deduct that he is only trying to bluff right now. Kite may try to hide it as much as he wants to but the truth is that the sight of your body occupied by someone else shakes him greatly to his core. There will be no harm caused to your body even if there is another mind in control of it simply because he loves you too much to ever hurt you. He will have to come up with another solution if he wishes to get any answers out of the stranger than his empty threats.
Meruem
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👑​The entire palace falls into chaos the moment your absence is made apparently obvious. Everyone within the walls feels the king's rage, the feeling so unspeakably terrifying that those who get too close to him seem to age rapidly out of terror before they are mercilessly beheaded. Meruem goes on a carnage within his kingdom as he kills every human and foot soldier that crosses his path without any great consideration. They are of no use to him after all as every single one of them failed to keep an eye on you. His three Royal Servants are almost made a victim of his killing spree as well as they too failed in protecting you but surprisingly enough it is Komugi who advices him to keep them alive as she knows that they are more loyal than anyone else to him and will surely assist him in finding you. Especially Shaiapouf's ability proves to be useful as he hypnotises entire villages and transforms them into new replacable foot soldiers who assist in the search for you. Every single day that passes without any information about your current whereabouts is another day Meruem ends up slaughtering someone and each day the number grows as his rage becomes harder to contain.
👑​His Royal Servants restrict you long before you even reach their King and if it wouldn't have been for the terrifying spike within his aura they might have caused you serious harm or might have even killed you as their only duty installed into them from the moment of their birth is to protect Meruem. Instead you are only tightly restricted and locked away, or at least your body is. To everyone of them it is obvious that the person in control of you is someone else, a Nen ability which has allowed someone else to possess you and control you freely. The willpower of that strange mind to not falter within his presence is not something that Meruem intends to respect and admire though as they have unfortunately chosen the wrong person to approach him. They chose you, his darling and that is a mistake that can only be paid with one's worthless life. If we are going with the concept that the Nen user has indeed implanted their brain within you it is quite likely that Meruem intends to get rid of them once and for all by consuming their brain and nurturing his own power after he has found a way to bring you back unharmed.
Shaiapouf
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🎻​Shaiapouf's rage is nothing short of ugly. Already once has he suffered a great loss due to humans and now it seems that cycle repeats itself. The wrath that emits from him is potent, terrifying enough to gray hair rapidly or even cause someone's heart to stop altogether. Entire villages are victims of his rage as he searches high and low for his darling. Some humans, those he deems to have some mild worth, he spins inside cocoons so that they may serve as foot soldiers to distract the hunters coming after him or assist him in his search to find you. All of his emotions only exist within a negative rage and always on the extremes as he is constantly going back and forth between enough rage to want to destroy the entire human race and an indescribable grief that has him crying and shedding tears for days. Shaiapouf has prided himself on his ability to serve his majesty since the moment he hatched yet here is is, failing a second time to protect the very person he has chosen to give his services to. What does that say about him? Is he simply doomed to fail at the one thing he was created for? He goes through multiple existential cricises and each one leaves him more unhinged than before.
🎻​He uses his Spiritual Message the moment he spots you, instantly sensing that the person using your body isn't you. The will of the person within you isn't as easily suppressed as he expected though which forces him to restrict them tightly yet not enough to inflict any harm until his scales have their effect and hypnotise you. As soon as he is sure that you won't disappear he allows himself a mental breakdown where he lays waste on his surroundings as wailing sorrow and searing rage clash within him. The thought that someone has taken control of your body is almost too much for the devoted servant who by now can only cling to a sliver of what was once his actual composure as his own confidence has been shattered and stomped on ruthlessly so that nearly nothing is left anymore. Once he has gained a semblance of composure he returns to your side, his mind already switching to analysing the situation. The bloodlust Shaiapouf feels is almost tangible as soon as the body snatcher talks to him though, daring to use your voice. Still, he cannot afford to fail a second time. He needs an ability to extract their Nen and bring you back, an exorcist which he can transform into a loyal slave.
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ashwhowrites · 6 months ago
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can I request one where it after the upside down and Eddie is not doing good and pushes everybody away including the reader then he realises that he really misses the Reader and beg for reader forgiveness and they make up. please and thank you love youuu.!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
The upside down curse
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The Upside Down had effects on many people, some were used to it and some experienced it for the first time. Y/N and the gang had been to the Upside Down more than once. They were slowly getting used to the torture and haunting memories.
Eddie was new to it all. The things he's seen and the pain he went through, it kept him up at night. He didn't understand how they went on with their life like they didn't see death right in their face. He stayed locked up in his room, body slowly healing as he tried to forget it all.
He started to push everyone away, seeing them reminded him of what happened. And he knew he shouldn't but he blamed all his friends and even his girlfriend. They all kept him in the dark until they needed his help. They had no problem lying right to his face over and over. They knew the dangers of the Upside Down and still sent him in. He wasn't sure if he could forgive them for that.
"Eddie," Wayne's voice came through the door as he knocked, "Y/N is here."
Eddie rolled over in his bed, looking at the door. A part of him wanted to see her but the other part was still mad about what she did.
"Tell her to go home," Eddie called out
He was met with silence, then the sound of footsteps walking away and a door closing.
~~~
She came every day and he always sent her away. But she kept showing up, even on days that Wayne wasn't there. The door was never locked and she never opened it. Y/N was a person who liked to talk everything out and he knew that conversation wouldn't end well. He feared he'd lose his temper and a screaming match would start. He almost lost her in the upside down and he wasn't ready to lose her here.
"Eddie? It's been two weeks, can we please talk about it?"
Like clockwork, her voice traveled through his door. He sighed but sat up. He thought about what he wanted to do.
"Eddie?" She asked again, knocking on the door. Eddie sat in silence with his thoughts, unaware his silence made her think the worst.
She panicked and slammed open the door. Relief in her veins as she saw him sitting on his bed.
"I didn't say you could come in," he said, no emotion in his voice as he stared ahead.
"You didn't answer! I thought you were dead or something" she argued, taking time to step into his room. She hadn't seen him in over two weeks and never realized how much she could miss seeing someone's face.
Eddie scoffed and shook his head. "Right because now you care if I'm dead or not."
Y/N clenched her eyes at his words. "Of course, I care. I've always cared," she said, moving to sit next to him. Her head turned to look at him but he didn't look back at her, head still straight.
"Eddie, I never wanted you to get involved in this" she whispered
Eddie's head snapped towards her, "then why did you?" He snapped
"I didn't!" She argued, "I didn't know you were coming. If I did, I would have locked you inside this trailer. I'd never want you in danger like that!"
"Right, that's why you all initially lied to me. You all wanted to protect me. But then what? You needed someone to save your asses and I was the damn sacrifice!" He fought, standing up as he felt his anger building.
"You can blame us all you want, but guess what Eddie!" She stood in front of him, her own anger taking over. "You made the choice, you made the choice to listen and go in. Take responsibility for it and let me help you." Her voice grew soft at the end. "I know you were scared, and I hate that I wasn't there right when you needed me. But I'm here now, let me be here, baby"
Eddie melted when her hands rested on his cheeks. He could feel his anger breaking down and the build-up of tears leaked down his face.
"I thought I was going to die" he whimpered, "I didn't want to die yet"
Y/N watched as he broke out into a sob, his head shoved into her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back as he cried.
"You're safe now, honey. You're right where you should be," she cooed into his ear.
He wrapped his arms around her, so tight that she couldn't move an inch. Not that she minded. She was happy to finally feel him again.
"I'm sorry," he cried, "I'm sorry I pushed you away."
"It's okay, it's okay," she said softly, kissing his head softly. "We'll be okay"
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@mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123
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sugarygetoo · 4 months ago
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red.
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-> pairing: rengoku kyojuro x fem! reader.
-> summary: kyojuro once loved red.
-> cw/ tw:  major character death, mentions of demons (duh!), blood, mentions of torture(?),
-> wc: 1.6k (i'm cooking so hard at 3 in the morning omg)
-> an. supriseeeeee i told you guys i was coming back with an angst this came to me while driving back home from a bbq party (i wasn't driving) so i really don't know what that says about me lmao
i lowkey just pulled this one out of my ass lmao, i have so many noted down ideas i need to write and i decided to write one that i came up with on a whim...
also, call me a sadist but i love when people comment about how they feel about my works, like i love it when they tell me how sad it is like yessss sufferrrr <3333
!! this fictional work contains many descriptions of blood, please proceed with caution, we as creators are not responsible for the content you choose to consume!!
main masterlist. | kimetsu no yaiba masterlist.
✎ xoxo, yena
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kyojuro loves the color red.
it was a beautiful color, with meanings just as beautiful to go along with it.
a fiery red burns with passion. it’s bright and bold, always standing out from a crowd. it was a color that was made to make the person wearing it shine. like how his hair and eyes were always drawing people’s attention. 
a soft red, or some might know it as pink, carries gentle feelings — feelings, like love and “home”. it was a color that made kyojuro think about you. you whom he loves with every atom in his body.
red has always reminded kyojuro of you. 
you, who is forever always so lovely and shone ever so beautifully in his eyes. you, who engraved her every existence into the deepest parts of his very soul. you, who always whispers sweet nothings into his ears after a long day of work, telling him how much you’ve missed him and how proud you were of him and his accomplishments. you, who always burned with passion and kindness, like a flame that refuses to die down in the rain. you were home to kyojuro in every sense of the way, from your sweet, sweet words to your lingering kisses,  you were always so perfect in kyojuro’s eyes.
kyojuro had always loved the color red on you.
it was a color that was crafted to perfectly suit you. from the way it compliments your features to the way it made you shine brighter than anyone else around. red was a color that suited you like nothing else.
kyojuro loved the color red.
red, that reminded kyojuro of the time he brought you to a field of roses, where you smiled like a child and let out laughter coming from the deepest parts of your heart. where you kissed him and he was able to taste your favorite strawberry lip balm. where you stuck a rose behind his ear, thanking him for bringing you here while he sat and stared at you as the sun hit your back making you look like an angel that was sent from the heavens above to take him away (and he’d let you).
red, that reminded him of the time he proposed to you with a ring that was encrusted with a red gem similar to the color of his eyes on it. it reminds him of the way your eyes turned into a soft red as tears gathered in your eyes, as your soft pink lips start to tremble and a small gasp leaves you. the way you ignored the expensive jewelry and threw yourself onto him while he was on his knees, where you knocked the both of you over, sending both of you to the ground, the way your warm tears flowed out of your eyes and lands on his face, your soft, gentle lips leaves kissed all over his face. starting from his eyes, then to his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, his chin, then finally, his lips. it reminds him of the way you replied to his question with a breathless yes after a breathtaking kiss. 
red, that reminds kyojuro of the carefully handcrafted wedding dress that the two of you were choosing. how it fitted around you like a second layer of skin. how the colors brought out your features and made them shine. it reminded him of how excited you were to pick out the dress that you were to wear in a few weeks time, how you would spend hours upon hours choosing between two shades of red (that he couldn’t tell the difference of), then decided to try them both on, only to pick a third option. it reminded him of you asking him for his opinion only to dismiss it as the only reply he could come up with was “you look beautiful in anything, my love” (which was true in his eyes).
kyojuro loved red.
red, that was the color of passion. the color that reminded kyojuro of himself so much. it was the color of the tips of his hair —  his hair that looked like the brightest of flames. it was also the color of his eyes. his eyes that always shone with pride and passion. eyes that you loved kissing and staring into. eyes, that you loved complimenting, always comparing them to the sun. 
“they’re the most beautiful pair of eyes i’ve ever seen. they remind me of the sun, kyojuro. they always shine so bright, even in the darkest times. they remind me of hope, of longing, your eyes give me strength, my love. you are the sun in my life, my light.” 
kyojuro once loved the color red.
red, that was the color meaning of danger, a color that was bright like a warning to those who sees it. red that meant anger and violence. it was a color that he sees often when he is sent out on missions. from red ornaments thrown around a house to red clothing scattered and in tatters, red was never a good sign. if anything, red always meant something was wrong.
red, that was the color of blood. a color that kyojuro often see while doing his job. it was a color that often stained his sword and clothing, making it hard to wash out. it was a color that kyojuro often hoped to never find while searching for a demon for if it was evident, it never meant good for the people that was once near the area. 
red was a color that kyojuro dislike while working.
red, that was the only thing that he could see. red that burns in his eyes, as his breath grows heavier and heavier and his world begins to move slower and slower. his eyes felt as if they were burning and he cannot feel anything. in the far distance, he could make out muffled voices and sounds of swords clashing, but he couldn’t move.
red, like the blood that came out from the multiple wounds that the demon sustained. the wounds that kyojuro himself tortuously carved into the demon’s body. red, that stained his clothing, his uniform and the haori that you painstaking made for him. he remembers every word you’ve said as clear as day, “here, my love, a gift from me.” you’d then help him put it on, layer it comfortably on top of his demon slayer uniform “i hope this haori can protect you, whether that’s warding the demons away from you or to protect you from the rain, i hope this haori can remind you of me”. kyojuro can only continue his attacks towards the demon, each swing of the blade planned carefully to never hurt the demon to much to the point of killing it. kyojuro wanted it to suffer.
red, like the color that sprouted from your body, staining the otherwise spotless white dress that you were adorning. you were on the ground, turned over, your stomach on the ground with your back facing him. you were unmoving as he closed his distance, his steps getting heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer.
from where he was standing, he could see you as you laid on the floor, your body unmoving as he called out to you.
“y/n?” he’d call out ever so softly, as if he was afraid you’d wake. “i’m back, my love.”
as he crouched down, and laid his hands on your shoulder, he could feel his breath leaving his body. you were so, so cold. he turned you over and—
all he could see was red.
red. 
red. 
red.
red, like the color that stained your white dress.
red, that dripped from your arm as kyojuro picked you up from the ground, that stained the floor of your shared home, that made the mansion smell like rust and metal.
red, that was the color of the flowers outside of his home, the roses, the poppies, the chrysanthemums, and the spider lilies. the color that dripped from your lips onto the white lilies that were planted closest to the porch, tinting them forever.
red, that dripped onto kyojuro, that still had some lingering warmth. 
red, that tinted kyojuro’s lips as he kissed you ever so carefully, from your closed eyes to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, your neck, then carefully, he kissed your lips. they were bright shades of red, like the lipstick that was gifted to you from mitsuri but rarely used since you didn’t think it looked good on you. your lips no longer tasted like the strawberry lip balm that you loved using, but instead tasted of rust and metal, a taste that kyojuro knows he will never be able to forget.
red, like the gem on the ring that was left on your  finger, that was stained with your blood. the gem shines against the moonlight as kyojuro could do nothing but hold you closer to him, cradling your head into his neck as he rocks the two of you back and forth, his eyes watering as he hums a tone you once loved. 
as the sun rises, kyojuro kisses your forehead again, then lifts your lifeless hand to his lips as he kisses the cold ring left on your finger, a promise to you for revenge. he closes his eyes as the first ray of light enters his eyes, the sun finally showing itself to kyojuro. 
tears finally fall, as he realizes that you are gone. that you’ve gone to the moon to join the stars and he was left in this world as your sun, to be damned to shine alone.
kyojuro kisses you one last time, as he could no longer contain his sobs of sadness.
kyojuro hates red.
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@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.
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thinkinonsense · 6 months ago
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Magnetic ──★ Logan Howlett x fem!oc: Chapter Two
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╰┈➤Summary: After years of torture, Daphne decides how she wants to spend the rest of her life; at the bottom of a lake. Out of nowhere, Logan pulls Daphne from the water and finds her help. Now they must navigate how to live with their decisions.
╰┈➤C/W: mentions of death, suicide, cursing, age gap, mild violence, issues with infertility, slight sexual themes.
ᯓ★ mdni.ᐟ
ᯓ★word count: 1.7k+
ᯓ★ spotify playlist link
ᯓ★ last chapter here
ᯓ★next chapter here
ᯓ★ A/N: Thank you all for the support on the last chapter. It means a lot and I hope everyone liked it :) Apologies for this chapter being shorter. I am still trying to figure out the direction of this fic but I am excited to see where it goes! Also, reply if you would like to be added to the tag list <3
✮⋆˙ The sun peaking through navy curtains blinds Logan. He wasn't much of a morning person compared to his peers. It's not like he got much sleep anyway. Most nights, he lays awake smoking a cigar or drinking a beer while trying to fight off his tiredness. Nightmares plagued his mind constantly. Often varying between ones of Stryker's torture or a mission gone wrong. Logan knew in the back of his mind that none of it was happening but that didn't stop them from appearing.
By ten most of the students had cleared out of the cafeteria after breakfast. Logan heads downstairs to get whatever is left over when he sees Rogue sitting alone, staring out one of the windows into the courtyard.
"How you doin', kid?" Logan asked, taking a seat across from her.
"Good, you?" Rogue's head turns to acknowledge him.
"Fine," Logan mumbles, taking a bite from an apple.
Rogue examines him for a moment. Logan's cold exterior was nothing new for the teenage girl, but his furrowed brows and low grunts led her to believe something was wrong.
"You don't seem fine." She quips, only receiving a glare in response. "Alright, I guess you're fine."
Her attention turned back to the courtyard. Logan's eyes followed hers until they landed in the garden. Storm and Daphne sat on one of the benches together. Charles must've wanted someone to give her a tour, Logan thought. He doesn't fail to notice his flannel draped over Daphne; unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to her mid-forearm. If Rogue noticed the familiar-looking flannel, she didn't mention it.
"The new girl is pretty." Rogue states as if it is solely fact and not an opinion.
Logan only offers a grunt in response. He couldn't deny that Daphne's beauty was obvious. She didn't need magic to make people believe it.
"Everyone thinks so..." Rogue continues on. "especially the boys."
Logan wanted to laugh at the thought of any of the boys attempting to approach Daphne. Not only would she intimidate them shitless; she seemed like she could put up a fight without having to rely on her powers.
"Bobby overheard Dr. Grey mention that the new girl's powers are strong. Is it true?" The teenager's eyes light up with interest.
Logan hesitates then says, "Yeah, they are."
"She said the girl can make you feel agonizing pain. Dr. Grey said it was miserable. Did she hurt you at all?"
The last thing that Logan wanted to do was have Daphne come across as some scary mad woman who hurts people for laughs.
"She used her powers, yes," Logan quickly added, "But Daphne was startled and didn't remember anything."
Rogue nods understandably.
"Was it bad?"
"I've felt worse pain."
──★
After Storm's tour of the school, Daphne heads back to her room. Classes were in session on the other wing of the mansion. Everyone seemed busy with their daily routines as they passed her by. Halfway down the hall, she felt a light glove-covered hand tap on her shoulder. When Daphne turns around, she sees a girl with blonde stripes in the front of her hair.
"Hi, I'm Rogue." The girl introduces herself with a small smile. "You're Daphne, right?"
"Yeah," Daphne responds, caught off guard.
"Could we talk?"
The two girls sit in one of the common rooms together. Daphne was shocked by how comfortable Rogue seemed around her. Surely by now, they would have warned the students about her, Daphne would've thought.
"Logan pulled you from the lake yesterday, right?" Rogue asked despite already knowing the answer.
It was the biggest gossip the school has had in a while. Could you blame them? Logan practically busted through the doors, yelling for the professor. The classes were interrupted, everyone trying to peek out the door and into the hallway to get a glimpse of the woman in his arms. No one had even heard from Logan in months. The last anyone knew he took off with Cyclops motorcycle and now he has returned holding a stranger.
"He did." Daphne nods. "I'm still not quite sure why, but I am thankful nonetheless."
"Logan is a good guy behind that 'big bad wolf' thing he has going on," Rogue says to ease Daphne. It works.
"I thought it was more of a kitten look than a wolf." She jokes, causing both of them to laugh.
"He kinda saved me too a while ago." Rogue finally tells Daphne. "I had just discovered my mutation; it put someone I cared about in the hospital. So, I ran away. Logan was a cage fighter when we met. I needed a ride and hopped into his trunk until he found me."
Daphne tried to imagine a slightly younger and scared version of Rogue going to a man like Logan for safety. She wondered what led the teenage girl to run away in the first place.
"Cage fighter?" Daphne questioned, trying to ignore the heat rising within her.
Rogue nods.
Interesting.
"I guess what I am trying to say is that I know what it's like to have people be afraid of you." The girl's tone was sorrowing as she removed one of her gloves. "To avoid others because of the possibility of putting them in danger. All it takes is one touch or one look, and their lives could be destroyed. It's not fair."
Daphne had never met another mutant who understood that. A small weight was lifted from her shoulders at the younger girl's words.
"Not fair indeed," Daphne whispers under her breath. "I know what it's like to destroy lives..."
Rogue hesitated before asking, "What happened?"
"There was a guy, one of the guards in charge of me, and over the years, he became the only person I could trust and they knew that," Daphne explained. "One day, they killed him unless I wiped out an entire town of people. So, I did it and in the end, it didn't even matter because they shot him in front of me."
Even after all these years, her heart still breaks at the memory of his lifeless and bloody body hitting the floor; all the people she killed in hopes of saving the man she loved. All of it for nothing.
"Perhaps it was for the best..." Daphne said quietly. "Not everyone gets a soulmate."
"There's still hope," Rogue shrugs. "You never know."
Daphne lets out a small choked laugh at the girl's optimism.
"They cursed me, dear. No one will want to get too close to me. It's in my nature to hurt them."
──★
Later that evening, Daphne finds herself down in the library. It's empty, allowing her some time alone. She wanders around, pulling books from the shelves. While locked away, she was allowed to read in her spare time. One of her limited freedoms. Luckily for her, no one came to bother her for hours.
As time passed by her so did nightfall. Daphne enjoyed the quiet corner of the mansion as she avoided the other mutants living there. Not that any of them were unfriendly, far from it. She didn't see the need to grow attached to another false reality.
Daphne's eyes slowly weigh down as they skim across the pages. It wasn't even midnight yet. She could still hear the others walking by or talking in the hallway. When the door creaked open, she jumped from her chair.
"Oh! Sorry! I didn't know someone was in here." A male voice says from the other end of the room.
"I was just leaving," Daphne responded, shoving the book she was reading under her arm.
The man came into view, tall, dark-haired, and sporting a pair of what looked like sunglasses. He had this boyish look about himself, unlike Logan who was practically an animal.
"No, stay! Please." He insisted, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Just returning something I borrowed from the professor."
Daphne hesitated before letting out a soft, "Okay."
He smiles and moves closer to her.
"I'm Scott." He said, introducing himself and extending his hand to her.
"Daphne."
"Pretty name."
Scott already knew who she was; having seen Jean run off to help Logan when he brought Daphne to the school. He also knew how much it would annoy Logan if he got close to her. Scott didn't like Logan from the moment they met; always seeing him as a potential threat to his relationship with Jean. It was undeniable how Logan felt about Jean, Scott thought. It's how he looked at her, talked to her, managed to get her alone; it was all to get under Scott's skin.
Now it was time for Scott to get under Logan's skin.
"How are you liking it here so far?" Scott asked, resting against one of the bookcases.
"It's nicer than a tiny cabin in the woods but a little too nice for a girl like me." She replies flirtatiously, Scott thinks.
Daphne could see right past his façade. He didn't actually want to know her. The only way she's survived is by staying one step ahead.
"A girl like you?"
"Trouble."
Scott can't fight the smirk creeping up on his lips.
"I don't believe that you are trouble."
"Oh, really?" Daphne giggles, eyes sparkling red.
Suddenly, Scott falls to his knees in front of her; holding his head and groaning in pain. It wasn't nearly the strongest she could go but it was enough to get her point across.
"Believe me now?" She smiles, releasing him. Maybe she was perfect for Logan, Scott thought as he watched her leave.
──★
11:28 am.
Logan's lying in bed, a cigar between his lips, and alone with his thoughts yet again. All day he wanted to check on her. God, he didn't even want to say her name. Barely two days and she's consumed his thoughts entirely and love wasn't something Logan believed in. He thought that if he stayed away or left again at the end of the week, he would be able to free himself from her restraints. She needed this support system more than he did. She deserves someone who actually gave a shit about her.
Talk to her, Logan.
He knew exactly who that annoying voice belonged to.
Get out of my head, Charles.
As soon as Logan didn't feel Charles's presence anymore, his thoughts returned to her. The only time he saw her today she was wearing his flannel, leaving her sweet scent to embed itself in the material. He wanted to feel her clinging to him again; needing him.
If you want me to stay out of your head, stop thinking so loudly.
Logan hated mind readers.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
tags: @marcybug @bethexo07
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neo-nomatrix · 2 years ago
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Rule No. 19
never fall in love with the same person twice, the second time you’ll be falling in love with the memories not the person.
Miguel O’hara x reader
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word count: 1056
synopsis: You were Miguel’s wife in another universe and he just can’t come to terms that you’re not his.
a/n: i know a lot of people are asking for part twos of my other stories but i just can’t think of anything 😭
Your death was a horrible day for Miguel. He easily blamed himself for what had happened to you. Shot twice by a random mugger off the side of the street. And he, Spiderman of all people, couldn't save you. How could he even call himself a hero after that? He held your lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms with the incident.
Miguel wouldn’t allow your killer to get away. Chasing him down the block, cornering him in an alley and slowly, almost torturing, beat the life out of him. Miguel tore at his skin with his claws, used all his strength to break his teeth, and practically ripped off the man’s hand from the wrist.
Miguel so desperately wanted him to feel pain he would do anything. But that wouldn’t bring you back, and he knew that.
Miguel had fallen in love with you for many reasons. You were beautiful, smart, funny, and the kindest person he had ever met. He knew that if you saw the person he was now you would not have fallen in love with him. When he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t see the man he once was, he doesn’t see the man you loved but a distorted ugly image of that man.
He knew he had changed for the worse but truthfully he didn’t care. If changing meant he got what he was after he didn’t care how it made him look.
The first time Miguel found you in another universe he was ecstatic. You had a family, a beautiful daughter and a life worth being a part of. “Your” Miguel had recently died and he thought he could replace him.
“Oh, I'm so glad you’re home. I was starting to get worried,” You kissed your husband as he walked through the door.
“Im here,” Miguel whispered as a response.
He didn’t know what to do. You were there, in front of him. Alive.
He pulled you in for the strongest kiss he had ever given you. You were slightly shocked but melted into the kiss with such love. Failing to see the tears building up in his eyes.
You were happy, so happy. Until the day it all came crashing down on him. Your world started to collapse within itself, Miguel felt like Atlas trying to hold up the universe on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. Running from an inescapable situation with you and your daughter. You fell to your knees as you were running. You were glitching. Slowly, in the most painful way he could imagine both you and your daughter disappeared from his arms.
For the second time Miguel lost you, and it was his fault. From then on he vowed to only watch you from afar.
“She isn’t yours, Miguel,” Jess reminded him for what? the tenth time today?
“I know that Jess,” he practically rolled his eyes at her.
“Y’know it’s creepy. You’re basically stalking this girl who has no idea you exist. There are just some things you have to let go,” She offers her advice.
Miguel clenches his jaw at her words.
“I don’t need a therapist, alright? I’m fine dealing with this,” he says.
He’s had enough of Jess and her advice for today. Even though he won’t let himself interfere he can’t help but watch you from the rooftops. He agrees that it’s creepy but he can’t let anything else bad happen to you, he just can’t.
From everything telling him not to, he swings down to try and get closer to you. He enters the coffee shop you just went into. He doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here behind you in the long line. It’s not right. He’s about to turn before he’s greeted with your sweet voice. Your voice that sounds like honey and all the good things on this planet and the next.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering what you usually order? I’ve never been here before and I'm sort of lost,” you giggle. God, he could melt on the spot.
He knows you're lying, of course. He’s seen you in here more times than he can count. And you always get the same exact thing, every single time. In fact, you refuse to get anything different. He wants to believe you’re asking him as a way to flirt but he can’t get attached, not again.
“Oh uhm, i usually get their vienna latte,” His eyes flick up to the first thing on their menu, never having gone to this shop himself.
“And then their bear claw,” if there’s one thing he noticed about you it’s that in every universe you love a bear claw with your drink.
“Great! I’ll get that then!” You smile happily as the barista asks for the next person in line.
He didn’t realize how in love with you he really was until he spoke to you all these years later.
“Do you maybe want to sit down together? I know a park nearby,” You approach him after both of you have gotten your drinks.
“I’d…” he trails off remembering Jess’ words. He can’t, he shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. “I don’t think I can. I’m really sorry,” he feels horrible after seeing the look on your face. He wants to crumble up into a million pieces seeing you disappointed like that.
“No worries then. It’s okay,” you smile kindly at him. A clear tinge of sadness in your voice.
You walk off leaving him there unsure of his choice. Would one conversation really do anything? Would it tear the world apart like last time? Was he willing to risk it just to talk to you again?
The truth was yes, he was absolutely willing to risk everything for the chance to have you fall in love with him again. But he couldn’t do that to you. He stands there, heartbroken for a third time.
Even though he loves you he’s well aware you’re not his, not really. He knows that if he were to fall in love with this version of you it would be compensation for what he had lost. He would simply be trying to recreate something he couldn’t have.
Miguel loves you, but he can’t have you.
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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 days ago
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The Top Shelf - Jack Daniels X Female Reader
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Title: The Top Shelf
Jack Daniels X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Ginger, Tequila (Mentioned), and Champ (Mentioned)
WC: 5,707
Warnings: Short Reader (mentioned to be below the average height for a woman), Kingsman canon violence mentioned (ie. killing/death), cursing, italics, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, Jack being Jack, jealousy, age gap very briefly mentioned, suggestive, slight angst, and fluff
You were going to kill whoever put your special snack on the top shelf. Actually, maybe you would torture them a bit first. Everyone in Statesman knew you couldn’t reach the high shelves, they knew that you had your own special cupboard to hide your snacks, and yet, your stuff somehow made its way to the top shelf. You knew you didn’t put them up there. 
Now, standing in the kitchen, staring up at the top shelf, you glared at it; all the while, you were thinking about all the possible weapons you could use to cause harm on the person responsible. You were short, pretty short. You were below the average height for a woman, and you were mighty proud of it. Most people, mostly when you were still in school, would always say how lucky they were to be tall. 
“Oh, I can reach things easier.”
“I can see easier in crowds.”
“I am the perfect height to be a model.”
Ugh. It was annoying as hell. There were a lot of things that you could do too. You could make your way through crowds easier, sliding through gaps. You got a lot more leg room in cars and planes. You could fit into smaller spaces; which oddly helped in your line of work. And you were often seen as less intimidating in social situations, which definitely helped in your line of work. 
Being short was amazing, but not when people actively tried to make it harder for you. 
And so, here you were, arms crossed as you tried to make up your mind on how you were going to get your favorite snack. You had three options. One; grab a chair or stool. Two; climb the counter and stand on it to reach. Or, three; ask for help. And you were not going to ask for help. You liked most of your co-workers, but you were a grown-ass woman - strong and independent - and you didn’t need help. 
But, it seemed that fate - or destiny - was going to delay your snack time. 
“You need any help, sugar?” You heard the deep, smooth southern voice behind you, and you immediately sighed. Even though you drank two cups of coffee that morning, his presence always made you oddly exhausted. 
Turning around, you frowned, staring up at the man who had that stupid grin on his face. “No, I do not need help, Whiskey.”
The cowboy raised an eyebrow, eyes lifting to your snack and back down to you, “Are you sure?” He placed his hands on his hips, jutting out a hip, “I could grab that for you, if you want.”
You mimicked him, jutting out your own hip, your eyes narrowing, “No, thank you, Whiskey. I can get it on my own.”
Whiskey raised both his hands up in the air in defence before backing away, making you sigh and turn back around. 
You huffed, biting your bottom lip as you started at the shelf. Maybe if you jumped just right, you could knock the damn thing down. Or if you really committed to climbing the counter… No… After the day you had? A grueling mission, a headache that wouldn’t quit… No, maybe it would be best to ask someone for help. Not from Whiskey or Tequila, but maybe Ginger would help you. You two were very close, so you doubted that she wouldn’t help.
With a spin, you turned around, planning to leave to seek out Ginger, but you jumped, letting out a squeak. 
Jack- Whiskey was still there.
Leaning against the entrance way, his arms were crossed over his broad chest. That stupid smirk of his hadn’t faded, either. Jack’s smirk only widened, having the gall to look you up and down.
“Why are you still here?” You asked, crossing your arms again.
He didn’t miss a beat, “Enjoyin’ the view.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You’re insufferable.” You moved, slipping past him, muttering out an ‘I hate you,’ for good measure, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Mm,” He hummed, tilting his head as he watched you go, “You love me, sugar.”
You ignored him, forcing yourself to keep walking down the hall. Except, despite your best efforts, your mind drifted back to him. God, you loathed him. Him with his perfect body, perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect eyes, perfect voice, perfect- ugh. You hated him. 
Ever since you started at Statesman, Whiskey - or Jack, as he told you that you could call him, but you never did - spent a lot of time with you. He’d seek you out sometimes, just to ask a dumb question that either Ginger or Champ could answer. He’d talk to you the most outside of missions, and even during missions, and by ‘talk,’ you meant flirt. He was such a damn flirt. It wasn’t just the smirks or the innuendos. It was the way he always made you the center of his attention. The way his voice dropped just a little lower when he spoke to you, and just you. The way he’d look at you like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
And maybe, just maybe, that was the worst part.
Not to mention that, despite being so… Flirtatious with you, he would always stay a gentleman. He wouldn’t push things too far. He wouldn’t make you genuinely uncomfortable. For all his teasing and smooth-talking, there was a line he never crossed. Jack Daniels could be a cocky bastard, sure - but he was also a gentleman. And maybe that was what irritated you the most. Because if he was just another flirt with no sense of boundaries, you could dismiss him. You could roll your eyes, scoff, and walk away without a second thought.
But no. He had to be charming. He had to be kind. He had to have that damn Southern drawl that made your name sound sweeter than honey. And worst of all?
He had to make you like him.
And sometimes, you wished you could just have a real conversation with him. No flirting. No smirks. No subtle innuendos. No trying to get you all flustered. Just a real talk. But with Jack Daniels? With Agent Whiskey? That seemed damn near impossible.
You pushed open the door to the tech lab, stepping inside to find Ginger working away at her station, fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease. She didn’t look up as you fully entered, too focused on whatever complicated codes or systems she was working on.
With a dramatic sigh, you made your way to an empty chair - one of the spinny ones, thankfully - and all but collapsed into it, giving yourself a slow, lazy spin. At that, the corners of Ginger’s lips quirked up in amusement, though she still didn’t glance away from her screen.
You never really understood high-tech or coding. It just wasn’t your thing. Yeah, you were pretty good on a phone or computer. You did the basics and even a few tricks you picked up through the years. You could even use a fax machine, but you liked being in the action, doing the fieldwork, bringing justice. You left the screens and wires to Ginger, trusting that whatever magic she worked back here kept you alive out there.
Slouching slightly, you swayed the chair side to side, another softer sigh slipping past your lips. 
Finally, Ginger spoke. 
“Bad day?” She asked, a knowing lilt to her voice. 
You sighed again, “You have no idea.”
“I kind of do,” Her grin widened, “I was watching over you and your mission this morning.”
“Yeah, yeah…” You muttered tiredly.
Ginger hummed, still typing away, “Whiskey?”
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you gave the chair one last spin. “...Yeah.”
Ginger finally stopped typing, finding a stopping point, and turning in her chair to face you as you lazily pushed your chair with your feet, rolling yourself closer until you were right beside her. She studied you for a moment, clearly amused but also curious.
“What’d he do this time?” She asked.
You huffed, leaning forward against the desk, resting your elbow on it and pressing your cheek into the palm of your hand. “He was just being himself today,” You muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion. “Flirting, smirking, calling me ‘sugar’ like it’s his damn job.” Ginger snorted, waiting for you to continue. You sighed again. “Honestly? I’m more pissed about something else.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, intrigued. “Oh? Was it Tequila?”
“No, not him,” You sat up a little, frowning, “I went to the kitchen to grab a snack, right? But when I got there, it was on the top shelf. My special snack. The one that I always keep in my cupboard. 
Ginger’s lips twitched, and you could tell that she was trying not to laugh.
“And?”
“And I can’t reach it,” You grumbled, flopping back against the chair, “I swear, not being able to have my snack was more annoying than Whiskey today.”
At that, Ginger actually laughed, shaking her head. “Now that’s saying something.”
You nodded, pursing your lips as you began slightly turning the chair again. Ginger knew about your… Situation with Whiskey. You wouldn’t say everyone knew, but occasionally, Tequila would throw out some comment about how Whiskey was like your loyal puppy, always following you around, eager for your attention. It was annoying. And mostly untrue.
Mostly. 
But Ginger? Ginger knew. And, more importantly, she knew about the part you refused to admit out loud - the part where, despite all of your frustration, all of the teasing and bickering, you were attracted to the older man. You trusted Ginger. With your life - both figuratively and literally. You knew whatever you said here, in the privacy of her tech lab, would never leave the room.
And yeah, she teased you sometimes. Tired to nudge you toward saying something to Whiskey instead of just glaring at him across the room or table during mission briefings. But she never pushed too hard. She knew when to joke and when to let you be. 
“You know,” She trailed off, “I could always call Whiskey in here to help you with your snack problem…”
You only groaned, letting your head drop onto the desk. “Ginger. No.” You answered, your voice muffled from your arms. 
You lifted your head just enough to give Ginger your best pout, eyes wide and pleading. “That’s why I came to you,” You said, “I was hoping you’d be a dear and grab it for me.”
“And why can’t you just ask Whiskey for help?”
You groaned again, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Ginger, I know you are just pulling my leg, but come on! You are missing the point!” You sat up straighter, launching into a full-on rant. “If I ask him, then he’s gonna tease the ever-loving crap out of me. He’ll say something about how he’d love to help me out or some other nonsense that’ll make my cheeks all hot, which is annoying! And then, if I let him help, not only will his ego grow, but the next time this happens - god forbid - he’s gonna make it a huge thing!” You gestured kind of wildly. “Like, ‘Oh, need my help again, sugar?’ or ‘I think you just like havin’ me around, sweetheart.’” You mimicked his voice, lowering your own and adding his Southern accent on it. “And I know he’s the one putting my snacks up there in the first place, just to mess with me!” You let out a deep breath when you finally finished rambling, your arms falling limp at your sides. Ginger blinked at you, lips twitching, clearly holding back some laughter.
“... Alright, alright,” She relented, shaking her head, “I’ll help you.”
You let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a lifesaver, Ginger,” You said, standing up as she did.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” She teased, nudging your shoulder as you both exited the lab. As you walked side by side down the hall, Ginger glanced down at you, “So, what’s this snack, anyway?”
You perked up slightly, “My jumbo family-size bag of chips - my favorite flavor,” You emphasized, “I just got them last time I went out, and I’ve been dying for the right day to open them up.” You sighed wistfully, already picturing the evening ahead. “And tonight is the night. After I get my chips, all I want to do is go to my room, collapse on my bed, cuddle up with my favorite blanket, and put on my favorite movie.”
Ginger hummed in approval, “Solid plan.” As you neared the kitchen, she glanced at you again. “So… Aside from Whiskey, who do you think would’ve put your snack up there?”
You shrugged, “If it wasn’t him, then it was Tequila.” But as you turned the corner into the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks. There, sitting right on the counter, were your chips. Someone had pulled them down for you. Your brows furrowed as you slowly stepped forward, staring at the bag.
“Huh.” Ginger stopped beside you.
You glanced around, as if expecting someone to jump out, but the kitchen was empty.
“…Weird,” You muttered, reaching out to grab the bag. You stared down at the chip bag in your hands, your eyes narrowed in suspicion. Your eyebrows furrowed as your lips pressed into a tight line. Ginger, who had casually leaned against the fridge, tilted her head as she observed you.
“You know who would’ve pulled it down for you?” She asked, a knowing look in her eyes.
You tilted your head, eyes still fixed on the bag as you sighed. “I might have a clue,” You muttered, clearly still trying to wrap your head around the situation. “Thanks, Ginger,” You added, flashing her a small smile as you turned to leave. “Have a goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
As you walked down the hallway, the weight of your thoughts started to sink in, and just like that, Whiskey’s presence seemed to take over your mind once more. For the millionth time today, he invaded your thoughts. It was almost impossible not to think about him - his smirk, the teasing tone of his voice, the way he always seemed to know just what to say to get under your skin. 
You weren’t entirely sure if it was him who had pulled the chips down for you. But Whiskey was the only person who knew you had been eyeing that snack that was too high up to reach.
It frustrated you - more than you were willing to admit. Why couldn’t you just hate him, like you always claimed? You stopped in your tracks for a moment, letting out a frustrated sigh. You were finding it more and more difficult to pretend you hated him and it was becoming a problem. It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. But here you were. 
~~~
Does this person know that you have plans on killing them?
You stared up at the top shelf, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. Once again, your snacks had been moved. This time, it was your candy.
It had been a couple of days since the chip incident, and now you were starting to wonder if this was a full-fledged conspiracy. At this point, you were getting really annoyed. Maybe it was time to just keep all your snacks in your room and save yourself the trouble.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turned around, already planning to find Ginger and ask for help again - only to nearly jump out of your skin. Whiskey stood there, leaning casually against the counter with that infuriatingly smug grin.
You slapped a hand over your beating heart, glaring up at him. “God, stop doing that,” You huffed.
His grin widened. “Darlin’, I figured you, of all people, would’ve known I was standin’ here. Ain’t you supposed to be a top-tier agent?”
You rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve been too busy trying to figure out who the hell keeps moving my snacks.” You raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who’d do such a thing, would you?”
Whiskey shook his head, an innocent smile stretching across his face. “No clue, sweetheart.”
Liar.
You didn’t believe him for a second, but before you could call him out, he casually strolled past you, making his way to the coffee maker.
And that’s when your brain short-circuited. Your eyes followed him instinctively, trailing down as he moved. The way his jeans fit - God help you - was downright unfair. Your mind screamed at you to stop staring, to look away, to get a grip. But your heart? Your heart was having a much harder time listening. Hell, it was only fair for you to stare at him. He stared at you all the time and teased you relentlessly about it. Turnabout was fair play, right?
Your gaze lingered a moment longer before you quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t caught you. But, of course, you weren’t that lucky.
“You keep lookin’ at me like that, sugar, and I’m gonna start thinkin’ you like what you see,” Whiskey drawled, amusement dripping from his voice as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Your eyes snapped back to his face, heat creeping up your neck when you saw him already looking at you. “I was not looking at you.”
Whiskey took a slow sip of his coffee, smirking over the rim of his mug. “Oh, darlin’… Don’t lie to me.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes again. “I hate you.”
Whiskey leaned against the counter opposite of you, sipping his coffee with that smirk still in place. “Sure you do, baby.”
“‘Baby?’ That one’s new.” You turned away from him, trying your best to ignore him as you glared up at your candy, still annoyingly out of reach. You really didn’t want to trek all the way to Ginger’s lab again, only for the candy to somehow miraculously appear on the counter like last time. You felt bad dragging her all the way here just for her help when it hadn’t even been necessary.
With a deep, resigned sigh, you finally muttered in stubborn defeat, “Whiskey… Can you help me?” 
You didn’t have to look at him to know his grin widened. You heard it in the smug silence that stretched out before you heard the quiet clink of his coffee mug being set down. Then came the slow, deliberate footsteps. You barely had time to react before his presence pressed close. Your breath hitched as his chest brushing against your back, the warmth of him seeping through your clothes. One of his hands curled around your upper arm as he reached up with the other, easily plucking your candy from the top shelf. And just as quickly, he moved away, his hip bumping against the counter as he leaned against it, looking down at you with that insufferable, satisfied grin.
“Here ya go, darlin’,” He drawled, holding out the bag - only to pop a piece of candy into his mouth before handing it over.
You gaped at him. “Hey!”
He winked. “Payment.”
And with that, he sauntered off, whistling as he went, leaving you standing there, your face burning hotter than a furnace. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, your body still tense from the lingering warmth of him. Pressing your back against the counter, you gripped the edge with both hands, your fingers curling tightly around it as if that would somehow ground you.
Why did he have to make things so complicated?
Your heart was still racing, your face still hot, and your breathing was irregular. Snapping your head toward the kitchen doorway, you shouted, “I still hate you!”
There was a beat of silence before his voice rang back down the hall, smooth and teasing-
“Liar.”
Your grip tightened on the counter as you clenched your jaw, staring after him.
That man was going to be the death of you.
~~~
It had been a long mission. A draining one.
All you wanted to do was grab something to eat, lock yourself in your room, and not emerge for the rest of the day. You weren’t needed for anything else, and your mission paperwork? That could be done just as easily from the comfort of your bed. You were exhausted, body aching, but if you were being honest, that wasn’t the only reason you were in such a sour mood.
No, that had everything to do with Whiskey. Normally, working with him wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sure, he was insufferable, always teasing, always finding new ways to get under your skin, but you could usually go about your job, ignoring him to an extent. But this mission? This mission had made that almost impossible.
It was difficult enough, requiring both of you to be at the top of your game. You had gotten the information you needed - you sneaking in to grab the hard drive while Whiskey ran his distraction. And it had worked. Flawlessly.
Except… It was his distraction that left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You never thought it would bother you. Not really. But watching him turn on the charm, flashing that signature smirk, whispering sweet nothings into some stranger woman’s ear, touching them so casually, so easily-
You had no right to be upset. It was just a mission. And yet, you were upset.  But, green was not a pretty color on you. 
You stood there, staring up at the top shelf in the kitchen, your gaze fixed on the bag of chips that had been placed there again. For the third time in a row. It wasn’t just the chips. It wasn’t about the bag of snacks at all, really. It was about everything else. The mission. The way Whiskey had acted. The way he always acted, and the way you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. Your mind was tangled in a mess of frustration, jealousy, and... Something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
You stood there, frozen, staring at the chips, replaying the mission again and again in your head. You were so lost in your head, so absorbed by your own swirling emotions, that you didn’t even hear Whiskey enter the room. His humming filled the space briefly, but it faded as soon as he saw you.
He stopped, his head tilting to the side as his gaze fell on you, his eyes narrowing as he observed your face. He stood there for a moment, studying you. "Need some help?" He asked, voice light, teasing.
You didn’t even look at him. “No.” The word came out softer than you intended.
Whiskey’s grin faltered, and he took a step forward. His brows furrowed as he approached, now genuinely concerned. “You okay?”
You didn’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the top shelf. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel his eyes on you. You almost wished he would say something - tease you, make it light again - but instead, he stayed silent, waiting for you to speak.
But you didn’t. You didn’t know what to say.
Whiskey took a step closer, moving with that familiar, confident grace. He found his spot where he had stood just days ago - his side pressed against the counter, just a foot or so away from you, his presence still as intimidating as it was comforting. His eyes were trained on you, no longer teasing, but genuine concern written across his face.
“Want to talk about it, sugar?” He asked, his voice low as his hand reached up, fingers brushing against a few strands of your hair, tucking it gently behind your ear. “Might help.”
You took a step back. All the weeks of frustration - the teasing, the confusion, the ridiculous tension that hung between you two - came rushing to the surface. You couldn’t stop it. “Can you just stop teasing me all the time?” You blurted, shaking your head. “It’s not fair that you always play with my feelings like this.” Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You’re always messing with me, making me question everything - whether you care or not. And I-” You cut yourself off, you had already said a bit too much.
You expected him to laugh it off, maybe smirk. But instead, Whiskey’s expression shifted. His eyes softened for a split second before they hardened, and in one swift motion, he stepped forward, his hands landing on your waist. Without warning, he lifted you, effortlessly placing you onto the counter in front of him.
Your hands instinctively landed on his shoulders, gripping them for stability, but as soon as you were placed on the counter, your palms dropped to your lap, your body frozen in surprise. Your heart raced as you stared up at him, eyes wide, and your breath caught in your throat. He was right there, so close you could feel the heat of his body. His face was a mere foot from yours, his expression less playful and more serious than you had ever seen. And his eyes, so dark, like chocolate, they were searching, confused.
His small frown deepened, his eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean I don’t care?” Whiskey asked, his voice soft but firm.
For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, caught between wanting to push him away and feeling an overwhelming urge to pull him closer. Your mouth felt dry, the words stuck in your throat. 
You opened your mouth, but it was like the tension in the room made everything seem miles away, your thoughts jumbled. You ignored his earlier question, focusing instead on what had been eating at you. “Then why do you tease me so much?” Your voice was quieter this time, but the frustration still seeped through. "If this was all some kind of game-"
“You think I’m playin’ a game with you?” He cut you off before you could finish, his voice low and serious, with an edge that made you freeze. You nodded, your eyes dropping to your hands in your lap. “Look at me.” His voice was firm, insistent. Slowly, reluctantly, you did. “I ain’t playin’ with you,” Whiskey said, his tone softer now but no less intense. His hands moved to the counter beside you, leaning in close, effectively caging you in. “And I never have been.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, heart racing. Was he serious? Was he telling the truth? You couldn’t think, couldn’t move, but everything inside you screamed to reach for him. To believe him. But you were still afraid. You dropped your gaze, unable to hold his stare any longer. But he wasn’t having that.
Whiskey moved closer as he raised a hand, tugging his cowboy hat off and tossing it onto the counter beside you without a second thought. His fingers brushed along your skin as he reached for your chin, gently tilting your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze searched yours, his fingers barely grazing along your jawline. He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, before his voice filled the space between you.
“Sugar, if you think for one damn second that I don’t mean every word I say to you, then you don’t know me half as well as I thought.” His fingers trailed along your cheek, “I tease you ‘cause I like seein’ you all riled up, yeah. But I sure as hell ain’t playin’ with you. I do care.” He sighed deeply, “You got me all twisted up, darlin’. And I don’t know what else I gotta do to prove it to you.”
His confession hung heavy in the air, settling deep in your chest. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t teasing - this was real. And it scared you more than anything.
You swallowed hard, a tiny sigh escaped your lips before you muttered, barely above a whisper, “I hate you.”
Whiskey’s lips twitched, the smallest hint of a smile appearing as he shook his head. “No, you don’t,” He said, his voice softer now, steady.
His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his touch lingering, sending a shiver down your spine. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. But he didn’t close the distance - he stopped just short. You couldn’t look away. His eyes held you, drawing you in. Every breath you took seemed to sync with his, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.
Nervously, your hand slid to his on the counter, “Jack,” The sound of it barely escaping your lips.
He let you a shaky breath at the sound, so sweet from your lips. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, his hand moving to fully cup your cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing along your skin; his hand on the counter moved, resting on your waist. His gaze flickered down to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t.
The moment his plush lips pressed against yours, a shiver ran down your spine. The kiss was slow at first, testing, his lips moving against yours with a softness that sent your heart hammering against your ribs. A sigh escaped you, your eyelashes fluttering along your cheeks as your hands instinctively slid up his shoulders, wrapping around his neck. Your fingers found their way into the hair at the nape of his neck, threading through the soft strands before giving a gentle tug.
Jack let out a low, guttural grunt, the sound vibrating against your lips. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His other hand slid along your jaw, fingers curling around the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your pulse - where your heartbeat pounded wildly beneath his touch. The kiss was breathtaking. Dizzying. It stole the air right from your lungs, leaving you lightheaded in the best way possible. His lips moved against yours with a maddening mixture of tenderness and intensity, like he’d been waiting for this - aching for it - just as much as you had.
A soft whimper escaped you before you could stop it, your body pressing closer to his instinctively. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging once more, and Jack groaned against your mouth, his grip on you tightening; swallowing every tiny sound you made like he needed them to breathe. Your legs parted slightly where you sat on the counter, and Jack took full advantage, stepping between them, his hand on your waist sliding down to your hip, thumb brushing over the exposed skin just above your waistband. His lips trailed over your bottom lip, teasing, before he stole another deep, lingering kiss, his breath mixing with yours, making your head spin.
His lips brushed against yours one last time before he pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His breath was heavy, warm, fanning over your lips as his thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your hip. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of what just happened settled between you, thick and undeniable. Jack’s eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, before the corner of his lips curled into the faintest smirk.
“Well, sweetheart,” He murmured, his voice husky, still laced with the remnants of the kiss. “That sure didn’t feel like hate.”
You let out a small huff, still feeling quite breathless. Before you could say anything back, Jack’s hands found your waist again, his grip firm yet gentle as he effortlessly lifted you off the counter, setting you on your feet. The warmth of his touch lingering even after he let go. Wordlessly, he reached up and grabbed your bag of chips from the top shelf, handing them to you with an easy smirk.
Then, he casually asked, “Feel like hittin’ up a diner with me tonight?”
You stared at him for a moment, still reeling from everything that had just happened. Your heart was racing, your lips warm and tingling, and now he was asking you to dinner like it was nothing? Like he hadn’t just kissed you breathless?
You clutched the bag of chips to your chest, exhaling through your nose. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Jack just grinned, tilting his head. “That a yes, sugar?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Yeah… It’s a yes.”
His grin widened, pure satisfaction flashing in his eyes. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” You scoffed, smacking his arm lightly before turning away. As you left the kitchen, Jack’s voice rang out behind you. “I’ll pick you up at six!”
You glanced over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your own lips. “Don’t be late!”
He just chuckled, his voice muffled as you turned the corner and practically speed-walked down the hall. The excitement from the kiss still buzzed in your veins, making your steps feel light and fast. You reached your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft thud. For a moment, you just stood there, leaning against the door, your heart still racing. You pressed your fingers to your lips, replaying the kiss in your mind. A soft, almost giddy giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it.
Meanwhile, Jack stood in the kitchen, hands on his hips, a smile on his face. He stared at the floor for a moment. Then, his eyes flicked up to the top shelf, and with a mischievous grin, he walked over to your cupboard. With a smooth motion, he grabbed your fruit snack box and placed it high up on the shelf. Picking up his cowboy hat from the counter, he placed it back on his head. With a final glance toward the doorway you had disappeared through, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“Damn,” He muttered to himself, running a hand over his jaw before turning on his heel and striding out of the kitchen.
Six o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
~~~
Main Masterlist | Kingsman Masterlist
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dinarosie · 7 months ago
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Beyond the Fan Theories: Insights from J.K. Rowling’s
I see bizarre fan theories and headcanons about Severus Snape every day that never happened in the books. The problem is, these headcanons are repeated so often that some Harry Potter fans believe them and forget that they are just fan fiction and not the truth. Therefore, I am sharing this old interview with Rowling to remind of some facts.
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1. Like many insecure, vulnerable people (such as Wormtail),Snape craved membership in something big and powerful, something impressive: It’s interesting that 17 years have passed since Rowling's response, yet many people still believe Snape joined the Death Eaters because he was a sadistic, racist, antisocial person who wanted to harm people and use dark magic to destroy Muggles and Muggle-borns.!!! However, the writer believes Snape's goal was not to kill and torture Muggle-borns, nor was it racism. He was a poor, insecure, and damaged youth who had never known security or peace in his life. His childhood was a nightmare, and his adolescence was filled with humiliation and bullying. He was seeking acceptance and thought that becoming a Death Eater would give him power, attractiveness, and a family that he never had. However, it is clear that these factors led him to make a big mistake.
2. He never really understood Lily's aversion: Severus Snape didn’t want to harm or retaliate against her. He was simply blinded and misled, so foolish and ignorant that he didn’t realize how deep and serious Lily’s hatred for dark magic and the Death Eaters was. He believed that becoming a Death Eater would make him so powerful and captivating that Lily would be influenced and change her beliefs, convinced that dark magic was extremely attractive, potent, and intriguing.
3. Given his time over again, he would not have become a Death Eater: This sentence shows that he has truly changed. Rowling claims that if Snape had a second chance, he would never join the Death Eaters again. Snape's genuine regret is that, starting at the age of 20, he attempted to make amends for his past actions until the time of his death. He refused to make the same mistake again, unlike Wormtail, who eagerly returned to serve Voldemort when given the opportunity.
4. Like Snape, Harry is flawed and mortal: Do those who see Snape as the story's villain and an unforgivable character understand that, in the author's opinion, Harry is also like Snape? Do they understand that Harry can be flawed and potentially harm others? Harry is never described as a saint. He tortures someone and uses unforgivable curses; he can be arrogant and aggressive while remaining brave and heroic. Snape is flawed and mortal, just like Harry. He makes many mistakes, but in the end, he remains brave and self-sacrificing, and, like Harry, he saves many people's lives.
5. James always suspected Snape harbored deeper feelings for Lily, which was a factor in James' behavior toward Snape: Listen, this is one of the reasons James Potter had for bullying Severus Snape for seven years. Please refrain from saying things like, “Snape was bullied because he joined the Death Eaters” or “because he was interested in dark magic,” as none of these reasons are canonical. These reasons belong to James Potter’s fans, not James Potter himself. The author of the book has clearly explained James Potter’s motives. James Potter just had two reasons for bullying a person for many years:
_He existed (in a way that was ugly and poor). _He was close friends with Lily Evans.
6. It was Voldemort's attempted murder of Kreacher that really turned him: Isn't a change to save a living being's life familiar? I don't understand why Snape's change for Lily's salvation is seen as demonic motivation, whereas Regulus's change for Kreacher is considered epic. Recently, in fan fiction, Regulus has become the little knight of the Black family, whose parents tortured him so much that he is forced to join the Death Eaters and then rebel against Voldemort's ideology to eradicate racism in the wizarding world. But Snape's efforts, sacrifices, loyalty, and spying over the course of 19 years are reduced to being a loser obsessed with a dead woman!!! Such double standards are embarrassing.
I'm curious: If Regulus Black were not Sirius Black's brother and not from a pureblood family, and Voldemort had killed Kreacher while Regulus survived and fought Voldemort, how would fans react to Regulus? How ridiculous would it be to say, "Oh, Regulus Black? He is simply a deviant who was obsessed with his dead elf"?
"Please do not change the characters based on personal preferences and instead see them as written. The writer uses Lily's and Kreacher's salvation as symbols of redemption to demonstrate the characters' growth and maturation. If the concept of love, loyalty, and friendship has changed over time among new generations, this is not the fault of Severus Snape."
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bonefall · 11 months ago
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Clear Sky Killed Bumble; Gray Wing's Desperate Defense
The "analysis" I've seen out there is beyond bananas. We are out there on state-of-the-art exploratory vessels, sailing the 7 seas into brand new lands, discovering new kinds of fruits to compare to the absolute lack of sanity people are displaying.
Clear Sky definitively killed Bumble. Gray Wing does not want to believe reality.
While some try to argue this death down to "negligent homicide," that Clear Sky essentially beat her unconscious and left her in an unsafe area where she got killed, that's so unlikely I'm confident in saying it's wrong. The evidence shows that Clear Sky tormented her to death with a ferocious, sadistic beating which caused her to bleed out, which is second degree murder, and used the smell of a fox and Gray Wing's blind adoration to lie his way out of consequences.
There's not a lot of ambiguity in the evidence that is presented. There is fox scent but no fox bites, and the preceding chapter provides a comparison between the wounds on Misty vs the wounds on Bumble. Clear Sky's story is so convoluted that not a single part of it makes any sense. Quite frankly it's only been topped recently by the "I can confirm this woman is evil because she snored her evil plans in their sleep" fib of ASC.
In either case, Gray Wing believes neither. He does not believe this is Clear Sky's kill in any way.
This moment is an excellent example of how Gray Wing continuously prevents anyone from taking any action against his dear brother's violence until it is too late. By convincing the moor cats to all calm down when they're rightfully furious, and treating the lives and perspectives of native cats as lesser, Gray Wing becomes complicit in some of the harm this tyrant manages to carry out.
To shield a person from the consequences of their own actions is enabling, regardless of if it's direct or indirect, wittingly or unwittingly.
We are going to go over the whole of the 26th chapter of DOTC Book 2: Thunder Rising, from Bumble's death scene to Gray Wing's downplay of it. A meticulous, step-by-step analysis.
Leading-up context
The Scene
The Immediate Response
Incredible suggestions that have been made that I had to read with my own eyes
Leading-up Context
Let's start from square one by introducing the cast, with the assumption you have not read DOTC or are just vaguely aware of it due to its reputation.
Bumble is a kittypet who regularly visits the woods without issue. She is a small supporting character in the first book, The Sun Trail, whose purpose is mostly to be a friend to Turtle Tail, who is the future wife of the main POV character, Gray Wing.
As the two girls become closer friends, Gray Wing becomes more controlling of Turtle Tail and more hostile towards Bumble. This culminates in Turtle Tail leaving "The Settlers" to live with her friend over the winter. All is idyllic until the humans adopt a third cat, known to the fandom as Tom the Wifebeater because of what happens next in Book 2; Thunder Rising.
Turtle Tail becomes pregnant, but notices that her roommates are keeping some kind of secret. She begs Bumble until she reveals that humans tend to take kittens away when they're old enough to be weaned. Turtle Tail leaves to return to the wild, and Tom the Wifebeater begins methodically torturing Bumble over the next month as punishment, leaving scratches, bruises, and "dried blood" all over her when the humans are not looking.
When Bumble tries to seek help from the moor cats, Gray Wing is frustrated that the battered woman has interrupted his walk with his new wife. It is stressed that Gray Wing hates her for taking his love interest away, and he believes she is too fat and clumsy to live in the wild. The leader of the moor cat settlers, Tall Shadow, has a hard time throwing Bumble out, until two outsiders, Wind and Gorse, who are trying to get accepted into this group themselves, take the initiative and drag Bumble back to her domestic abuser.
Gray Wing is biased against Bumble. This is a fact. He explicitly does not like her.
Shortly afterwards, the forest cat settlers, led by Gray Wing's brother Clear Sky, experience a fire and begin to expand their borders. They are already known as a violent group, their leader is a manipulative liar, and Gray Wing himself was once viciously mauled as Clear Sky sat by and watched.
Yes, Gray Wing is aware that Clear Sky sat there and watched, too. He called out to him and Clear Sky did nothing as Fox, a man who knew full well that this cat was his leader's brother, was shredding him.
Gray Wing doesn't want to believe his brother is a bad person. This is also a fact. He explicitly feels guilty when he has thoughts otherwise.
On-screen, through the POV of Gray Wing's nephew Thunder, we see a native woman named Misty slaughtered by Clear Sky for her land. Her children are taken, and her body lays unburied and rotting for two days before Wind Runner and Gorse Fur (sporting new names at the request of the moor cats) find her.
They describe the wounds they found on the corpse in detail and make an accusation,
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Now, before this point, Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have been doing everything in their power to endear themselves to this group. Gray Wing himself trusted them, because they've taught him methods for living here, caught and shared food, and even saved the life of his other brother, Jagged Peak, when a burrow collapsed on him.
But now his xenophobia towards them is coming back-- because they're calling for action against his brother. He's only ever uneasy about them when they seem to have an ounce of influence over his group.
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Turtle Tail's conclusion is completely sound, and if it hadn't been for someone else, would be correct. Clear Sky DID move to kill the children-- he was stopped by his underling, Petal. Turts was able to understand what Clear Sky was going to do without seeing it firsthand.
The crowd is shocked and furious, for logical reason. They ARE in danger. Clear Sky IS escalating his violence and expanding his territory. It's starting with the native population, and the moor cats are able to understand and predict what will happen next.
Except Gray Wing.
The Scene
While investigating ONE confirmed murder, as there is no reason to doubt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur except for conveniently xenophobic ones, and TWO suspected murders of children, the patrol hears the sudden shriek of a cat in pain.
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Bumble is found bleeding to death on a previously unclaimed patch of land, at the very center of a circle of trampled grass. There is the reeking smell of fox, and under that, there is the scent of Clear Sky.
Her wounds are described in great detail,
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Completely consistent with the way that the wounds were described on Misty. Nearly word-for-word.
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The only evidence of fox is the smell. No one heard it bark, there is no note of it bounding off, there are no bites or wounds consistent with those of a canid. They were described exactly the same as Misty's.
Slits are cat claw wounds. Not fox bite wounds. She was not being bitten, she was cut all over her body, prominently down her belly and sides.
Unless this fox shapeshifted into a cat and then meticulously created wounds consistent with the ones left on Misty, Clear Sky did this.
Where did the fox go? Probably came to investigate, maybe licked at the bloody cuts expecting a meal, and then was scared off by Bumble suddenly waking up and screaming. It's possible, but unlikely that the patrol's clamor scared it off, considering they didn't see or hear any fox noises.
There are also signs of a struggle-- and Bumble was not able to fight in the condition she is currently in. It's most likely it was the struggle from when she was being tormented and trying to get away, unless there was a fight with a fox while Bumble was still unconscious and she was dragged to the middle of it, for some reason.
However, a fight with a fox is still unlikely, as the patrol was able to hear the whimpering of a cat in pain as they approached but not the furious sounds of a battle with a large predator. If there was this whole epic brawl with a fox that trampled the grass around Bumble, why was there only a single shriek?
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Gray Wing, expert on the smell of Clear Sky's armpit, confirms it's his brother. His whole world spins when he realizes his Dear Brother is involved in this, feeling horror and disbelief.
(Also note that Gray Wing implies Clear Sky's involvement is the prophetic bad thing his adopted son mentioned in the previous chapter, not the shredded woman dying in front of him lol)
The rest of the group is able to acknowledge reality, coming to the obvious conclusion. Clear Sky is expanding his territory, including the very patch they're standing on. He has been violent in the past, even against other settlers. Misty was slaughtered in a way consistent with the victim dying in front of them, so he is killing cats who stand in his way. Gray Wing's immediate, literally DESPERATE response is first to jump to Clear Sky's defense.
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Gray Wing asks Bumble directly if it was a fox, and she is too weak to answer... until she finds the strength, as a domestic abuse victim, to blame herself for the way a cat beat her bloody. She thinks it's her fault for hunting here, because she was hungry, not thinking straight, and stupid.
I have seen this described as Bumble "making a defense of Clear Sky." I will leave it up to you, the reader, to determine if this sounds like Bumble is trying to say he's not guilty of hurting her or if it's the sort of infamous self-blame that domestic violence victims lapse into after a furious thrashing.
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When Clear Sky returns to the scene of the crime, he cuts her off while admitting he did assault Bumble, then glares at everyone to challenge a fight.
Gray Wing swoons over him like he always does.
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I have heard it said, without examples, that this is normal because this happens all the time in Warrior Cats. That it's a normal thing to be standing next to a domestic abuse victim who is bleeding out and watch her murderer daring all of your friends to do something about it, and admire how brave he is. That, again, without any examples, this is just something that every character does when the Villain of the Week exists in front of them, so it's not even special that it was Gray Wing's first response.
If you believe that, I have a bridge in London to sell you.
Desperation is under all of Gray Wing's feelings which immediately follow. His voice "cracks" when he has to ask if his darling brother did this. He wants to scream when he takes his sweet time answering. He shrinks under Clear Sky's gaze, because he reads that he's "accusing him of betrayal."
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But somehow, that FIRST response for him to fawn over his brother is not part of that, because in unquoted books of other arcs a hero has admired a villain?? Context doesn't exist because in some other book the same emotion was described maybe. Incredible.
No mention of how casually he brushes off this sight that makes his eyes show "guilt and horror," either. No talk of how he made a little ""joke"" about how no one greeted him nicely at a tortured woman's deathbed. Almost like he was caught red-handed and the wounds don't actually unsettle him as much as the crowd's reaction.
Even the glare-- Clear Sky is trying to get Gray Wing to do his bidding. He wants him to protect him, be his flying monkey, and control his furious people.
So at the next opportunity, Gray Wing jumps to his defense again. Second time in this exchange.
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FIRST he was described as "desperate." Now he takes a deep breath and BRAVELY licks that boot.
Turtle Tail steps forward and posits the obvious truth. Clear Sky is going mad with power, doesn't care who he hurts, and is completely capable of doing something like this to Bumble. This was already done to Misty, and even earlier, Clear Sky stood by and watched as one of his minions savaged Gray Wing in a similar way.
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The whoooole crowd can see this. It is Gray Wing, and Gray Wing alone, who prevents there from being any consequences for Clear Sky's actions.
He hypocritically believes that attacking Clear Sky for the murder of Bumble would make them all "no better than he is" when he had no qualms about coming to blows over the exile of Jagged Peak much earlier. "Attacking Clear Sky for Murder" is morally equivalent to "Actually Doing Murder."
This is only for Bumble though, a "foreign" woman he does not like. He did not believe this for Jagged Peak, and he will not believe it later when he watches Clear Sky strangle Rainswept Flower to death. They are worth physical consequences.
He even physically shields him.
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"he stepped between Clear Sky and his own cats, not sure which of them he was trying to protect." It's Clear Sky. Bumble's life means nothing to Gray Wing, so he is trying to protect Clear Sky from the fury of the angry mob he has earned by killing her and Misty.
He CANNOT let there be any doubt. Not even from himself. His brother must be protected at all costs. To that end, he is trying to make some kind of opportunity for Clear Sky to escape accountability.
If you are "neutral" in the conflict between victims and their abuser, you have taken the side of the abuser. If you provide opportunities for a perpetrator to escape accountability, you are an enabler. If you allow a suspect to escape the scene of a crime, since every cat in these books seems to be a lawyer the minute anyone wants to react to violence, you could be charged with accessory fleeing and eluding-- a felony.
Before you try to say this is all in the noble pursuit of peace, let's not be dense.
DOTC is not committed to non-violence for any other tyrannical leader. Especially not One Eye, even believing that an underhanded ambush that breaks the terms of a duel Clear Sky set is the good and righteous thing to do. Killing him was the correct action, as it was with Slash in Riverstar's Home. Outside of DOTC this logic is casually applied to Brokenstar, Tigerstar, Scourge, Hawkfrost, Darktail, and Ashfur-- with only Leopardstar and Blackstar being "exempt" for following an evil ringleader.
Gray Wing himself has no moral dilemma about One Eye or Slash, either. Nonviolence is not his goal.
It is Clear Sky, and Clear Sky alone, who the narrative of DOTC will conclude "deserved" a million second chances. That torturing Bumble to death, slaughtering Misty for her land, and countless offscreen cases of attacking natives didn't push him past the "fundamentally evil" threshold into an irredeemable monster, as is the case with Slash and One Eye later in this arc.
The difference between Clear Sky and DOTC's other two tyrants, to me, is obvious. Clear Sky is the POV's brother and a member of the in-group of The Settlers. The lives of his victims, as mostly "foreigners" and entirely women, are worth very little to the notoriously xenophobic and misogynist writing team.
If the moor cats had shredded Clear Sky right here and now, dozens of lives would have been saved. The First Battle wouldn't have happened. Justice would have been served for Bumble, regardless of if the cause of death was 2nd degree murder or negligent homicide. He wouldn't have smacked and beaten any of his other victims.
Gray Wing prevents this, giving Clear Sky an opportunity to tell a lie.
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(He even whines about the idea of Wind Runner challenging Clear Sky about boundaries, the whole thing that started this incident in the first place. This is the perfect time to start arguing about boundaries, actually, when he's in the middle of establishing new ones.)
In the past, I'd been too charitable to this exchange. This lie is obscene and anyone who believes it is ignorant. No frills, no bells, you either can't think critically or just didn't want to so Clear Sky can be innocent or Gray Wing can seem "reasonable."
Clear Sky's visibly eager to start his story, "glad of the chance" now that he's had time to concoct a story. He could have explained earlier but didn't, sizing the group up and glaring at his brother to crack a whip, asking if they believed he was capable of it, so he could gauge what he can get away with.
"New part of my territory" = Freshly annexed land he has violently conquered, confirming the patrol's fears of expansion.
"I wanted to give her a warning, just a little cuff" = No one leaves his territory gently. Confirmation he thrashed her, downplay of how severe.
"How was I to know she would faint?" = Bumble is visibly emaciated, and he's blaming her for not being able to stay conscious through the whole beating.
"I could see her paws twitching, and I knew she would come around" = He would not care, Misty's body was unburied for two days.
"So I left" = Leaving Count: 1
Pauses, wincing, because this is another act. Every time he's putting on a little show for other cats, he takes dramatic pauses and plays up his pain and regret. Seen earlier in this book.
"But heard a fox bark" = no barking was heard by the patrol, only a cat's shriek.
"And ran back" = Was apparently so close that he could hear barking the patrol didn't, but so far away that a fox had time to cut her to ribbons, AND this was so long ago the patrol wasn't close enough to hear the fight? Returning Count: 2
"But I was too late" = Wounds inconsistent with fox attack. Leaving Count: 2
"I was going to get help" = There is no medic in proto-SkyClan. When Jagged Peak broke his leg, they had to borrow Dappled Pelt. What help? Who?? Even as he says this, Frost's wound is going completely untreated. If Clear Sky was going to get help, why wasn't he telling Cloud Spots to do something when he got back?
"But then I heard you all arrive" = He left to get help but was still close enough to hear running? Just abandoning his noble quest to get that "help" he apparently has? Returning Count: 3
Not a single part of his story adds up. EVERY aspect of it has a problem, in that it's either deceptively worded to downplay his abuse, doesn't line up with who he is, or just doesn't make logistical sense.
It's not JUST a lie, it's a BAD one.
Even worse, Clear Sky is a known liar at this point. He does this when the truth would not benefit him, like earlier in this book when he fibbed to Thunder about why he abandoned him right in front of Gray Wing's face. The story doesn't make sense and there's not even any reason to give him benefit of the doubt, because he is known to be dishonest.
He's offended when Turtle Tail calls him on being full of baloney, and once again shoots a sharp look over to his flying monkey, expecting Gray Wing to dance on command and defend his honor like always.
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But Gray Wing seems to be perfectly capable of being "wise" when it would directly benefit Clear Sky.
I have seen the question begged, "if he's such a bootlicker then why he no verbally bootlick a third time in a single exchange?" and I would tell that person to read the text because it says why. Right there. Here, I've underlined it. So you don't miss it again.
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If Gray Wing licks that boot again, THIRD TIME, in front of an angry mob who wants to skin Clear Sky alive, they will lose patience and make the clearing look like Bruce's Eating Dome. So he shuts the fuck up and gives his ungrateful brother the chance to indignantly slip away, even though he desperately wants to cry out and tell him how shiny and lickable those boots are.
"What can I say?" Nothing. "I'll only make things worse" Correct. "If I don't let him leave now there will be a fight" im literally just quoting the text verbatim
He is NOT doing this because he does not believe him, NOR because he doesn't want to defend him. It's because this the best way to protect his brother from consequence.
And then Bumble uses her dying breath to apologize for ever hurting her friend, showing Bumble is still just blaming herself for everything, with Turtle Tail still repeating the same malicious excuses that were used to deny her asylum from domestic abuse.
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"I wish you could have found happiness, even though I was unwilling to help you. It sucked to learn that our shared wifebeater started wifebeating you, but we didn't want you in our camp so really this was unavoidable."
I've voiced my ire before, gone on long rants about how angry this exchange makes me and even campaigned for more recognition of the misogyny in this subplot. The fact that the last words Bumble hears are just more excuses from a person who could have done something disgust me, and I think I'm right to feel that it's vile that this sits unexamined in a book for young readers. But it doesn't change what happened.
She senselessly died in intense pain and despair, for the crime of existing. All that's left to say is that I wish Bumble could have found a better friend.
But ultimately, Turtle Tail is another woman in the notoriously misogynistic arc of DOTC. She's just a supporting character for Gray Wing's conflict, and he's got some opinions about what, exactly, is making this so sad.
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He doesn't give a fuck that this woman he hates has been murdered after slowly starving to death, for months, since he watched her be dragged back to a domestic abuser. She "stole" his romantic interest for a few months, after all.
It's stressed he "never especially liked Bumble" at her deathbed. It's not JUST "the death of a kittypet," a group of people he is bigoted against. It's about his piece of shit brother.
It's about how HIS REPUTATION HAS BEEN TARNISHED.
"It changes the way my cats think of Clear Sky," THAT HE IS NOW A KNOWN MURDERER, "and that changes everything" IT'S GOING TO BE A LOT HARDER TO DEFEND HIM NOW
This is completely consistent with Gray Wing's behavior into the rest of the chapter, and even the books beyond.
The Immediate Response
Gray Wing explains what happened to the other moor cats. He has to hide his actual belief that Clear Sky didn't actually do anything wrong so that the moor cats don't dismiss him for the biased, brother-obsessed little minion he is. He admits how he really feels about Bumble's death to Turtle Tail at the very end of the chapter-- so what he says here is a lie.
Not a delusion. A lie. He withheld the full truth of his bias when questioned. If he's honest about his conflict of interest, this group will trust his judgement less. He has a goal; to prevent his cats from retaliating.
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Wind Runner is, again, the one who is rallying the other cats into action. She's seeing that Clear Sky is murdering innocent cats, possibly even her friend considering how much she knew about Misty, and that this will only escalate. Gray Wing doesn't like that.
So when Tall Shadow starts suggesting the things he agrees with, like how Bumble's life was less valuable anyway so this is no reason to start a fight with his Dear Sweet Brother, and they should all just sit on their butts until no one's angry anymore, he decides she "deserves" his support.
It's a political move.
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"After all, she was only a kittypet... omg why are you so mad?? I didnt mean it like that, all im saying is that we should just calm down ugh dont be so sensitive" -Tall Shadow, channeling your racist aunt
If Gray Wing can get the other cats to waste their time on useless half-measures, like more patrols or perhaps writing a strongly-worded letter, he can make them feel like they're doing something when they're actually doing jack shit. Wittingly or unwittingly, this is a measure to stall the inevitable, making them miss their chance to strike while the iron is hot.
He's either an idiot or he's subconsciously acting from a place of loyalty to his brother. Bias resembles the former but is born of the latter, and either way the result is the same.
After this, there's a brief conversation where Tall Shadow makes it clear that there is absolutely no reason to be mistrusting Wind Runner. They both agree "when this is all over" she's a good cat to have around-- they just don't seem want to listen to her now, when she wants something done about the sadistic lunatic next door.
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Gray Wing's talk of "working together" is laughable. His idea of "working together" includes the cat who just slaughtered two people for existing on his newly annexed land, who long ago stopped listening to reason. Tall Shadow herself starts preening and announces that her response to all this is that Clear Sky must absolutely be stopped by some cat.......................... so she'll think abt it.
tomorrow maybe. we'll put a pin in it. set a little reminder on her phone or something.
(the genius plan she comes up with in the end is a nonsequitor babble about how rocks don't exist to be sat on, so clear sky should just stop conquering all the land or something. he listens intently and then throws her into a tank of piranhas.)
But anyway, it's time to smooth things over with Turtle Tail, who had been struggling with that uncomfortable truth that the moor cats, and Gray Wing specifically, were also culpable in some way for the slow, painful death of Bumble.
He'll fix that with a big display of affection.
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"Don't be mad at me it's nobody's fault :) She wouldn't have been able to cope so it's inevitable she wound up dead :) I'm sorry you're hurting bc i like you, not that i give a damn that your friend was shoved into a blender and shredded alive after starving for months :) Thanks to you I am now ready to lead this clan directly off the side of a cliff." -very endearing conversation i assure you
It works because Turtle Tail is not allowed to maintain her own opinions as a girl in DOTC. Obviously. Her husband licks her ears and tells her that he likes her and that's the end of any examination that they have any responsibility here. god forbid she re-examine her feelings towards the writers' favorite in light of how much of an ass he made of himself at her friend's deathbed.
Just in case it slipped your mind though, once again it is made clear that Gray Wing is reacting with leisure because he does not believe (or care) that Clear Sky killed Bumble. No, not even in the negligent homicide sense, that Clear Sky's actions allowed Bumble to die through beating her unconscious and leaving her alone in an unsafe location. He does not think this was something to blame Clear Sky for.
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He believes that the fox did it-- he was lying earlier when he said he "didn't know what to believe." He does. He didn't reveal his bias when he was being questioned, because he wants to prevent the moor cats from fighting Clear Sky over Bumble's death.
Also note the sneaky little turn of language Gray Wing makes there. In denial of Turt's claim that "innocent cats are being slaughtered," Gray's counter is Bumble alone before the pivot. The patrol was originally about Misty's murder and her missing kittens as Clear Sky expanded his borders-- but Misty's apparently not an "innocent cat" who's been slaughtered. She's absent from that category, implied to be part of Clear Sky's hypothetical "good reason" for expansion that Gray Wing needs to get to the bottom of.
Bumble's murder is denied. Misty's is implied to just be collateral damage for the unknown plan. He's unbothered about the death of either one.
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Gray Wing: "No one else can get to the bottom of this! theres only ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP CLEAR SKY"
Also Gray Wing: (leaps in front of an angry crowd to defend his brother. cries that he doesn't believe hes capable of such terrible violence. actively prevents anyone else from doing anything about him)
Anyone with a vague awareness of DOTC knows how this ends. Gray Wing is going to lead them astray with his bad judgement, so purposefully delusional about his brother that they will have to dig a mass grave at Fourtrees. Gray Wing thinks he's a *~special boy~* who is the only one who can truly get through to his brother, and maybe he is, but not before dozens of people have to suffer and die for it.
This is enabling. To enable is to directly or indirectly support another's harmful actions, such as addiction or abuse. He did it here, both during and after Bumble's death, giving Clear Sky the cover to escape consequences for his actions and halting any attempts to do anything concrete. Because of him, Clear Sky never pays for what he did to her.
In the book 3, Clear Sky denies all wrongdoing, and in Bumble's last mention in book 4, her torture is described in passive voice. A terrible "happening" which seemingly couldn't have been avoided. No one is held accountable. Not the moor cats for turning her away, not Clear Sky for her killing, and even Tom the Wifebeater is redeemed after being given a chance to live in a clan for not being "soft" like his female victim.
All so sweet, beloved little Gray Wing never has to confront that he let a killer get off scot-free because the uncomplicated childhood memory of his brother as a lovely good boy was wrong. That he was so consumed by spite that he smugly watched Bumble get dragged away from the only people who could have helped her. That he was complicit twice.
Incredible suggestions that I have had to read with my own eyes
fucking ✨Bonus Round✨
"If clear sky fought bumble, why bumble leave no scratches?" I'll let you sit there and think about why the DOMESTIC ABUSE VICTIM did not fight back against a large, violent man who was beating her. I'll give you a minute. I'll play some jeopardy music.
"he's quote 'horrified and guilty' at the wounds which means he didn't make them himself" Clear Sky has a repeated habit of "blacking out" when he butchers women (Rainswept Flower, Willow Tail). He's also a liar and an actor, even according to his own account he'd seen these same wounds before when he came back a second time. Most importantly, what fucking part of "horrified and guilty" implies he didn't make those himself, does a toddler not look "horrified and guilty" when it spills chocolate milk on a couch and its parent sees it? Does that mean the toddler didn't do it? If you wouldn't accept this logic for a toddler why the fuck will you accept it for a suspected murderer?
"Maybe Clear Sky fought the fox off?" He doesn't actually say that, it's just implied during his lie when he says he showed up too late, but it's hypothetically possible. Even if he did fight this fox off, he must have still mauled Bumble because she is covered in claw wounds, even if he doesn't remember it because he "blacked out." There's also still the problems of Bumble being in the middle of the trampled grass, the patrol not hearing the sound of battle, his framing that he just tapped her and she passed out, and him apparently running to get help he does not have. Occam's Razor still suggests the solution is that this fox was scared off when Bumble screamed, with Clear Sky just using the convenient smell to lie his way out of consequences
"How'd Clear Sky get fox scent on him?" Probably from showing up to the crime scene that absolutely reeks and prowling around like an axe murderer, which we saw him do. Bumble had no fox bites and no one heard a fight. did you know that if you stand in a sewer you smell like shit
"Gray Wing just doesn't want to think his dear sweet brother could ever do such a thing :("
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"What if the Erins are just so incompetent that they created a crime scene completely inconsistent with the very true and real story that Clear Sky told, it just happens to look like a lie on accident, they unwittingly made him a liar earlier in this book because they forgot the events they previously wrote, and don't know anything about a type of predator that appears in nearly every entry of warrior cats and happens to be one of the most popular animals of all time" what if i tripped and fell and a shawarma with extra tahini sauce fell into my mouth, followed by an apple slice, and 3 litres of water. should i continue my fast or has Allah fed me.
All of this is why I am adamant on saying that Clear Sky killed Bumble by beating her to death. In order for this to have been the cause of a fox, you'd have to take a liar at face value and ignore every other detail. That's what Gray Wing does, described on the page as "desperate to believe in his brother's innocence."
Unfortunately, this will also not be the only time that Gray Wing's obsession with his brother and shockingly horrific judgement will put other cats in danger or get them killed. It's just the most deliberate example, and thus imo the most upsetting.
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theamberfist · 8 months ago
Text
It's Tough to be a Teacher | Alastor x Teacher! Reader
Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Teacher! Reader
Description: You and Alastor have been best friends since you were alive; where you two served as a murderous radio-host-and-kindergarten-teacher duo. Now, your refusal to become an overlord and protect yourself in hell causes Alastor to come up with a plan to convince you; for your own safety.
(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cults)
❀ We've got a song in this one! (Sometimes I like to write in songs I find if they fit the scene since Hazbin Hotel is a musical after all!) ❀
Words: 4,243
Alastor was someone who absolutely thrived in hell. With almost no consequences for any of his actions, he could kill, torture, or eat anyone he wanted. It was no surprise to you that he'd risen to be one of hell's strongest overlords in such a short time after his death.
You'd also been dead by then. In fact, you'd been killed off long before he had when your crimes in life were discovered. Alastor, upon arriving in hell years later, had informed you that he'd gotten revenge on those responsible for your death in the most brutal, bloody way possible; just as a best friend should, and he'd been making a name for himself here ever since with your support.
You were under the impression that you thrived in hell, too. However, since you had absolutely no interest in becoming an overlord, this sense of safety and contentment you felt was really thanks to your best friend's protection. There were few in hell who would mess with the Radio Demon, and even fewer that would have risked harming you and incurring his wrath when the two of you were always seen together.
But that didn't mean there weren't any at all.
Since his debut as an overlord, Alastor had caused many of hell's strongest to go missing, where he broadcasted their screams of pain and torment for all to hear. As it turned out, many of those missing overlords happened to be connected to not-yet-missing ones, who would then take it upon themselves to exact their revenge upon him. And more recently, that meant going after the closest person to him, you, as an eye-for-an-eye sort of situation.
He hated it. Even more so because you could have easily become just as powerful as him if you wanted to. You'd been a killer in life too and you certainly had the stomach to deal in souls, but every time he brought the topic up, you refused it.
Your murders had always had a strict moral code to them when you were alive. The pattern had been what ultimately alerted the New Orleans police that you were a suspect and got you caught in the end. You only ever killed those that you had deemed deserving of it based on a list of circumstances and traits. In short, you'd been trying to make a positive impact on the world in your own twisted way by killing off people you considered bad.
In fact, you met Alastor precisely because of your little 'good deeds,' as you'd referred to them at the time. You had been in the woods burying a body, only for him to be out hunting at the same time. Surprised by the presence of another person, he'd come over to strike up a conversation and the rest was history. You'd been best friends ever since because, ironically, Alastor had never met your qualifications for a truly 'bad' person.
Together, you two were a radio host and kindergarten teacher duo by day, but a pair of serial killers by night; both very notorious for your crimes.
And yet, when you'd arrived in hell, you'd seen no point in becoming an overlord. Why own the souls of other sinners? It wasn't like you wanted to become some sort of god and the way you saw it, you could protect yourself just fine without that extra power (though, Alastor would have begged to differ on that point, considering it was usually his power protecting you without your knowledge). So every time he tried to suggest you join him in his path, you'd politely but adamantly refused.
Which was why he was now left at a loss for what to do. Sighing, the Radio Demon slumped in his seat as he stared down at the 'coffee' in front of him. He'd come down to Cannibal Town since they had some of the best cafe's in hell and a warm drink had always helped him think better.
He could continue to protect you the way he currently was just fine, of course, but should he ever not be physically present, and an overlord that was on the stronger side showed up, he wasn't as confident in the fact that you'd get out unscathed.
The Radio Demon had never worried for another person to this extent in his life or afterlife, but it seemed his best friend was one of few exceptions to that. After all, without you, who would he share endless hours of gossip with when even Rosie was busy? Who else in hell had he known in life that didn't constantly ask him for favors the way Mimsy did? Who else had quietly listened to his broadcasts every day while their kindergarteners took their afternoon naps in the classroom?
No matter what you said, he refused to allow you to come to any harm if he could prevent it. Whether he liked it or not, you were too much of an important aspect in his life for him to even risk that. For heaven's sake, you had hardly even committed a single crime since arriving in hell of all places because you claimed "everyone here was probably a bad person" and that you "couldn't actually kill them anyway so what was the point?"
So it was Alastor's concern for your safety that finally brought him out of the cafe and on a walk through the cannibal colony in the hopes of coming up with a solution. If he couldn't get you to become an overlord, perhaps there was some other way to ensure your safety down here. Could you make a deal with someone in higher standing? Sneak into heaven? Get a job working for Lucifer, if you had to?
Luckily, he didn't have to ponder long, because as he walked, he passed by a group of what looked like young adult sinners all resembling various animals. They were gathered in an alleyway and huddling like a sports team might before a big game, and since they weren't doing anything that particularly irritated him, he nearly passed them by without a second thought.
...Until he heard them say your name. Well, it was your last name; they'd referred to you the way your kindergarteners might have, back when you were alive.
Alastor froze, his head snapping to look at the group now. Upon noticing his gaze on them, they all quieted down as he repeated your name with an unreadable expression.
"Do the lot of you happen to know them?" He asked. The sinners all exchanged glances before hesitantly nodding.
"Yeah, we all had them as our teacher when we were little." One finally spoke up. Clearly, he recognized who Alastor was because he and the rest of them all seemed a bit timid.
"Interesting..." Alastor said as he took a step into the surprisingly-clean alleyway now. He was extremely curious as to why they'd brought you up at a time like this. If they were your former students, he was sure they'd absolutely loved having you as a teacher; all of them had. But bringing up someone who'd taught them when they were in kindergarten at a time like this seemed excessive.
As he came closer to the huddle, he noticed a few more interesting things on the wall behind them that only amused him further. It seemed he'd been right when he called them excessive.
Dozens of what he could only assume were their assignments from kindergarten had been plastered on the wall; all graded by your hand and with that sparkly pen of your favorite color that you always used. The Radio Demon wasn't even sure how they'd procured those things in hell, but that wasn't all. There was a photo of you with your class of kindergarten students from when you were alive at the center of it all, and lines drawn in bright red blood connected everything; wrapping up this odd display.
It was a shrine. That knowledge only made Alastor's smile widen further in amusement. You likely didn't even know these former students were in hell, so he enjoyed imagining how your face would look when he told you all these details.
The sinners exchanged glances with one another now, seemingly put-off by his silence this whole time.
"Do you have a problem with us?" One of the braver ones spoke up, "If so, we're not alone! I'll have you know there are tons of us down here that will gang up on you if you try anything!" The Radio Demon wanted to roll his eyes at that- as if a group of regular demons, no matter how large, could stand a chance against him- but an idea was forming in his mind now that he couldn't help but want to investigate further. He hummed, taking another step forward as he raised his microphone-cane to point at the wall-shrine.
"And do the rest of you worship this person too?" He questioned casually. It seemed your former students hadn't expected that because they exchanged glances with one another again before answering.
"...Yes. All of us were their former students," one said, "We were inspired by their death and followed their ideals in our own murders. Now, we continue to spread their knowledge throughout hell."
"I see..." Alastor replied. He couldn't have been more amused in this moment; here he'd been worrying about your safety since you didn't want to become an overlord, and now it seemed he'd just accidentally stumbled upon the solution. "If that's true, then I assume you've yet to run into them down here?"
That gave the group pause.
"They're down here?" The sinner who had first spoke up asked and Alastor nodded.
"Indeed!" He replied, "In fact, they happen to be a dear friend of mine." Their eyes seemed to narrow at that; as if they didn't approve of the supposed friendship. Alastor, however, paid them no mind as he stood taller and rested his hands on his cane. "I have a proposition regarding your former teacher," he announced to the group, "One I believe you'll be more than inclined to accept."
He could already see their intrigue as he began explaining.
..........
You quietly hummed to yourself as you made your way to what essentially served as your dwelling here in hell. Thanks to Alastor, you could have chosen just about anywhere to live if you wanted, so at the moment, both you and him resided in an otherwise-empty apartment building that closely reflected the architecture found in New Orleans during your time. Your apartments were next door to one another; even having a door on one of the walls between them for quick access, though Alastor rarely ever used it; instead just popping up out of nowhere in your house.
Unlocking the door to your home, you stepped inside and shut it behind you. Since your best friend had been busy today, you'd taken a peaceful walk by yourself and had now returned to make dinner for the both of you. Alternating who cooked and when was a common practice for you and the Radio Demon since you both shared the same tastes and preferences when it came to food. You had to admit, though, that he was much more skilled in the kitchen than you.
You turned on one of the many radios found in your apartment as you moved through the kitchen; humming along with the song Alastor currently had broadcasting. You were just about to start cooking when there was a knock at your door.
Frowning, you set down the apron you'd been about to tie onto your body and made your way to the entrance of your apartment. You'd never received visitors before; and especially not out of the blue like this. Alastor tended to ward off anyone who might have been looking to come see you.
Curious, you looked through the door's peephole to see a huge group of people crowding the hallway. Slightly nervous but remaining confident, you pulled open the door to greet them.
"Hello, can I help you?" You asked as kindly as you could. Alastor would likely lecture you about not answering the door for strangers like this later, but it wasn't like anything was going to happen, right?
Suddenly, someone from the group called your name, but not just any name; the title you'd gone by as a teacher. Your gaze snapped to them in surprise.
"Y-yes, that's me..." You replied carefully, "And you are?"
"It's me; James!" The person called and suddenly, memories of your life came flooding back to you. James had been one of your very first students and he was always such a sweet kid. He used to offer to sharpen your pencils for you during his own recess time, and though you never took him up on it, you were always appreciative.
"And Joseph!" Another demon called.
"And Ruth!"
"And Mary!" Suddenly, a whole chorus of names were called out, all belonging to your former students. Your breath hitched and a huge smile made its way onto your face at being able to see them again.
"My goodness, what are you all doing here?" You asked happily, ready to invite every single one of them into your home for dinner, even if they could barely fit in the long hallway outside your apartment, as it was.
But then it hit you; this was hell. If this many of your former students were here, that meant they hadn't made it into heaven like you'd always assumed. This was only a handful of those you used to teach, of course, but if this many had ended up in hell, you wondered what could have gone wrong to make them commit anything worthy of being here.
"What are you all doing here?" You asked, now crossing your arms. It had been a while, but those teacher instincts of yours were beginning to come back just from seeing all your old kids.
"We found out about your killings!" Mary eagerly spoke up. You cringed at that. You'd known your students would likely hear of what you'd done, and while you didn't regret any of it, you did feel bad that it had likely ruined the image of their former favorite teacher in their memories.
"We were inspired!" Joseph called now and your eyes widened.
"You're like our idol!" Agreed Ruth, "We want to be just like you so we've been living the way you wanted and continuing your legacy of cleansing the world of evil!"
You felt like you couldn't breathe. They were here because of you? Because of what you'd done? You weren't sure whether to be proud or guilty over that, but before you could decide, James dropped another bombshell.
"And now we want you to own our souls!"
You paused, taking the information in. A part of you expected them to backtrack, laugh, and tell you this had all been some elaborate prank, but that didn't happen. They were dead serious about wanting you to be their overlord.
"What?" You asked in surprise as Mary nodded.
"We want to give our souls to you and work under your command!" She explained excitedly, as if what she was proposing was the most normal thing. You weren't sure what to do.
"Uh...Could you all give me one moment?" You asked politely, feeling as if you might faint. The students nodded and you quickly shut the door before going straight to your living room. That was where the connecting door between your and Alastor's apartments was located and you hurriedly knocked on it, needing the support and guidance of your closest friend right now.
"Al?" You called quietly enough that the students wouldn't hear you but loudly enough that he would, "Are you there? I could use some help!" There was no response, even after you waited a minute, and you sighed, assuming he wasn't home yet.
You went to turn around now, trying to come up with a nice way to reject the crowd of people outside when you jumped at the sight of a bright red deer-like demon standing behind you.
"What is it, darling?" He asked in a cheerful tone.
"You've got to stop sneaking up on me like that!" You exclaimed as you reached a hand to your heart. It wasn't like you could have heart attacks in hell but it sure felt that way.
"Why, but it's so entertaining!" He replied before setting his cane down and letting it rest in the crook of his arm. "Now, what seems to be the issue today?"
Ignoring how he almost sounded like a customer service worker, you sighed and reached a hand to your forehead in an effort to calm your already-growing headache.
"Remember how I used to teach kindergarten?" You asked, though, you knew he did. Regardless, the Radio Demon nodded and you continued. "Well, it looks like a bunch of my former students grew up looking up to me and now they're here in hell. They showed up just now and they want to give me their souls like an overlord!"
Alastor remained smiling, as always, so it was hard for you to notice just how amused he was by this situation. "And why, pray tell, would that be an issue?" He asked.
"Because I can't do that!" You exclaimed, groaning in frustration, "I can't hurt them; they're still my former students! I would have no idea what to do with that kind of power and besides, I don't want to be an overlord!" You plopped down on your nearby couch as Alastor listened intently to your plight. Finally, he hummed.
"I still fail to see the issue, dear," he told you, holding his cane in his hands behind his back as he calmly paced in front of you, "who says you would have to harm them if you owned their souls?" When you didn't respond he went on. "And as for the power, you would hardly need to use it. They could live their lives just as they did before if you so wished, but this way, you would finally be able to protect yourself."
"I can already-" you started to protest, only to see the look in his eyes and think better of it. You'd been in denial about the role your best friend played in your safety for a while now. Finally, you sighed. "But Al, they see me like some sort of god," you told him, "they idolize me to a concerning degree. I can't have that power over people; it's never been my style."
Alastor knew this was true. After all, in life you'd always preferred to manipulate the world from the shadows via your killings. You would never have been comfortable with this much glory, but he wasn't about to give up on the idea yet.
"Perhaps I can put it a different way," he said. The sentence was a reference to your teaching style as well; always willing to try and explain or show things differently if a student didn't get it the first time. You were endlessly patient, and luckily, he knew that would work in favor of his current plan. 
With a wave of his cane, a hoard of shadow creatures appeared in the room around you. You glanced at each of them, having seen the group before, wondering how he planned to get this point across. That was when he pointed to the door, where one of the creatures had grabbed the handle and was now swinging it open. In the hall, you could see your crowd of students all kneeling, but they looked up with smiles once the door was open. That was when Alastor, in his theatrical fashion, began to sing.
"There, you see? They're on their knees!" He called, pointing his cane in the direction of the hall, "Being worshipped is a breeze!" As if to further prove his point, the shadow creatures ran over to kneel in front of him. The one that had been at your front door now closed it and joined them. "Which rather suits us in the interim!" Alastor added with his signature wide smile.
"I just...Don't think I'm cut out for it," you admitted with a sigh, completely ignoring his song. On a normal day, you might have sang and danced along, but you weren't in the mood right now. "They want me to be a god!"
You plopped down on the couch with a defeated look on your face but your best friend wasn't done yet. 
"It's tough to be a god!" He admitted dramatically as the shadow creatures spun in circles around him, "Tread where mortals have not trod! Be deified when really you're a sham!" You could tell he was mocking you now as he leaned on the couch and raised a hand to his forehead like an exasperated lady. You rolled your eyes but then he moved to stand in front of you, taking both your hands in his.
"Be an object of devotion!" He sang as the shadow creatures performed some surprisingly elaborate choreography around you. "Be the subject of psalms!" He pulled you up off the couch so you both were standing now and then draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in and raising his hand to his mouth as if telling you a secret. "It's a rather touching notion; all those prayers and those salaams!" He took your hand now, spinning you in a circle as you chuckled. 
Alastor knew his plan was starting to work now; at the very least, he'd cheered you up. It seemed pretending he had no part in the arrival of your former students really had been the right choice; otherwise you would have caught on to what he was doing. 
"And who are you to bridle if you're forced to be an idol?" He asked as the shadow creatures brought of both their hands and shrugged dramatically, "If they say that you're a god that's what you are!" You bit your lip at that; seemingly still not enthusiastic about the idea. Knowing he needed to try another tactic, Alastor snapped his fingers, transporting a few of your students into the room.
All of them were kneeling on the floor surrounding parts of what had been their shrine to you. Your widening eyes told him you hadn't realized their devotion ran that deep yet and his smile grew more sly as he went on with the song. 
"What's more," he sang, "If you don't comply with the students wishes I can see you being sacrificed or stuffed!" He dragged a finger across his neck for emphasis and you seemed to get a little more nervous. In order to bring back your enthusiasm, though, he pulled you back into a side-hug as you both faced the students. Now as they continued to kneel, silver platters of your favorite foods rested in their hands and they held them out to you. 
"So let's be gods, the perks are great!" He lead you over to one of the students and took note of how your eyes lit up slightly at the sight of your favorite food, "All of hell here on our plate!" He spun you again now and snapped his fingers so the platters disappeared and a few more students joined the others in kneeling. "The students' feelings should not be rebuffed!" He sang as he directed your attention to the sinners, who all gave you puppy-dog-eyes in agreement. Alastor had to hand it to them; they had a knack for going with whatever he came up with in order to convince you. "Never rebuff the students' feelings, no my friend!" 
The shadow creatures began dancing around again and the other demons joined them, despite not really knowing the choreography. The result was an adorably awkward dance between the two groups. "It's tough to be a god!" Alastor repeated to you as he took a step, gesturing to everyone around you both. "But if you get the students' nod..." He trailed off, giving you the opportunity to speak. You did, with slight hesitation. 
"Count your blessings?" You asked more than you sang. Alastor nodded, glad to know he seemed to have gotten you on-board now.
"Keep them sweet; that's my advice!" He replied as he came to stand by your side again in the middle of the circle of shadow creatures and students. 
"Be a symbol of perfection..." You sang softly. The Radio Demon knew his plan had worked now so he nodded and went on. 
"Be a legend, be a cult!" He advised you, "Take their praise, take the collection as the multitudes exult!" You turned to the students, one of your hands slightly extended as it began to glow your favorite color; a phenomena you'd never experienced before now.
"Don a supernatural habit?" You sang as you glanced back at Alastor, who nodded, before leading you slightly closer to the group. 
"You'd be crazy not to grab it!" He sang as the first student eagerly lined up to shake your hand. This time, you didn't reject the offer and the Radio Demon was glad to know his plan had worked out just the way he wanted. He knew you only needed a little more convincing in order to become one of hell's next best overlords. "So sign up this new god for paradise!" He sang as you finally took the hand of your student, shaking it and solidifying your first deal as a new overlord. "Paradise~!"
And with that, it was done. You would finally own souls of your own, and with them, you would finally have the power to protect yourself just like your best friend had always wanted. 
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tellmeallaboutit · 2 months ago
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the infamous non-con fantasy aka Why Am I So Fucked Up?
I've been meaning to write down my thoughts on the psychosexual origins of non-con fantasy for some time, as I write about it a lot. A lot of dissertations have been written on the subject, a lot people way smarter than me have spoken. I will share the reasons that apply to me personally.
Disclaimer: a commonly cited reason for engaging in this fantasy is to process sexual trauma and regain agency. I have no history of sexual trauma, so I won't comment on this particular reason.
Disclaimer 2: post in this series would be #tat:non-con , feel free to block. It will be very controversial, personal and amateurish.
Reason Number One: Don’t Hold Me Responsible, It Was Never My Choice!
We are generally judged harshly for our mating choices (and women are held to a much higher standard and are generally considered the 'gatekeepers' of sex).
So what do you do when your attraction to someone can be seen as a reflection of your character? How do you excuse yourself if the object of your desire is morally reprehensible in every way?
That's right, there is a solution!
Non-con fantasy: your (self-insert) is not responsible for anything and able to have sex with the object of their desire without any moral responsibility. No judgement for laying with a torturer, slaver, dictator, fascist, you name it, just pity and sympathy.
Non-con fantasy: You cannot hold me responsible because I never made the choice! I never wanted to fuck this immoral asshole, I swear to God!
Reason Number Two: The Special Victim Aka The Power Is Actually Mine 
While there are certainly such works, no one wants to be the victim number 1000 in the 15 minute window between the victims 999 and 1001.
They want to be THE victim. THE one who forced the perpetrator to do the unspeakable. Preferably, your irresistible sexual appeal has forced someone to lose all control. This, baby, is pure power. Power to turn the perpetrator into a raging beast, a criminal all while remaining a victim.
Even if the antagonist is prone to such behavior, you are definitely their favorite victim. The one they like to hunt down best.
Because that's your fantasy. Your power fantasy, in fact.
Reason Number Three: The Controversy That Is Sex
Somewhere around adolescent years, there is this weird entirtwinement of what everybody is fascinated about, and what you should be mortally afraid of - sex.
Sex is fun, pleasure, love // Sex is danger, death and violence.
Assault is the worst thing that can happen to a woman, and then you hear girls in the high school locker room whispering about how "this one hot guy pinned me in the dark corner and oh god oh god can you imagine?! lifted his hand up my skirt. Oh, the horror, the horror! Tell me all the details!".
The rape culture's dark twin, the "playing hard to get", the faking disinterest, the competition and rivalry between sexes and within them - who is the most desirable of them all - feeds into reasons number (1) and (2).
In general, sex is such a controversial topic; the most controversial of them all, perhaps. Sex in human society is a walking paradox. It's connected to fear, fascination, love, violence, it's omnipresent, over-consuming, animalistic and chaotic. It's easy to have your neurons a bit fried and confused about different sort of stimuli. Fear, lust, violence, anxiety all make our blood rush.
Reason Number Four: Masculinity on Steroids
What are the traits that are considered masculine / hypermasculine in society? Arrogance, power, determination, aggression, dominance, risk-taking, emotional callousness, addiction to danger. Now combine that all and what kind of sexual behavior do we get it? Exactly.
And now enter the dichotomy: all these traits are both condemned and glorified in the society.
We say it’s bad but we don’t act like it’s bad. If anything, this hypermasculine behavior is encouraged. The nice guys finish last vibe is still alive and strong in society.
Non-con fantasy is a lot about rationally hating these traits but physically still being attracted to them. You'd never fuck a man like that IRL because everything he stands for disgusts you, but hey, no judges in the world of fantasy.
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glade-constellation · 3 months ago
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Okay, finally about to get all my thoughts down after yesterday’s episode. I’m going to start with Moon since he’s being the one most talked about.
This is going to be a long post, so I’ll put a cut here <3
Moon
A lot of people are hating on how Moon reacted to Sun’s current trauma. I agree that he is not handling the situation well. As much as I understand where he’s coming from, running from Sun is not going to help at all. Sun desperately needs his family with him right now. No one else may have considered Nexus daily anymore, but it was still clear that Sun cared. He basically had to kill his own brother. Not only that, he was made to feel as if he chose to kill his own brother. (There was no choice in the matter, it was physiological torture set up specifically to make Sun feel guilty for his actions. Sun may have threw the “fireball” but Dark was the one who forced him to.)
Anyways, back to Moon. I think what a lot of people are forgetting is that Moon also just lived through a trauma. He was kidnapped and tortured, almost killed before Ruin saved him. The only reason Ruin saved him, as Ruin explained himself, was because Ruin hated Dark and Nexus. It was not because he wanted to save Moon, it was because he wanted to thwart Dark and Nexus’ plans. When he’s finally on his way to getting out, he finds two of his brothers being tortured, and almost watched one of them die before he got there. (I think that’s why he started screaming when he did. He was buying time for Solar by directing Nexus’ attention at him.) He then watched Nexus die. He was not close to Nexus in any way, but watching anyone die in front of you is not great for your mental health.
After all this, Moon is then told he has to not only process his own trauma, but take on Sun’s trauma as well. Moon does want to help, but he is too overly burdened by his own problems and knows he wouldn’t be of any help. To make up of his guilt, he is coving up his own trauma response by saying he’s doing it for Sun. He very likely knows this isn’t going to help Sun emotionally, but he feels he can stop any farther trauma to Sun by stopping whatever’s causing it. It’s both genuinely feeling this is the only way he can help Sun, and feeling guilt over not being able to help him in the way that is currently needed.
Is that the best response? No. But is it a very Moon response? Yes. This is actually exactly how he used to fix problems. Moon should not have abused Sun in the way he did, and he still needs to apologize for that, but Moon genuinely thought in some of these instances that he was helping Sun. He is not an emotionally available person, so he cannot handle his own emotions on top of others. So he does the next best thing he can think of and tries to stop what’s causing the trauma. Moon has just as much trauma as Sun does, people just don’t tend to feel that way because he took out his emotions on Sun to process them. At least this time he’s not taking it out on Sun. At least he is trying to actually stop the problem.
All in all, Moon isn’t as in the wrong as everyone keeps saying. Yes, he definitely should go talk to Sun. Hell, even just sitting in the same room as Solar does all the talking would be a big help. Just showing that he is there for Sun. But then Moon would feel more guilty, because he wouldn’t see how he’s helping and would still want to go after Dark and Ruin. He may seem apathetic, but he genuinely is trying to fix the situation.
(Edit : I also think people are forgetting that Moon had absolutely no insight as to what the real situation was. Sun did not tell them he was forced to make a choice, he simply saw Nexus explode. He probably thinks Sun intentionally killed Nexus. He does not realize the true gravity of the situation like we do.)
Sun
Obviously, Sun is the most emotionally distressed over the situation. The entire time he was talking with Nexus, a few episodes before his death, Sun tried to say he didn’t care about Nexus. Nexus saw through the lies, he knew Sun for an entire year by this point. They used to be brothers, Nexus wasn’t going to believe Sun didn’t care because Sun never stopped caring. As much as Sun was hurt by Nexus, that was still his brother. It’s kind of similar to his feelings of Moon at the beginning of the show. Moon did some genuinely terrible things to him, but Sun still cared. The only reason this situation is any different is because Moon would sometimes try and show regret over his actions, and Nexus blatantly didn’t care.
Sun found out his brother was kidnapped, had to bargain with the enemy to try and get past another enemy, almost got caught in the crossfire of a deadly fight, and was then tortured by someone he used to call a brother. He was almost forced to watch Solar die purely as a revenge tactic to get back at him, and Sun would have felt it was his fault Solar died. The was only stopped by Moon rushing in to start fighting. Right when it looked like Nexus was about to kill everyone, Dark forced Sun into a rigged choice between killing his brothers. (Edit: It was Ruin’s device that killed Nexus. Sun had no part in physically killing him.)
Once again, really want people to understand that Sun did not kill Nexus. He was simply made to feel like he did. It’s psychological torture, make someone feel as if they are choosing a certain outcome when you are actually in control so that the person will be traumatized by “their own” actions. Dark was very in control of the situation. He very much knew who Sun was going to choose, but forced him into doing so in a way that would make Sun feel like it was his fault. Sun is in no way at fault for Nexus’ death. That is completely on Dark.
In the end, Sun is forced to watch his former brother, someone he still cares very deeply about, die a very violent and painful death. He is forced to think he is the one to cause it. He was already in high distress before hand from Moon’s kidnapping and attempted rescue. Now he is dealing with what is quite possibly his worst trauma yet. This forces him to shut down and dissociate from the problem.
Notice how Sun forces himself not to breakdown until he gets back to the house, and even then he goes to his own room and very quietly starts to cry. Even while he was in extreme emotional pain, he was trying to be considerate of the people around him. He didn’t want to force them to handle him while he was suffering, so he made his suffering as silent and unseen as he could. Because Sun never stops caring.
To say the least, Sun is in an unbearable amount of pain right now. It will be a very long road to recovery for him, if he ever recovers from this.
Solar
Solar seems to be the most level headed in the situation, which isn’t an odd thing. He will usually take on that role in these types of situations. He was also one of the first to say killing Nexus was their best option. He was probably the most prepared for this kind of outcome.
The thing is, as much as Solar might not like it, he is still an Eclipse. He still deals with his problems like most Eclipses do, though arguably better than others. He finds work to do, and he drowns himself in it to avoid his own feelings. Eclipses are kings of repression. Solar doesn’t want to acknowledge his own feelings, so he’s going to forget he even has them.
His current choice of work? Helping Sun. To him, Sun is obviously more hurt than he is, so his own emotions don’t matter. He feels Sun needs more help than him, so he’s not going to show any distress so that the others will focus on Sun and not him. If they focus on him, he will have to feel his feelings, and he doesn’t want that. He wants Sun better, because to him Sun obviously is the one more in need.
I think that’s one of the reasons he got so upset with Moon over the whole “go talk to Sun” situation. No one is helping Sun, and he’s confused on why no one is helping. Sun obviously needs it, why is everyone just leaving him alone? They need to go check on Sun, he’s obviously not okay right now. Why is no one helping Sun?
I thinks there’s a lot of factors at play here, besides just repression. I think is also somewhat projection and reliving trauma too. He basically lived the beginning of his life without help when he was in emotional distress. His Moon never cared about him, blamed him for Sun’s death, and constantly verbally and physically abused him. He was never allowed to grieve. Seeing Sun hurting like this and not getting help is reminding him of his own feelings in past situations where he never got help. He may not realize it, but it’s a possibility. Also, he still has the attachment to his own Sun. I don’t think he likes seeing any Sun (besides Dark) in any sort of pain.
Then there’s the last thing.
Solar had to kill his Moon.
This situation is striking way too close to home.
Solar is probably the only one who genuinely can feel empathy for Sun’s current situation. He’s the only one who knows what it feels like to “pull the trigger”. Nexus was also acting very similar to how Solar’s Moon used to act. And Solar never got any help when it happened. He didn’t even tell anyone, he covered it up and tried to forget. I think Lunar is the only one who knows about it, and Lunar never did anything about it. Solar was forced to go through nearly this exact situation, and he does not want to see Sun go through what he had to go through.
(On top of all this, Solar was very close to Nexus before his death. He’s not showing it, but he is very much hurt by what is happening. The only reason he is probably not in more distress is because he prepared for this being a possible outcome.)
Earth
To be completely honest, I have been way more focused on the others in this situation. Earth is also one of the easiest characters to read, as she verbally voices her feeling to everyone and has never really felt the need to hide them. We already know she’s upset by the situation, and is probably going to have some sort of mildly poor coping mechanism, but she is going to be the most emotionally okay out of everyone. Not because she is feeling okay, but because she’s the most in tune with her own feelings, and with how to properly handle those feelings.
I’m not saying she’s going to be perfectly okay over this. She is obviously still very hurt and troubled. I am also not trying to downplay her emotions. She is definitely going to need the others to help her. This portion isn’t short because I don’t like her, it’s just short because she is genuinely the best off in this situation. She knows how to find help when she needs it and, even better, she will ask for it.
Monty & Lunar
I’m sticking them together because I feel very similar ways about them.
I do not understand their reactions to the current situation.
Monty is more understandable. He was always closer to Moon than he was to Nexus. That much was very obvious. The moment Moon came back they got drunk and partied, and then feel right back into their old friendship. Monty was seemingly completely unaffected by Nexus’ change of heart. He very much only cares about themself and Earth.
The way he’s acting currently is not helping the situation. At all. It’s even worse than Moon’s reaction, in my opinion. Moon at least feels he is helping Sun. Monty is doing nothing. “Nexus is dead? Cool. Let’s hide this from Earth because it will hurt her and I can’t stand seeing that.” That is going to hurt Earth a lot worse in the long run if she was never told. She doesn’t like lies, even by omission. You already are hurting others by being apathetic, do not hurt Earth because seeing her hurt will hurt you. That’s fucked up.
Then there’s Lunar. I’ve already talked about my feelings on him, but I still cannot figure him out. He’s always been a very apathetic character when he’s not interested or running from emotional pain. But this? This feels almost malicious. He doesn’t seem to care. Usually when he is running, he’ll verbally tell everyone he knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s bad. But right now he is not saying anything. His is either dissociating from the problem to the point he is numb, or he is so genuinely unbothered that there isn’t any sort of care in his heart.
This doesn’t feel like Lunar. This has never been his reaction to anything before. We haven never seen this from him at this scale. It feels so violently out of character for someone who is very emotional and loud about it.
At this point, I am starting to wonder if the Star power is having a bigger effect on him than we think. We all know that the Astrals deal with apathy to most things. Even Castor and Pollux has said they don’t react to things like most people expect them to. They do not have the ability to care in a way the feels human. Since Lunar has been training to become an Astral, I’m starting to wonder if this will begin to mentally change him as well.
I am not saying that apathy is a bad thing to have. I am not saying Lunar is wrong to feel this way. I am simply saying it feels violently out of character, and is not helpful in the situation at all.
These two are currently being the least helpful in this situation. They do not care, and do not feel the need to soften their apathy and help the others. Lunar is actually the most unsympathetic out of the group, which is actually a stark contrast to how he usually is portrayed.
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lnsfawwi · 1 year ago
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bucky is anti-peggy: their relationships with steve and why bucky will always overshadow peggy as love interest
hardly anything novel but I have to get it out of my system. interpretations are strictly in-universe just to be fair. also seb headcanons are canon, I won't hear otherwise!
the difference between stucky and steggy can be summed up by their respective reactions to beefed-up Steve. someone on tumblr points out that these two scenes also serve as analogies of their relationships. steggy would always be about peggy reaching out, their relationship would be under the spotlight, be the center of attention while stucky is the reverse. I just want to add to that.
Peggy was literally dazzled, she tried to touch his naked body, she was eager to see what this body could do (sexually, among other things). that's the first time she saw steve as sexually attractive, the first time she saw steve at all if we are honest, and what she saw was this jacked-up version of him, an icon-to-be, someone whom steve never really accepted as himself. In essence, the first time she really paid attention to steve as the love interest, was the moment steve became someone else.
Bucky, who was tortured for days, if not weeks, still delirious, was confused bc that was not his steve, he probably didn't even think Steve was real at first. Bucky was experimented on, he likely knew there were similar human experiments aimed to enhance, he knew science like that was possible, but whose science? so that's the first question, 'what happened?' Steve joined the army, okay, so this was not forced onto him, probably. then the next thing he asked was, 'did it hurt?' he didn't care how strong it made Steve, he only wanted assurance that Steve was fine. like, what if the process hurt? what could bucky possibly do? nothing. it's not about whether it hurt, it was just bucky simply giving a shit about steve's wellbeing. we don't even need to get into the 'little kid from brooklyn' line.
peggy witnessed a magical transformation and was amazed by the eventual product but bucky saw his best friend who must've gotten through something excruciating. peggy could never fall in love with skinny steve when that's all bucky saw, until the very end (sebastian said bucky probably never got used to big steve).
another contrast would be the final plane crash. sebastian was asked whether Bucky would've gotten on that plane with Steve or stayed behind like Peggy. seb's answer is that Bucky would've tried to get on that plane cuz he felt responsible for steve, and he'd fall again.
the thing is that, had Bucky been on that plane, Steve never would've crashed it. he would've done anything to save Bucky. he didn't have to crash that plane which was canon (pointed out by rhodey). steve could've got out but he didn't. Bucky being there would've given him the motivation to do so. any other person would tbh, but only Bucky would be willing to be on that plane bc Peggy canonly wasn't. in addition to bucky's willingness to follow steve literally into the jaws of death, in this hypothetical scenario, Bucky would be the reason for Steve to live in catfa.
that leads to yet another contrast.
'just go! get out of here!' 'no, not without you!'
steve, who had no idea what he was capable of, jumped through fire for bucky.
'don't do this, there's still time, let me find a way...' 'a lot of people are gonna die if I don't do this, peggy. this's my choice.'
despite peggy's pleading, steve crashed the plane.
the word choice appeared several times in catfa. the first time was when peggy told philip that it was steve's choice (to die trying to save bucky). the second time was when peggy told steve that bucky made a choice (to die fighting with him). and the third time was when steve told peggy it was his choice (to sacrifice himself). it's no coincidence that each and every time the choice was each other, steve echoing the word at the end made it clear that he was doing this for bucky.
a relationship goes both ways. steve and bucky are canonly willing to, and did, die and live for each other. peggy simply doesn't have that level of impact on steve. in fact, steve literally repeatedly chose bucky over her in catfa.
put it simply, bucky and steve care more about each other than themselves, peggy didn't even care about skinny steve in that sense. she also literally couldn't because she only met skinny steve twice. briefly.
plus as I said previously bucky is the only one standing in between a traditional cishet hypermasculine image of steve and the real steve, peggy is the one element that fulfils the false image.
everything bucky is, peggy is the opposite. the differences quite literally result in different interpretations of steve. and who can say honestly that endgame steve is better than cap trilogy steve?
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callsign-rogueone · 1 year ago
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our girl - d.a + x.r.
Dain Aetos x reader x Xaden Riorson You and Xaden have been hooking up for a while now, but Threshing throws a wrench (and another person) into your relationship. [request] words: 2.5k (went a little overboard lol, this dynamic was so fun to think about) 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS. NSFW at the end. she/her reader. I did this one a little differently; a full scene with dialogue, and then headcanons about what the relationship would be like (sfw, nsfw + angst; I apologize in advance…) banner made by user cafekitsune!
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You dismount, managing to land on your feet. Maybe the gauntlet had been good practice after all, and not just a form of torture. The flight field is slowly filling in with dragons and their chosen riders. Dain is standing next to you with a massive red daggertail. Nice.
Your two dragons look at each other, and for a moment you’re worried they’re going to start a fight, but they just bump heads softly. They’re… friends?
Then Dain’s dragon turns toward you, looking you in the eye, and you freeze, holding completely still as it sniffs you. You must pass inspection, because he pulls back after a few seconds, satisfied, but you don’t dare move, your heart still pounding.
“Relax, girl. I will not hurt you.”
You startle at the second voice speaking to you, stumbling back in shock. A shimmering red string has appeared beside the soft blue one you share with Lann. You tug on it gently, and Dain’s eyes snap toward you, having felt the pull.
“They’re mated.”
“Smart boy,” Cath purrs.
You’re still trying to get used to having another being speaking in your head, hearing your every thought, but now you have two?
You don’t have time to complain about it before Xaden comes running toward you.
Both Lann and Cath stand taller, flaring their nostrils. Cath looks like he’s contemplating how Xaden would taste.
Xaden comes to a stop a few yards away, not wanting to provoke them. It’s easy enough for him to put it together, seeing Dain standing behind you with the mated pair. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Cath blows a puff of foul-smelling steam at Xaden in warning. “Tell him to watch his tone.” 
You don’t.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Xaden says, a look in his eye you’ve never seen before; pure anger.
You take a step back, bumping into Lann’s foreleg. She curls her neck down, placing her head between your body and Xaden’s. You’ve only been bonded all of ten minutes, but she’s already willing to protect you with her life.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Dain challenges, crossing his arms. “Nor is it mine.” 
Your stomach flips. You’d never expected that Dain would be the one defending you here.
“I should gut you before the bond gets any stronger,” Xaden threatens. What is he so mad for?
“You of all people should know that the consequences can be dire. You won’t risk her life in that way.”
“What the hell are the two of you talking about?” You ask, but they don’t answer, too busy threatening each other.
“Human males and their arguing,” Lann sighs. “Were they dragons, they’d fight to the death and the victor would keep you.”
“That remains a possibility,” you reply quietly, still watching the two of them. Xaden certainly looks like he’s contemplating murder right now. 
“I could just incinerate him, but Sgaeyl would have my head if I did,” Cath muses, sounding bored. “And you seem attached.”
You turn to glare at him. “Not funny.”
“Threats from someone your size are only humorous,” Cath replies, still watching the two men argue.
“Like it or not, Riorson, she’s my responsibility now,” Dain says firmly. What is that supposed to mean? Why does Dain care all of a sudden if you live or die?
“Do not forget that you have a voice in this matter, too,” Lann adds.
She’s right.
“Quit it, both of you!” You interrupt before they can come to blows, and both boys turn toward you, quieting. “Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!”
Their eyes soften.
“Darling, I didn’t mean-“ Xaden begins.
You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at the boy. “I’m not done,” you say, and he falls silent. “Dain’s right; neither of us asked for this, but it happened, and there’s no changing it now. I know you two hate each other, but I will not have you two fighting over me like I’m some kind of object. Neither of you have any claim to me. I’m not your girlfriend, and even if I was, you still don’t own me. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions and keep myself safe.”
Neither of them respond, silent and guilty as your words settle in.
“And that is why I chose you,” Lann says proudly.
You ignore the compliment, stepping away from her and turning to leave, swiping the tears from your cheeks.
“I apologize, shrewd one.”
“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “You didn’t know.”
—————————————————
“Professor Kaori?” You ask quietly. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
He already knows why you’re here. “I heard about you and Aetos. Cath and Lann have been mated for nearly two centuries. Their bond is strong.”
“Have you known many other pairs like them?”
“A few,” he answers. “Dragons can live for millennia. Unlike us, they do not fall in love at age twenty, and they are quite selective with their partner. It is a lifelong commitment for them, and not one they take lightly.”
“And their riders?” You ask, holding your breath.
“A pair at Montserrat, who are now married, and another pair who regard each other like blood sisters.” 
He doesn’t mention anyone like you and Dain, who hardly know each other and don’t really care to.
“I‘ll make this clear with you, cadet, as you need to know this and accept it; you and Aetos will be stuck together until the end of your days. The four of you must exist as a functional unit. The grief of one of your deaths may be enough to end you all.”
Your eyes widen. So that’s why Xaden had been so pissed.
“You are both excellent students who will undoubtedly become skilled riders,” Kaori says. “Get to know each other in the coming weeks, and settle your differences sooner than later. The health of your relationship, even if it remains strictly professional, is vital.”
You thank him quietly, heading back to your room. You don’t have time to stew over the news; you have assignments due tomorrow.
Two hours pass. You’ve just finished proofreading your essay when there’s a knock on the door.
Dain and Xaden. You motion for them to come in, knowing that the two of them together outside your door will look deeply suspicious to any passerby. 
“What the fuck do you two want?”
Xaden nods at Dain, motioning for him to talk.
“We discussed it, and we realized you’re right. We’re just going to have to deal with this, and there’s no use in us fighting about it.”
Xaden speaks next. “You’ve proven that you can handle yourself, but we both still want to protect you. We care for you deeply, and that’s not going to change. We’re declaring a truce.”
“Whose idea was that?” You ask, wary.
“His,” Dain answers. Interesting. 
You look to Xaden. “And you’re fine with this,” you say, motioning between you and Dain, “that we’ll be able to speak directly to each other, that we can’t be apart for more than a few days, that we’re going to be stationed together for life?”
“Yes. I trust him not to hurt you, if only because his life is now tied to yours.”
That’s high praise coming from Riorson, who doesn’t fully trust anyone. You don’t dare ask why he feels this way.
“As you said,” Xaden continues, the tone of his voice making your heart flutter, “I hold no claim to you. You remain your own person, no matter how strongly I feel for you or how many nights we have spent together. The decision lies with you.”
“Dain?” You ask. 
He’s been silent, watching you with a softness in his eyes. He’d never taken a good look at you before, never appreciated how beautiful you are. “If he’s okay with it, and you are, then I am too.”
You’d never felt compassion for Dain, never cared if he lived or died, but now you’re overwhelmed with a sense that you need to protect him — to guard that little red string until your last breath. “I care for both of you as well. You’re both good men, who are important to me, and I’d like to have you remain in my life, if you promise to play nicely.”
You extend a pinky to each of them.
Dain looks confused.
“She doesn’t fuck around with pinky promises. This might as well be a blood oath for her,” Xaden explains, interlocking your fingers — this isn’t new to him.
Dain reaches forward, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a wave of soothing energy through you.
“Are you going to make us pinky promise each other too?” He asks playfully, the first joke you’ve ever heard him crack.
Xaden is unamused. “Don’t push it, Aetos.”
You giggle at his barely-restrained contempt. This is gonna be fun.
———————————————
sfw
Most of the quadrant know that yours and Dain’s dragons are mated, and that messing with one of the four of you means invoking the wrath of the other three. For the first time since conscription day, you can walk the halls alone without fearing for your life.
Nobody is aware of Xaden’s role in the relationship, and he prefers to keep it that way — it keeps the target off your back, and this way nobody can say that he’s giving you special treatment or shame you for having two partners. Garrick is the only person who knows about all of this, and he’s sworn to secrecy (that had certainly been an interesting conversation to have).
Xaden may not declare his feelings for you publicly, but he and Sgaeyl are always watching your back, ready to jump in should Dain not be there or should things get out of his control.
The two act generally indifferent to each other, but their love of you is enough for them to behave when you’re around.
They find a good balance between treating you like a princess and pushing you to be the best you can be, letting you do your own work and prepare yourself for what’s to come after graduation. 
nsfw:
The first time you felt Lann and Cath going at it was... interesting.
Xaden knew that this would happen eventually, having felt the same feeling before from Tairn and Sgaeyl. He had warned you days prior that the overwhelming need could lead you astray easily, but that he wouldn’t be mad if you and Dain acted on it.
And act you did. You became addicted to Dain’s touch as soon as you felt it, not wanting it to be a one-time thing, and that’s when the three of you decided that the boys would share you.
We all know Xaden is possessive. He used to call you “my girl” when it was just the two of you hooking up, but now you’re their girl.
“Aww, is our pretty girl needy?”
“I think our girl deserves a reward for being so good.”
Dain is shy at first, but he works up the confidence to start teasing you through the bond. He loves to watch you squirm from across the room as his voice speaks directly into your mind, telling you how hot you looked sparring, what he’s going to do to you tonight…
Xaden does something similar, his shadows brushing your arms and neck, sometimes even slipping under your clothes to touch your body when he can’t, giving soft caresses to your back and waist, but he’ll never take it too far — just enough to make you want his hands on you instead. 
They’re competitive as hell. They’ll tag team you, taking turns to see who can make you cum harder/faster. Your personal record is six times in one night, three apiece before you nearly passed out. They declared a tie, putting aside their egos to care for their sweet girl who had taken it all so well for them.
Sometimes you get both of them at once, and it’s a little overwhelming but so so good. Making out with one while the other is on his knees for you, or one holding your hand and telling you how pretty you look while the other pounds you into the mattress…
The two of them together are the ultimate brat taming combo, with Dain’s strictness and Xaden’s strength. If you give them attitude, get too cozy with another rider, purposely put yourself in danger, or neglect to take care of yourself (overworking, skipping meals, not getting enough sleep…), you’ll have some consequences to face when you’re back behind closed doors that night.
Xaden will tie your hands behind your back with his shadows, Dain edging you until you cry and apologize, promising that you’ll never break their rules again (but you inevitably do, and then they have to teach you your lesson all over again, hehe)
Despite how rough they can be with you, they always take incredibly good care of you afterward, staying to clean you up and hold you close, reminding you how much they love you.
You’re always in the middle when cuddling afterward, as they refuse to touch each other more than absolutely necessary, but you don’t complain, just happy to be held and fall asleep safe between your two strong men 🥰
and now some angst, because that’s what I do:
When you and Dain came back from RSC, bloody and limp, Xaden took care of both of you, finally showing some love to Dain and taking pity on him, helping bandage his wounds and wash the dried blood from his skin.
Eventually Xaden starts distancing himself from the two of you, worried that Dain will read his memories either on purpose or by accident, and find out about his dealings with the gryphon fliers, which you have no idea about.
He plays it off as being busy with third year / wingleader stuff, and you and Dain don’t think anything of it; Xaden has always been withdrawn, never the type to share his thoughts unprompted, and he likes to spend time alone.
When Violet bonds with Tairn at threshing, you realize how Xaden had felt when he realized you and Dain were tied together, only you were less angry and more sad. 
You knew this would happen, that Tairn would have to choose a rider eventually, but it still hurt you deeply. Dain held you all night, whispering sweet things to you while you cried and promising that he would never ever leave you.
You decide to rip the bandage off first, finding Xaden alone a few days later and telling him that for the sake of all four of you and your dragons, this should end here.
He agreed quietly, giving you one last kiss and holding you for a few minutes before finally letting go. 
When Basgiath found out about the revolution, about everything going on beyond the wards, the two of you didn’t hesitate to follow Xaden to Aretia — he may no longer be yours, but you still love him and would gladly fight by his side until the end of your days. 💔
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act-like-anangel · 3 months ago
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I don’t know what just happened
All i know was that i was looking at Batfam and PK civ and PVP civ fanart
next thing i know i’m wondering about what would happen if the batfam met either of the Evbos cause from what know, PVP Evbo is prob around 16-18 i think and PK Evbo is prob around the same age maybe a little older.
How would the Batfam react to PVP Evbo having to die over and over again, being farmed like an animal for his sword? We don’t even know the actual timeframe for how long he was being tortured and killed, for all we know he could’ve been there for a month or two just dying over and over again, barely being fed enough to live but not enough to stave off the hunger. Having to be the ‘chosen one’ for people who don’t even care about you, who see you as a tool, not a human with real feelings.
How would the Batfam react to PVP Evbo only knowing violence from the start of his existance to now, because that’s all his world runs on, barely blinking when he has to kill someone because of how normalised it is. He also deadass could’ve dropped his sword whenever he needed to be farmed but just decided to be killed anyways??
Having to live in a civilization where he has to pay for bare necessities with his life, living with the knowledge of when exactly he’ll die.
How would the Batfam react to PK Evbo who was put on the Noob level who had to do parkour for the barest amount of food, the food being RAW chicken. or a piece of RAW beef. Not having enough food to even sprint or run but still having to jump precisely from block to block or else he’d fall into the void. Only having one neighbour left because all his other ones had died, and even that one is gone now too. How would they react to him being surprised at the idea of cooked food at the Pro level not to mention actually being able to eat it.
How would they react to Evbo barely having any time to relax in the Pro level before being challenged to a battle where he could DIE and having a totem given to him and the task of ranking up again thrust onto him. Literally dying and coming back to life after dying from fall damage which definitely hurt. Ranking up to a master, meeting Seawatt and finding out that his earliest memories were fake. He never even had any friends.
Being drugged and sent to fight the champion right after waking up and having to kill people in a parkour battle and ending up losing anyways, their lives and deaths being in vain. Being given the boots of his old mentor and having to immediately go and beat a tyrant after just waking up from what he thought was his death. Winning and having to take the responsibilities and make all the needed changes to civilization because who else knows it better than him when he’s been a Noob, a Pro, a Master and now a Champion.
Jumping into the void just hoping he won’t die, finding out his best friend has gone missing with no knowledge about wether or not he’s alive. How would they react to him being manipulated and tricked into doing several courses and going through the glass and crystal courses, sharpness of both making itself known to his hand. Going back and having to immediately do the neo course. Going to the parkour temple to end up having to follow in with the plan of destroying civilization because if he doesn’t his best friend will die.
How would they react to him having his rank stolen and having to save his friend before going to the altar of the Parkour God and jumping in the void hoping again that this wouldn’t be for nothing. Having to face the mentor who he knows is the reason for all of this, the person who separated innocent people from the rest of civilization for the action of one man. Letting them die out.
Having to fail another jump and again hoping that it wouldn’t be for nothing. Going back to his civilization that he was supposed to protect and seeing what the villain has done to it. Seeing his people’s empty cells knowing it’s empty cause they’re dead. Going to the master level and having to kill one of his own citizens because they’re so scared of the villain and what he would do to them if they didn’t listen. Going to the top with the knowledge that he’d probably die soon by the Villain using the command blocks to auto-kill him, having his hope ignited once he realises he has to do a parkour race instead, confident in himself before that confidence and hope is gone as fast as it came.
Jumping into the void again, waking up thinking he’s dead, finding out that he’s inheriting the powers of the Parkour God. Beating the villain and sitting with the knowledge that he’s god now. He doesn’t have to do anything anymore.
How would the Batfam react to that? A boy who knows too much, has done too much, and gone through too much.
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