#and may be blamed for my love of them since
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This is an interesting point about art.
People in 2024 will say that for e.g. far right art can't be good, but the thing is, people who believe terrible things have made great art since always. Ayn Rand genuinely moves people. I don't get it, I find her prose dull, but she does. Hitler wrote a bestseller. Thomas of Aquinas blamed women for many of his problems and is still more revered than not. And of course every year another Joss Whedon turns out to have been terrible all along and we all have to discover that we didn't REALLY love everything he did for twenty years. I'm not even going to address the elephant in that room, but you all know its looming sorting-hat-shaped shadow.
The reason most extremist art is terrible now is, I think, that extremists are no longer willing to traffic in implication. For example, I'm a Christian (I love you gay Methodists), and I like the Conjuring movies even though the Warrens were terrible.
These movies are explicitly pro-Christian. They believe in an afterlife, heaven, hell, demons exorcism. On the culturally conservative end, they're about a loving cis heterosexual married couple with a beloved daughter, and they never mention or acknowledge that LGBT people exist that I can recall.
Right-wing Christians will not watch or accept these films, because they are horror films, or because they don't adhere strictly to the doctrine of a given denomination. For a movie to be publicly acceptable as a Christian film by contemporary American Christianity, it has to either be a Bible story or be God's Not Dead, a movie where (spoilers!) an atheist left-wing college professor gets hit by a car and Christians coerce him into converting in order to ensure that he goes to Heaven.
This creates a bizarre environment where left-wing films are unacceptable because they have left-wing implications, but films with right-wing implications are unacceptable because they are not right-wing enough.
As a horror fan, this is not only bizarre but hilarious. Many horror fans will watch something based on a vibe regardless of its philosophical implications, because you don't have to agree with a film in order for it to scare you. I think this is why The Conjuring franchise is so popular even though I suspect horror fans lean further left than a lot of other filmgoers.
So the ultimate result of this is that fundamentally conservative art is more likely to be observed and discussed by people further to the left than the artist, just like this social media post. This is important, because ideas should be seen and discussed so that we can openly decide which ones are hot garbage, just like the original anonymous message. And I think it's also important because if we only acknowledge and boost what we disagree with that actually has artistic merit, the overall marketplace of ideas still benefits by examining different perspectives without admitting the ones that amount to inarticulate screaming at a minority group.
This is especially important to me because it's how I was de-radicalized as a young person from my very right-wing conservative upbringing - by interacting with critical examination of ideas in art as well as by meeting real people that did not reflect the demonized image of minorities that I grew up around. I think both of those things are important to those that process. And that can't happen unless someone drags forward anonymous pieces of artful hate into the light of day so that we may submit them to the dissecting pins and scalpel of real criticism.
Normally, I just block people and leave their nonsense unposted... but this is art.
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Random Astrology Observations (Alternative Meanings Love Edition) 2 🤨❤️🤔
DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form a professional astrologer, modern or traditional.
I HAVE been studying astrology for a while now, and analysing charts available to me, as well as my own, and noticed a lot of the info you find online doesn't make sense in real life, because it is too reductive, stereotypical or lacks broader context. So I thought I'd share some of my personal observations to see if it resonates with anyone.
This is NOT the end all, be all. Apply it as it makes sense to you.
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The 1st House 🙋♂️
The 1H in synastry is a tricky one, because the first house itself is related to our individual identity. It is the house of self. So, when it comes to having a love planet here, things can get really murky. You'll often hear that it indicates instant attraction, but also only surface-level. While that is not entirely wrong, it would be a disservice to reduce it to just that. Yes, first house ties back to your physical appearance and external impact. But what does that mean for someone else being impacted and impacting that? Does it even apply in synastry? The answer is: YES. And it goes much deeper than you'd think. It will talk about an immediate recognition. It talks of being mesmerized by someone's look and demeanor, but that comes accompanied with an obsessive need to know more about you, to be around you, to soak up as much of you as possible, as if to aggressively learn you. And that's because you will tickle all the boxes the person had been holding inside (and vice-versa).
(e.g.: having someone's planet(s) fall into your 1st house doesn't just mean they will be attracted to you, if it's romantic. It also means the person feels like you two share a vibe, share interests, ideas. It means they feel like you move according to their speed, and therefore, that could lead to a lot of trust and comfort on their part, because you feel like a safe place. Not in the same sense as the 4H, but in a more "this person will have my back, cause we're the same!" kind of way. It makes the person feel like you are enough, because you fit them. So even if everyone else disagrees with them or doesn't understand them, they'll sort of look over at you, and if you validate them, that will be enough for them. They'd rather have your approval – since you are someone who gets them – than to have the approval of a bunch of people who don't understand where they are coming from.)
It truly is a beautiful thing, but even positive planets with positive aspects can lead to unwanted side-effects. The house person could come to resent the planet person because of how much they like them. Depending on who the house person is – if they have a dominant or prideful personality, for example – they may come to resent and even become angry with the planet person at times, because they'll feel so strongly for the planet person that they could start acting out of character for them, and that can make them feel like they're losing control of themselves. And as human beings, what do we do when we feel out of control? Shift blame and start looking for culprits. This DOES tend to wear off, though, exactly because of how intensely the house person feels for the planet person, but it can burn hot for a minute or two, specially if they end up getting into an ugly fight and the 1H person tries to forget the planet person, but they can't bring themselves to hate them. They'll get angry at the fact that no matter how hard they try to hate the person, they still feel enchanted by them.
(this could also create an unwanted feeling of "nobody else is like them", so the 1H could panic a bit at the thought of losing the planet person because 1H synastry creates the immediate feeling of the "perfect person for me", so imagine thinking you found the perfect person for you... it can make you feel like if you lose them you'll never recover, because no one else will be like them or able to replace them as perfectly)
All in all, though, first house Synastry tends to usually show up good results, depending on the planets and aspects involved. Another aspect of this synastry that doesn't get talked about for some reason is the fact that they tend to obsess over and notice the tiny details in each other. So it creates this effect of falling for them over and over and over again, cause they'll keep finding little things about the other person that they find enchanting, and THAT'S what creates the physical attraction. It's not that the planet or house person are conventionally attractive to everyone – they might not even fit the beauty standards –, but to the house person, those little details will sort of build up the planet person's beauty step by step, and by the time they catch on, they'll be enamored with every part of them, so, to the house person, the planet person truly is the most beautiful thing ever.
(1H house synastry also brings a 1st house energy to the attraction. NO - NOT ARIES. First house. But it will sound like arian qualities because Aries does rule the first house, after all. What this means is that a big part of the attraction for the 1H person is feeling like the planet person is independent, self-sufficient, confident, self-assured and capable. Because it's taping into their 1st house of self, the house person can sort of see the best of themselves reflected on the planet person, which means they feel like all the things they are insecure to show the world, the planet person has and is not afraid to show them. So they feel like planet person not only embodies their attraction ideal, but also the ideal personality they wish they had themselves. Which they do, but they don't realize it until planet person comes along and brings it out of them.)
First house Synastry is a complex kind of Synastry that is much more psychological than it's given credit for. People often focus on superficial physical attraction and gloss over the fact that it's like somebody is literally stepping into your mind and making your inner fantasies come out. It can feel very vulnerable and intense.
The 7th House 💍
Oh, isn't this one a gem?! Perhaps one of the most sought after in synastry. But the idea here is to provide an alternative perspective, so here goes: if it's badly aspected, or there's other challenging factors involved (the person falling into your 7H is problematic themselves), you're gonna run into the issues people often attribute to 1st house synastry, such as superficiality and a "false love" because 7H Synastry, regardless if it's good or bad, creates somebody who's "perfect on paper". They say the right things, they do the right things, they seem to fit into your whole ideals. But that does not guarantee that that's who they truly are. That's just who you think they are. Remember – the 7H is the house of "other". So it's not about you. It's about the other. But it's rather how you act around said other, and also how you perceive them.
(It's tough to say this, but you gotta be real to help some people out there who might have had 7H Synastry and didn't understand why the relationship failed, since everyone online claims it's a guaranteed soulmate. It's because Synastry goes both ways. And all houses have good and bad. There is no such thing as the perfect Synastry. But in the case of the 7H, I'd say it's the real life case of "if it's good, then it will be amazing. Truly a soulmate. But if it's bad... it will be awful. Just not immediately.)
Going off of the previous comment, another grim way this Synastry can turn out is in its binding effect. And I don't mean anything spiritual or abstract here. I mean literally binding. Imagine a relationship going sideways like that AND you are also now married or share a business together. MESS! This is the house of contracts and long-term. Remember Saturn exalts in Libra, because Libra likes things that last, and Saturn is the planet of long-term, so the house of Libra will sprinkle that lasting effect over whatever it touches. And if you're in a 7H relationship, that relationship will last with you, whether good or bad. It will take A WHILE to break off from it, either mentally, emotionally, psychologically, legally or financially.
(e.g. somebody has their moon in your 7H, but it's a moon at fall, in Scorpio, and it's afflicted in their natal chart. Now, at the beginning they will seem like a gift from God directly to you, so much so that you decide to make it official... And then, one or two years in, living together, each day it gets more toxic and draining and the dark sides just oozes out of your relationship. But now you are legally married, and divorcing will take time, bureaucracy, money and emotional energy, not to mention you'll have to uproot your entire life, explain it to your social circles and families... And what seemed like your dream come true was in fact a bitter lesson to learn).
To veer away from the dark twists of the last ones, let's dissect the correlations people make with the 7th house, like "oh, your spouse will be interested in art, and beauty, and music, and sophisticated things!" Why? Are you marrying a Libra? A Libra rising? Somebody with a Libra Venus? No? Then that has nothing to do with 7H Synastry. Houses are not signs, signs are not houses. Libra is one thing, the 7H is another. Venus rules Libra, which resides in the 7H, but Venus doesn't rule the 7H. It merely influences the 7H. It would be a better guess to say you might have met your person while they (or you) were already in a relationship than it is to say you met because of beauty-related things, or art, or music, since the 7H doesn't talk of any of those things, but it DOES talk of committed relationships.
(e.g. you might have met the person right after they (or you) got divorced. They might be connected to an ex of yours. Or another possibility that isn't talked about is how the person you eventually end up with is someone you have liked for a long time, but never got the chance to be with until now. Since this is the house of long-term relationships, having placements here could indicate that the person you ultimately stay with long-term is someone you already knew prior to getting together, but you needed to experience other relationships before you united with them.)
Another final aspect of placements in this house is the fact that it doesn't just deal with your love relationships, but also the way you consciously present yourself with others. How you behave socially. But also the mirror effect of this house, speaking directly about love. This is, after all, the house directly opposing the 1st house of self. In that regard, this is similar to 1H synastry, with the exception that in this one, instead of you coming out of your shell subconsciously, you make a conscious effort to become your best for your person here. You want to live up to all of your potential.
The 2nd House 💆♂️
This one is a bit tricky for me, because I'm not materialistic AT ALL. I have a Taurus Lilith in the 2nd house, so, I express it on the other end of the spectrum. When you have that placement, you either put too much value on money and material things, or you are completely unattached from it, and that's me. So the whole "money this, money that!" vibe is not my scene. I don't see a price in life, I see value. With that said, let's get this going.
Yes, this is the house of money and material things. Yes, it will deal with your personal finances. But no, unless other parts of your chart/Synastry agree with it, somebody's placements falling here should not have a lasting effect. It might merely indicate you overspending on dates and gifts. The 2H is the house of YOUR money, which means that the whole "oh, they're gonna shower you in gifts!", "And this is a sugar baby aspect!", "Your person will want to spend all their money on you and buy you expensive things!" is probably not gonna happen, sorry. If it does, it will be you spending your money.
(And if you do spend your money, the whole "gifts" thing is also not that common, because normal people don't just go around buying gifts for others every other day of the week, unless they have some sort of imbalance. Such a consumerist mindset! Not everything is about paying for things or buying things. That's a VERY American culture of dating, specially for women. This nasty idea that a man has to buy you or he's not good. Which is what encourages habits like thinking the man always has to be covering your finances (how old are you, 5? Get a job and pay for your own damn self! You are an adult woman), paying for your food, buying you a house, giving you gifts all the time and affording expensive dates. You are not a product. If your biggest incentive to be with a man is because of how much he pays for you, then that's the world's oldest profession, not a relationship of love. So this should play out more like them helping you manage your own finances. Don't go around thinking a 2H love placement is gonna turn you into Cinderella.)
If you do happen to be a stay-at-home person in your relationship, which is valid, as long as it's not all about money, 2H love placements and synastry will talk more about other material aspects of things. It will talk of stability, sustainability, longevity and security.
(e.g.: it could mean that you allocate your resources towards creating a safe, stable environment for your life together to flourish, such as buying things for your home together, revising your finances to make life goals and plans together more viable, setting budgets to achieve milestones together... as well as the literal physical aspects of valuables, so using your resources towards nourishment (food, shelter, clothing and health). Things that will ensure your relationship lasts and endures through hardships and tribulations. In the 2H of values, Synastry could indicate the relationship itself becoming your prized possession that you take care of. All the Earth houses are about caring for things, just in different ways.)
Another poorly explored aspect of the 2H is values in the moral, spiritual and emotional sense. It's WORTH. Both the causes you find worthy as well as your self-worth. A 2H love placement or Synastry can and will directly affect that. Even if you do happen to be dealing with financial/material things too, that can affect your self-worth directly.
(e.g.: say you are married to someone who is constantly in debt, or say your spouse is the breadwinner of the household and you depend on them financially. That can really take a toll on your self-worth. It can bring feelings of poor self-esteem, can you make you feel undervalued, inadequate, make you feel like a burden, or make you feel incapable of caring for yourself. It can strike your self-confidence and make you VALUE yourself less. Or the opposite. Your spouse may open you up to new possibilities of making money, which in turn gets you into a new passion project that you succeed in and that can make you feel like a worthy person, make you believe in yourself, make you feel important and valuable.)
I would argue that most often, it's the 8H Synastry that will really have your partner's materials affecting you, because the 2H is the house of your PERSONAL gains, while the 8H is the house of OTHERS' gains and possessions. Most often, the biggest impact I'd say 2H love placements have will be dealing with self-worth, self-confidence, shared values and morals, feelings of belonging and acceptance.
General Things ✨
What I see most often is that positive and negative outcomes tend to happen simultaneously. It's not all doom and gloom, but it's also not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's not so great, and those ups and downs come and go. That's just life. Both are there to be worked with, worked for, or worked through. At the end of the day, astrology will not mandate your life events, and you have to always be learning from your life, and working on yourself and the things that matter to you. Astrology is just a guiding light to identify possible themes to be mindful of.
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That's it! Thank you if you've read it this far! I might have come off a bit harsh (I hope I haven't), but I promise I'm nice lol.
My whole goal is to try to discuss astrology in as realistically as possible, but while making it clear that any possible outcome is plausible. If most times all you hear are fantastic stereotypical descriptions of placements, such as 7H, the not so great ways in which it can play out will be explored here to help people navigate them. If all you hear are bad things about a house, then I'll try to show the positive ways in which it can come out.
The whole point is to try to bring a wide range of notions to these descriptions, together with the information that is already out there and available by many other creators.
At the end of the day, remember this is all POSSIBILITIES. Your personal life has to be analysed to know what's gonna ensue. And don't be discouraged, because the truth is that positive and negative effects tend to happen together for your best.
Hope you have a good day when you find this!
MASTERLIST
#astro notes#astro observations#astrology observations#astrology#natal chart#astrology notes#synastry observations#synastry#zodiac#composite chart
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there's one major thing that's been nagging on me about l&co adaptation ever since my first watch: if we were to get season 2, how would they set up the conflict of THB?
i can get behind some of reinterpretation of characters and their mannerisms, character traits (i.e. Lockwood dressing less formal and not being a know-it-all, Lucy being less hateful towards George, seeing Kipps as he's actively losing his talent, George Karim being iranian and being very close to his culture in a form of cuisine), some are good, as a fan of books i'd be eager to get to know these characters along side their book counterparts.
but alas, i can't see these characters as the same characters in both medias because too much of their characterisation was changed, and it's really hard to blame on pacing or the lack of screen time. it's the writing. some changes going as far as making me question, what were they supposed to do with this groundwork in the second season.
how would runners set up a conflict of L&Co overworking themselves after gaining fame over solving the bone glass case and accepting all calls they were getting, if show!Lockwood out right says in episode 4 that he's not interested in boring cases? not only does it get rid off of a major characterisation of Lockwood as someone who's, yes, in it for fame, but most importantly he became an agent to "avenge" his family. avenge isn't even the right word, i think. he doesn't want others to be fallen victims to a visitor, doesn't want to see other people lose their loved ones, lose their family to ghosts. not only does it make show!Lockwood rather vain and only fame driven, instead of someone dealing with deep personal trauma, but also loses one of the key points of Holly's introduction to the team. (i also love the reading of LW naming his agency Lockwood&Co as something less selfish and more about him paying a tribute to his family, that without them and visitors taking them away from him, he wouldn't start his agency and wouldn't be able to help other people.)
speaking of Holly's introduction, what exactly would have been her role at the start in the show? L&Co don't seem overworked from the 4 cases they had (2 related to TSS out of 4 in the book, Wimbledon gallows + Bickerstaff's, not counting Wilberforce's ghost and a bunch of not mentioned in dialogue cases i. e. Mrs Barrett's tomb). that already solves the problem of trio not having free time to do chores around the house. but say show says "and now they're overworked" instead of showing, sure, but it doesn't get rid of George's stress cleaning habit.
Holly was introduced as a help, as a support to the way L&Co was already running and over the books she became more than just an assistant but a beloved part of the team. without proper reasoning as to why Lockwood & Co had to get an assistant, Holly's introduction could be messy and unprompted, something like checking a box in the list of what has to happen instead of making it story driven. something like what happened to skull's character.
and a final thing that im iffy about is the ending of the first season. somehow show rushed through and speedran Lockwood's suicidal arc as well as managed to call it out by the end of show's TWS storyline, where books didn't show any progress even by the end of TEG.
but im saying call it out, not resolve. i'd actually appreciate it if show made an effort of showing that such tendencies and lack of self-preservation aren't just resolved in a second, someone saying "stop being suicidal" doesn't magically fix everything. and yet, show still speedran things, especially given that events of the show happen in only 10 days instead of a year, and Lockwood's already made very aware of his reckless behaviour aka throwing himself in danger for people, and, what's even more questionable, for people he barely knows. which, again, contradicts his character and the way he navigates trauma.
these character and plot deviations and inconsistencies may not seem critical at first, but they might build over the course of the series and lead to a complete shift in overall narrative and spirit of L&Co as a story. which i wouldn't want to see as a fan.
to put it simply, i can see why fans want for show to be picked up for a second season, but i can't see how writers could make it coherent because they wrote themselves into a corner.
#if someone has something to add please feel free to do so!#l&co#lockwood and co#l&co. netflix#anthony lockwood#holly munro#the hollow boy#complete fiction#analysis#blogposting
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T1f1 bad traits (in my opinion. Not based on game lore.)
Starting strong with Captain John "I know what is best for you" Price
It has been talked about it in here a lot. This issue stems from John "knowing" everything and dictating people left and right. His partner is no exception.
Micromanagement king.
You gotta speak some serious boundaries with this man or he will guide you and correct you just as much as he will spoil you.
The captain is very perceptive and passionate. Sometimes this passion can turn into obsession. So be aware, if you lit a certain fire within him, he can accidentally burn you with it.
Simon Ghost Riley is our number two. Reboot version - creature of habit - his "own" habit. He will annoying you with his everyday routine and will take a long, long, long time to change it.
Not because he doesn't want to, but because it is hard for him to switch habits.
This includes "forgetting his partner exists", for like the first two weeks of your relationship.
He is loyal like a dog, but will literally your existence. May even tackle you to the ground, after you move in with him, because he though you are an intruder.
Will take your stuff, without asking, so he can have your scent and get used to you.
Also, very mean humor. If he likes you, he will make fun of you, with appropriate, only for him, jokes. (This is how he tests the waters)
Will move your relationship faster. Absolute cavemen behavior. (Blame it on efficiency)
Soap Mactavish. The Sergent, not the captain. ( for the captain, combine all you read about the sergent, minus the energy and passion. He has that tamed, since, well, he is a captain)
I am sorry, but he is a nuisance. Annoying boyfriend energy and clingy af. Loud, proud and always at your hip. On the plus side - he can do tricks on command.
Like a husky, he will whine and test your patience, and boundaries.
Has A LOT of energy. Basically Sanderson on steroids. Jumps and smacks you out of nowhere.
He does not know his own strength, sometimes you wondering he everything a human being, or how his bunkies are still alive?
He is just like an annoying younger sibling, with the exception that he is your boyfriend.
And but not least,
Gaz
Fire, fire, fire.
You see how he speaks in campaing?
Guess how bitchy in everyday life he is. And he gets easily pissed especially after a long deployment.
You can't win an argument against him, even if you strip naked.
He will still hit it, but.... will keep arguing while doing so.
Yes, you are not safe.
Gaz is sassy and feels things pretty deeply. So I would be careful if I was you. Do not piss that boy off.
Also, if he headbutts with Price, or Price offers his opinion on you (paw paw is also the king of unsolicited advice) and Gaz dislikes it, he will get snappy at you. So I would avoid him, if he is in a mood.
Konig is not in the task force, but idgaf so let's go.
Very straight forward, blunt and egotistical. Kind of like Price, minus the empathy.
Will refuse to help, after he told you something didn't work and you did it anyway.
Will cave in after he remembers you are not a soldier and are someone he loves. (Or when you get mad at him)
He will get to his emotional side, eventually and drop the ego act, but until then - you are stuck with him being an ass.
I wanna say narcissist, but not quite. Idk. (Will leave that undone here, not elaborate and fuck off to the next character)
Andre Nikto
Hehe
Lose screws. A lot of them scattered around on the floor.
He is psychotic, has voices in his head and takes his medication if they all feel like it.
Trusts no one.
Will make a move on you after he makes sure they (him plus the voices) won't accidentally or on purpose hurt, or kill you.
It is complicated.
Very forward. Takes decisions and acts fast. Some say, he is a daredevil, but nobody dares to dare him to say for sure. Hehe
Expect lots of jealousy, insecurity and macho energy for him. Traditional man.
Likes when you talk to him and ask how all of them are, and group discuss (yes, you have group discussions) about whatever you want. Soooo, that's a plus. And, you have more opinions on something, so you see more sides.
Also, some voices side with you all the time, so, yeah, you got it.
He isn't THAT disfigured, but he is disfigured. He has a face, but some parts may be missing.
And he is VERY sensitive about the issues. Proceed with caution.
Gabriel T. Rorke
He is the man and will not stop showing it. Chavilerity (can't spell that), handyman behavior....mansplaining who?
He means well, just doesn't realize how annoying he is being.
At least you house is fixed.
Also, lots of trauma. He has night terrors, which he says he doesn't have (loves being tough) and will use you as his therapist.
Sorry girl, but if you get him talking, he is Sharing...sharing.
Protective and will tell men to back off of you, when needed ( it is not needed, he is just jealous and wants the pricks away from you)
#call of duty#cod men#call of duty mw2#call of duty modern warfare#john soap mactavish#cod ghost#call of duty mw3#captain john price#cod captain price#simon ghost riley#gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick#captain john mactavish#gabriel rorke#cod ghosts#konig#andre nikto#task force 141#kortac
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Silco's Last Words
In light if the second season, especially what we see of Jinx, I have thought again about Silco’s “You’re perfect.” I haven’t stumbled upon someone talking about it, though most reactors I’ve seen took Silco’s last words as a clear statement of his love for Jinx. That may be true but is not what I want to focus on.
The thing is: the writers of Arcane did a fantastic job of making each line of dialogue count. So what else could “You’re perfect” mean? Well, words were always Silco’s sharpest sword. And that’s exactly what I think they are here as well: a weapon. He uses words to forcefully embed his will onto the world, and in this case, he directs them at Jinx and no one else. To me, his sentence is not tender but cruel.
Let me explain. Look at the word “perfect.” If you take it seriously and attach it to something, it means you can’t imagine any way this something could be better. This, I assume, usually goes hand in hand with you wanting this something to stay the same. So his message to Jinx is: you are the way I want you to be. Don’t change. Don’t apologise. Go on like this.
But Jinx doesn’t think of herself as perfect. She’s torn. I’ve read somewhere: “Powder killed Silco, so Jinx killed Powder,” and in season two’s third episode, Vi explicitly blames Jinx for killing Powder. I think, however, that Powder is still in there. The ghosts of her family are still in there. To overcome her failures and the guilt of her repeatedly killing her family, Jinx leans into the chaos, into doing “evil” things. It is what Silco would have wanted were he still alive.
That’s the power of “perfect.” Jinx can’t heal, can’t repent, can’t regret. She can’t change. The only path is forward. That much, I believe, was already visible in the first season, and the second season’s first act reinforces me in this regard. In episode two, she says:
“Yep, that’s me. You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society: my card.”
She says that as an introduction, but also, in my opinion, as a self-affirmation. She is this “monster” that, in her eyes, Vi created (which I think is wrong, but that’s not the point here), the monster Silco came to love, the monster she chooses to keep alive because it’s the only thing left that ties her to the only person who embraced this side of her.
I believe she hates this side of her because it took Vander and the others from her. It is also the most influential side of her, offers her the most potent tools to make the world bend to her will instead of the other way round. This powerlessness was the overarching experience of her childhood until everything fell apart, and why would she want to repeat that? Before Silco, she received love despite what she was. With and from Silco, she received love because of what she was. After Silco, she receives maybe not love but affection from Sevika and Isha.
Sevika is a little lost, like Jinx, after Silco’s death, and Jinx means familiarity (maybe even family). Jinx is also a tool for her, though, useful because of her havoc-wreaking traits and abilities. Isha is grateful to Jinx for rescuing her by virtue of, again, her havoc-wreaking traits and abilities. Of course Jinx leans further into the monster side.
But Jinx wants to die. She could hardly be any clearer when she tells Vi, “Then stop me. ‘Cause no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to die.” She wants Vi to kill her, to end her suffering, to – that’s how I read it – restore some balance, some justice, wants Vi to finally punish her for killing her family which she knew was wrong since the very moment it dawned on her what she did in first season’s third episode. She can’t do it herself because Silco told her she was perfect.
When Jinx taunts Vi with the barely veiled innuendo about Vi wanting to have sex with Caitlyn, it shows, in my opinion, that Jinx is jealous and that she approves. She wants Vi to go on. Because she still loves Vi. That shows when she aims a pistol at an unsuspecting Vi in episode two and cries. But Jinx also cries because she can’t give Silco what he wants, because neither Silco nor Vi will love her back ever again. She cries because she knows the monster is just a patch to her broken self.
This single tear made me think about why she cried when she fired at the council at the very end of season one. I have no definite answer to that question, but perhaps she already knew back then that she could never fully become Jinx. After all, nothing but herself prevented her from killing Vi and Caitlyn right then, right there.
Perhaps she cried for Silco, too, out of grief, out of wrath. Perhaps she knew this action would put her on a path where, eventually, someone would end her suffering and let her rest, and she cried for herself, for the unfortunate girl that couldn’t safe herself, for the girl she could have been.
In the state Jinx is now – at the time of writing after season two’s second act – she reminds me of a golem: a lifeless tool, animated by magic. If we opened her head, we’d find a slip of paper inside that bears the magical words:
“You’re perfect.”
How cruel.
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Hazel?
Hazel: "Oh, come on you can't hate him forever! He's a baby."
Dev: "I think I can... hairnet..."
*The both of them unload their packages from the moving van.*
Dev: "I didn't come from a prestigious school to be on diaper duty..."
Hazel: "My brother used to not like me, when I was a baby.... since I always got in his way... but... he took it to far when we were five. We were both playing chase when he ran somewhere I couldn't find him. I'd looked for a good hour, until I cried. " *She sniffed continuing the story*
"My parents scolded me thinking I lost him. The police showed to our driveway and searched all over. They couldn't find him. I worried so badly, that I didn't wanna lose anyone again. My parents left to search town with the police, but before they did. He totally fake cried! He blamed me for losing him!! So, I was punished for it, they wouldn't listen to my side of things. So, from then on... I always stuck by you because I didn't wanna lose you."
*Dev paused on the box of plates, and quickly rushed to Hazel's side, crouching down to hold her steady.*
Dev: "Listen, you will never lose me... ok? Don't you dare say that! I love you! You're my childhood friend. Look, I may hate Timmy... but that wouldn't mean I'd scar him like your brother did you. you're my.... m-my girlfriend!"
Hazel: "G-girlfriend?"
Dev: "You know, a girl who's your friend?"
*Hazel sunk a bit but nodded. She wanted something more but this would have to do.*
Dev: "I can't promise I'll be nice to Timmy but if it makes you stop crying... I'll kill for Timm-"
*Creak!*
*Hazel and Dev both turned around to a young Timmy, peering behind the stack of boxes. Timmy immediately blushed, tripping over the boxes, his knee scraped.*
Hazel: "It's ok, I got-"
Dev: "No, let me..."
*Dev carried a sobbing Timmy to the house next door. He had forgotten about the fragile plates, but he didn’t care.*
Timmy: "I'm sorry... I'll do bette-"
*Dev set Timmy down onto the couch propping his knee up, softly shushing him before introducing himself and Hazel. Both had chatted with Timmy for hours before eventually walking back to move things in with Cosmo's help.*
Dev: "I gotta admit Timmy. Your dad is pretty strong!" *Dev jokes, playfully flexing his muscles.*
Hazel: "Your mother is also pretty flexible. I might have to steal her away!"
Timmy: "Are you two dating?"
Wanda: "Timmy!"
Dev: "Nah, it's fine... let's just say that me and her might get married soon... shh..." *He quietly whispered to Timmy before playfully booping his nose.*
Timmy: "Wow! I wanna see soon! I'll be there, I promise!"
Hazel: "I thought you hated kids..."
Dev: "I was a kid once... so, I gotta start somewhere..."
*Dev and Hazel would realize how lucky they were to be with a god-kid, neighbor and prophecy child.*
#fairly oddparents#cosmo and wanda#timmy turner#personal shit#vintage coquette#i need sleep#actually did it?#popular#why am i like this#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#hazel wells#dev dimmadome#Dev and Hazel in college? I might do that instead of 19?
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i’m actually not sure i can physically express how much i loathe the trope of redesigning the “angry character” to make them—get this!!!—
~*✧bigger than everyone else✧*~
especially when it’s framed as some big brain move to varietize body types or spice up character design
it’s like!! sorry babe! actually, you’re not smart for modeling a character’s design after the stereotypical representation of their personality!!
one might actually specifically call that boring and fucking idiotic!
#yes this is specifically about#raphael#raphael tmnt#raphael splinterson#hamato raphael#tmnt#and how i would like to personally put my fist through the eye socket of the character designer(s)#from what i've heard#the series is actually pretty good#but fucking alas!! y'all fucked up SO SPECTACULARLY on character design#that i can't so much as fucking look at a poster for it without frothing at the mouth!!!#purs#this seems out of left field probably#since i never mention tmnt#but i've loved it since i was little#grew up on the 2003 cartoon#and raph is my first Angry Boy#and may be blamed for my love of them since#which makes the trope PARTICULARLY annoying
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Okay, but hear me out:
Lord Azaghâl of Belegost
with a silly little crush on a certain Lord of Himring
and then he meets a certain prince of Noldor
and then we have Azaghâl with a silly not-so-little heartbreak after he finds out that Mae and Finno are married
(and then he supports them during the Nirnaeth)
(be like Azaghâl)
#silmarillion#the silmarillion#maedhros#azaghal#russingon#fingon#azaghal x maedhros#never really understood why no one pays them much mind#i may see them as an unrequited kind of thing#but i have fallen in love with the concept of them since i first read the silm#3 or 4 years ago and I hardly remember anything from the book#guess it's about time for re-read#meanwhile HoME in my drawer being like 'am I a joke to you'#okay it got personal#don't blame me#I have covid#I'm stuck at home#probably could spend this time on reading HoME#but my brain goes like NOOOOOOOO#who am I to disagree
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Pokémon Horizons Episode 26 spoilers under the cut!
OH SO WE WEREN'T BEING JUST DELUSIONAL,,,,,, THEY'RE DOING IT,,,,,,,,,,,, THEY'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT,,,, , ,
#fluff binges !!!#not a spoiler but can we talk about how they also switched Liko and Roy's parts and added new verses for the ending rap it was SO cute 🥺💖#I'm also gonna miss the first opening since I got attached to it but OH MY GOD THE NEW ONE............ SO INSANE. ACTUAL PEAK. I KNEEL.#ok with my spoiler tags in place now I can AKJSDHAJSNDKASJKDFNSJDFSND#OH MY GOD THEY'RE ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT THEY'RE ACTUALLY EXPLORING MY ANGSTY SON'S CHARACTER HOLY SHIT#AMETHIO BBY PLEASE I KNOW YOU'RE BROODING RN AND BEATING YOURSELF UP MENTALLY FOR THAT LOSS BUT DON'T PUSH YOUR LOVED ONES AWAYYYYYYYYYY#ZIRC AND ONIA ARE WORRIEDDDDDDDDD DO YOU SEE THEM WONDERING ABOUT YOU THEY EVEN TRIED TO TALK TO YOU BUT YOU WOULDNT BUDGEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭#I need a moment where Amethio gets to be hugged by these two fr they're legit his guardians at this rate#Amethio also only seems to open up about his vulnerability to Ceruledge from the looks of it and something about that makes me So Insane#WHAT WAS HE TRYING TO SAY IN THIS SCENE ACTUALLY LIKE . IS HE APOLOGIZING? DOES HE BLAME HIMSELF FOR THE LOSS???#IS HE AFRAID OF LOOKING WEAK TO HIS PARTNER MON OR IS HE DOUBTING THE TRUST HE HAS IN THEM...................#/head in HANDS#we're gonna get to see the explorers together again next episode and it seems like Spinel and Hamber reacted to something Amethio said#is he proposing that he go after Terapagos himself? that the others don't interfere because it's a Personal matter now from that loss?#they're not gonna like that if that's the case........ Hamber might insist on reinforcements or pull extra strings without Amethio knowing#everyday we get one step closer to Amethio redemption#(or alternatively corruption like can you imagine this all weighing on his mind and just twisting it in all the wrong directions)#(though now that I mention that it seems more like a possibility for Spinel --- I still think he's the most capable of betraying everyone)#(like he seems the most malicious at this rate and his capabilities can be quite terrifying- he may as well decide to--#--erase the other explorers' memories and make them work for him if he was pushed hard enough . Like . Can You Imagine.......... /deranged)#I'm rambling at this rate ASKSDJHSDKFNSD but this series gives me so much serotonin and I'm so grateful to have started it 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖#pokemon horizons#anipoke#pokeani#amethio#explorer amethio#amethio pokemon#zirc pokemon#onia pokemon#ceruledge
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"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.
"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.
"He makes me laugh."
Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.
Meanwhile over in the land of the living
Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.
(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)
Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.
Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.
So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.
Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?
You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.
He's not surprised.
Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.
Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."
Wait a goddamn-
Is that-
"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"
Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.
"Why're you in a dress?"
"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.
"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.
"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.
Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.
The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.
"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"
"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."
"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."
"Obviously."
A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.
Hm.
He forgot they were there.
"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"
"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#I think this was originally supposed to be a Danny as Peach and Jason as Mario cosplay idea#With still a focus on their platonic marriage#Buuuuut#Then I got hit with the royal idea and#yea#Mostly because I forgot about said previous idea#Jason: Hm I'm going to have so much explaining to do with the old man#Also Jason: But I don't feel like it so *disappears*#Batman: *Tired dad sigh*#ghost prince danny#Or like#ghost heir danny#He ain't king and the title is vague#Just because
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↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠
Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!
Jayce:
- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.
- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.
- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?
- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.
- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.
- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.
- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.
- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.
Viktor:
- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.
- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.
- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.
- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.
- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.
- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.
Ekko:
- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.
- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.
- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.
- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.
- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.
- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.
Vander:
- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.
- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.
- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.
- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.
- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.
- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.
- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.
Silco:
- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.
- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,
- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.
- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.
- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.
- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.
Jinx:
- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.
- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.
- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.
- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.
- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.
- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.
- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson.
Vi:
- Anger.
- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?
- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.
- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.
- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.
- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.
Caitlyn:
- Safety first.
- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.
- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.
- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."
- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.
- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.
- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.
Mel:
- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.
- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.
- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.
- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.
- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.
- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.
- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.
Sevika:
- She needs a moment.
- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.
- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.
- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.
- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing
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Yandere Naga King // Part 2
Part 1
Shian is the King of the Naga, the valued birthright of his family to one day earn the tribe’s respect as they murder the reigning King if they don’t offer their service to the heir. Many other tribes and kingdoms may say this is brutal but it was his way of life.
“My King! A warrior of the canine race was found on our borders–how would you like to proceed?”
“The same we always have. Devour them.”
“Yes, my King.”
It was how his family established a kingdom in a world where the human kingdom was in the mood to acknowledge different tribes as kingdoms. Word has it that a hero had come to the humans that would unite all the separate tribes with some peacekeeping power. Naturally, Shian thought such a thing was the stuff of dreams; instead was planning to make the journey to gauge the threat of this new being. But of course his strength brings so much attention the chatty little snakes couldn’t help sharing about the oddest thing.
“Did you? Did you hear?
“Yes! Yes, I did! So beautiful! A beautiful thing!”
“A naga youngling! A naga youngling and their human parent!”
“What a sight! What a sight to behold.”
Granted this news was not delivered maliciously but that didn’t matter to Shian. As King of the Naga it was his duty to protect the clear separation of all humans and Nagas. History and biology spoke volumes—Nagas are the better creatures. Shian was more eager than anything to prove this, especially on the journey to observe eliminate the hero meant to unite them all. But of course, this changes when he meets you.
“Oh (Y/n)! I saved our dearest Nox from a wild boar and I saved the body for a hearty meal!!! Can’t I come inside now!”
“No!”
“Please!? Wouldn’t you like it if I didn’t break the window, this time?”
Since he’s met you everything has changed. Now that he’s discovered that his destined mate is a fiery little human he’s had no choice but to reconsider. Now he can adore your flaws as a human and admire your unique traits even more. His skepticism about other humans hasn’t completely gone away but he’s plenty more merciful now that he has you to woo.
“HISSS State your name and business human!”
“-I-I- just wanted to deliver the fruits I always do sir!”
“Hmm my mate did mention something about their usual shipment….fine but thank your stars I’ve decided not to gorge myself on those eyes of yours.”
“Y-y-yes Sir!”
Not to mention you have an adorable little Naga son! Not that he finds Nox particularly cute on his own but it’s the words he parrots from you that make him a delight to be around. It’s a biological thing that Nagas interested in a mate aren’t fond of their children previous or otherwise. Even when they’re created together, there’s a strong chance that paternal love humans expect may never appear. But he’s found when he acts as though that’s what he’s doing you excuse more of his behavior.
“Now to strike with your tail you’ll have to shift your weight like this."
“Oh I see!”
“Yes…good job…”
“Are you looking back at the window, again?”
“Well of course I am! You said they were looking, right?!”
He does find that the more time he finds with Nox he doesn’t hate him. He’s sure if he was any other little snakeling in his kingdom he’d fully be invested but this is the snakeling in the way of attaining his mate’s complete attention. This is why it’s easier to blame him than accept you’re not very interested in giving him your attention anyway. It does annoy him that Nox isn’t unaware of this. The little narc snakeling is happy to string him along; baiting him with his praises to you to learn things from him.
“What?! I thought you weren’t watching the fight?!”
“I didn’t but the forest talks. So how do you move so fast across the forest like that?”
“Hmph that’s a secret. Family secret, actually.”
“Oh, that’s a shame…guess I ought to tell them you could never see us being a family.”
“What?! That’s not what I–”
“Guess I'll call out in one. Two. Thre–”
“Okay okay pay attention I’m only showing you once.”
“Yes!”
In the Naga King's heart of hearts he kind of really loves likes this domestic life with you two. It feels as though the whole world is right when he can spend all day following and pestering you as he learns more about you. But it won’t stay that way forever. And unfortunately, his entourage and advisors will find him. Reminding him of that pesky hero he has to eat meet. It’s simple to debate with his team about taking you with him or sending you back home to his newly constructed castle. Of course, he neglects to ask your opinion on the matter and must reap the consequences.
“My (Y/n)...why are all of my servants tied on the drying line?”
“They started moving my stuff. I thought I told you and your little buddies to stop touching my house.”
“ But how are we supposed to move you to my castle?”
“What?!”
“(Y/n)...please put down the knife!”
After talking you down committing his entire entourage to chores you wanted done he ordains that you should try accompanying him on his mission to the human kingdom. Leaving out the part about the hero he suggests that he leave some of his servants to tend to your home and babysit Nox. This is entirely so that he can convince you to come to his castle one day. Not just so he can enjoy some alone time with you. And while you’d like to refuse Nox thinks it’s awesome. When you aren’t chasing the Naga servants away they regard him with kindness and very giving. And it’s that same observation that has you kissing Nox goodbye as you depart for the human castle.
“Alright, Nox be good…try not to grow up too much while I’m gone.”
“Of course not…if you want I can send my shedded tail skin to you so you can ‘see me grow up. ”
“Nox don’t do that. That’ll be weird.”
“I thought so too but the others say it’s an endearing thing.”
It’s going to be hard, returning to civilization. Since you’ve been isekai’d you limited almost all of your interactions with other humans and now you were going to meet the protagonist. But you wouldn’t let your mind be completely occupied because you would be distracted by the obsessed Naga king.
Part 3: ....
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere ocs x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc naga king#yandere naga x reader#yandere naga king oc#yandere Naga King Shian#yandere original character#yandere male x reader#yandere male#male yandere x reader#yandere x darling#male yandere#yandere original characters#yandere monster#yandere x gn reader#yandere teratophilia#yandere monster oc#yandere monster original character
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Nanami + ovulation he would treat us so well while fucking us hard and speaking sweet words <3
i love this request i feel like it's so nanami :3
⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > kento x you. filthy filth! i need me some of that :( he rails you but he's polite with it frfr. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
your husband was handsome, to say the least. it was an undeniable fact. you were always attracted to him, no matter the time. but when you were ovulating ? don't even get me started.
you were all over him. clawing, pawing at him, you name it. of course he found it sweet. he loved that his pretty little wife could go that crazy over him just from the fact that he was simply existing.
when you were ovulating and he'd come home from work, looking all tired and exhausted, his tie a bit loose and his sleeves rolled up ? that was certainly a valid excuse to practically pounce on him.
it was nearly three in the morning when you came for the fourth time. the fourth time.
your stamina was always higher during your ovulation week but right now ? you were completely fucked out. but he found so pretty, you can't blame him :(
he gently nuzzled your neck with his nose as the tip of his cock literally bullied your sweet spot. "you're so pretty, my love, y'know that ?" the way he spoke and the way he moved created such a contrast that it was almost unbelievable.
he murmured such sweet words into your ear, like you were the most precious thing he had. which was the truth. you truly were his most guarded treasure. but he was also fucking you so nice and deep into the mattress, almost as if you were a cheap whore he found down the street. your husband was such a polyvalent man, and you couldn't deny you loved it.
"surely you can handle a bit more, right ? aw, of course you can..." your senses were all filled with him. literally.
your hearing, your sense of smell and more— literally everything. they were as filled with him as your pussy were. "ken, s'too much..." you mumbled, grabbing his forearms weakly.
one of your legs was hooked around his waist to pull him deeper, as if he wasn't already touching your soul. you could swear, right there and then, that you felt him in your liver. "it's too much, you say ? my love... i know a liar when i see one."
your pretty manicured nails, the ones he paid for, were digging into the sheets. "m'not lying, i swear..." he chuckled. "yeah ? you say you're not lying, mhm ? why's she sucking me in, then ?" you knew what he was referring to. of course you knew.
your pussy. your husband loved talking about it as if it was an individual, who was worthy of respect.
your sloppy little walls were making such lewd sounds, almost the same ones you could hear in many pornographic movies. "s'just... i can't..." you babbled. you were on the verge of cumming and your husband knew that. he intertwined his fingers with you and his other hand slid between your bodies to circle your throbbing little clit.
"you can." he insisted, punctuating his words with yet another harsh thrust. he chuckled as you choked on your own saliva and he pulled his fingers away from your clit, only to stuff your mouth with them. "why don't you suck on my fingers, honey ? just like you suck on my cock. s'been a while since you did, huh ?"
his fingers were coated in your essence as he forced them between your lips. the taste of yourself made your eyes roll back. "yeah, s'been a little while, mhm ? i just keep fucking you, now. maybe i spoil you too much." he kissed your cheek. "m'gonna cum..."
he hummed and gently kissed your forehead. "yeah ? really ? go ahead, baby..." he whispered, one of his hands playing with your nipple. he pushed your knees to your chest and you moaned loudly. "go ahead." he repeated. "i love watching you come."
his words, mixed with the way he was playing with you so freely, made you cum. "ken !" you gasped as you clenched around him tightly. "fuck, that's it..." he didn't stop, even as you were climaxing for the fifth time that night.
the way your messy cunt tightened around him made him cum right after you. he buried his face in your neck as your fingers tangled with his blonde strands. "i love you..." he murmured.
as he finally came to a stop, he collapsed on top of you, chest to chest. he gave your lips a sweet, short kiss before caressing your cheek. "you want to rest, my love ? it's already three." at your weak little nod, he smiled. "let me just clean you up a little." he pulled out slowly.
he just fucked you nice and hard, and now he was treating you like a fragile little doll.
yeah, your husband was truly a polyvalent man.
<33 do you guys like it ?
⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#smut#nanami kento#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami smut#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x fem!reader#fem!reader#kento smut#kento x reader#kento x y/n#jjk kento#yummy yum yum
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WHAT IS DESTINED CAN NOT BE AVOIDED. (4/4)
Cregan Stark x pregnant!Targaryen!Reader
WARNINGS: childbirth, swearing
WORDS: 3.5 K
NOTES: thanks to @arcielee for betaing this! <3
One hand is splayed out over the curve of your swollen stomach and the other clings to your maid’s forearm as you take your time climbing the edge of the bathtub to lower yourself in the tepid water, releasing a content sigh with it still being warm enough for some of the pregnancy pains to slowly but surely fade away.
“You may leave now,” you hum, head tipped back against the edge of the bronze tub.
What you don’t notice with your eyes closed is the baffled look the two maids assigned for you exchange, visibly hesitant to leave you alone. One of them, a younger girl whose name you’ve learned is Elia, speaks up first, her voice soft but laced with concern that makes you look at them. “My lady… are you sure you will be alright by yourself? Should we not stay here to assist you?”
You sink down a bit further into the water, chest and shoulders now fully submerged as well. “I am with child, not sick. Rest assured I can take care of myself alone.”
The maid still looks unconvinced, and it doesn’t help that it’s now the older one speaking up. “My lady, ‘tis not meant as any disrespect. We are just concerned about your well-being. You are carrying the Lord Stark’s heir, after all, and–”
The door swings open with a creek that cuts the maid off mid sentence. Your eyes dart over, and you can feel your annoyance subside just slightly at the sight of him. Something about the stay in King’s Landing has changed him a bit. You notice it as you watch how he all but saunters into the room, wearing a loose fitted shirt made of linen with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, similarly loose trousers with a pair of soft leather boots. He has forgone Ice, the large sword resting neatly on the equally large desk standing in the chambers, and opted instead for a simple dagger strapped at his hip, hidden beneath the shirt.
Yet you’d prefer seeing him in his usual leathers and furs rather in the light-eight attire he’s opted for given the warmer climate of the capital.
“And Lord Stark is here to take care of his wife,” he ends the maid’s sentence, throwing his vest over a nearby chair.
Both women turn around to bow their heads politely upon his arrival, giving him a knowing look. “Pardon us, my lord,” the older maid says. “We were merely making sure the Lady Stark was tending to her pregnancy well.”
Nodding in acknowledgment to their words, you spot his gaze drifting back to you. “Thank you for your concern,” he says politely but with a hint of dismissal in his voice. “But I can assure you my wife is in good hands now. You may both go and tend to your other duties now.”
Exchanging a glance once more, the maids curtsey quickly and take their leave under the steel of Cregan’s gaze.
“Thank the gods they’re gone,” you mutter and close your eyes again, sighing softly.
“You make it sound as if they were tormenting you, my love,” Cregan says, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt before he comes closer to the bathtub.
Opening your eyes once more, you all but glare at him. “They were hovering over me like a pair of mother hens,” you snap. “Ever since Munkun gave me that wretched tonic to bring the babe quicker, they have been treating me as if I am about to break, watching my every move as if I’ll faint any second from the smallest exertion.”
Completely unbothered by your grousing, your irritation has him chuckling. He leans forward to rest his hand on your belly, feeling the rather large swell of it. “They’re just concerned about you, my love,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They want to make sure you’re well cared for during your pregnancy. Can you blame them?”
“Do they want to make sure I am well cared for, or is it a command of my brother’s council?” You cock a brow, bringing your hand to rest atop his.
Cregan sighs at your words, knowing that you’re probably right. The council does meddle in far too many things, and neither of you would be surprised if they’d given strict orders to the maids to watch over you.
“Perhaps ‘tis a bit of both,” Cregan says. “Aegon might be concerned for the health of his dear sister, and his trusted council is definitely influencing his worry. But they are not entirely misguided to look out for you, my love. You’re carrying an heir and your health is of utmost importance.”
Not quite satisfied with his reasoning, you roll your eyes. “Yes, I understand the importance of the heir, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,“ you huff. “But I do not need a flock of overprotective hens following me around, tittering and fretting over every little thing I do. It would not have been like that had we just stayed in Winterfell.”
“Perhaps not,” he agrees, rubbing your swollen bump. “But we’re not in Winterfell, we’re in King’s Landing, and here your brother is king. His council sees it fit to be overly cautious with you. Complaining won’t change that.”
You can’t help the annoyed sigh falling past your lips as you lean your head back against the edge of the tub, sinking further into the water. “How do you think the wolves are faring without us?”
The change of topic has Cregan laughing softly with the thoughts of your hovering maids quickly shifting to your dire wolves at home in Winterfell. “They are probably fine, my love,” he says, still rubbing your bump despite the rolled up sleeve of his shirt slowly soaking up water. “They are being cared for by our men. They’re tough creatures, those dire wolves. They can take care of themselves.”
“Just like me,” you quip, raising a brow. “And I was not born a wolf – I am a dragon.”
“Oh, that you are,” Cregan agrees. “A fierce and dangerous one at that. But even a dragon might need a little bit of pampering and attention now and then, don’t you think?”
The earlier annoyance and irritation at the maids quickly melts away with your husband’s teasing but comforting manner, making you hum in agreement. Yet you have to admit it’s mostly Cregan’s attention and care showered upon yourself that you enjoy. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Your hand now journeys along the swell of your bump, while you bring the other to rest at the back of his neck, gently massaging it. His attention and care, however, aren’t enough to keep your light demeanor up as a sharp tug makes itself known in your stomach. Your body curls together at that, making you moan out in pain.
Not wasting a moment, Cregan leans forward, trying to figure out what is going on. “Are you alright?” he asks with a concerned voice, his wide, gray eyes locked on your features.
As another pang of pain grips your body, you gasp and clutch the back of his neck instinctively, your eyes widening in realization. “The babe…” you gasp, face twisting in pain as another contraction washes over you. “I think the babe… the babe is coming. Now.”
His eyes widen briefly in surprise, but his instincts kick in immediately. Quickly springing into action, he rises to his feet and reaches for a large cloth. “Let me get you in bed, and then I shall fetch the mae–”
“Just fetch the maester please, this shall be fine.”
Biting back a worried protest, knowing that arguing with a woman in labor would be a futile endeavor, much more with a woman as stubborn as you are, he rushes out the door with a nod of his head and a forced smile on his lips.
As he leaves the room, you’re left alone, body wracked with increasing contractions that force one groan and gasp from your lip after the other. Your fingers dig into the rim of the tub, the realization dawns on you that you might have to give birth right here in the bathtub.
The door pushes open again, and behind your wolf of a man barging into the room is Grand Maester Munkun, his expression not as concerned as your husband’s.
“Maester,” you croak with a strained voice, looking at him as he moves to your side to assess your condition. “Is this normal? The pain, the–the rushed… labor?”
He grimly shakes his head. “‘Tis not uncommon for a tonic to bring on labor earlier than expected when the mother has surpassed her time. And the early onset of labor also does not necessarily mean anything is wrong,” he explains. “The pain you’re experiencing, however, should not be this severe. Let me examine you, my lady.”
You hardly notice your worried maids scurrying into the chambers with towels in their arms when the maester pressed his fingers against your swollen belly, eventually even going lower to feel inside of you. Cregan towers over him from behind, making sure that he does not make one wrong move and ensures your and the babe’s safety.
And only at the maester’s next words seem you and your husband to be able to breathe again. “The babe seems to be positioned properly,” he announces. “And the pains are strong and regular. This is a good sign. For how long have the pains been coming, my lady?”
You grit your teeth through another wave of pain, meeting your husband’s worried gaze. “I’ve felt little… twinges all day,” you manage to say between labored breaths. “But they were so minor, I did not think them worth mentioning.”
“Sometimes the early stages of labor can be mild and easy to overlook, my lady. But now that it is progressing, the pains will become more intense as the babe prepares to make its entrance into the world.”
You suddenly feel a twinge of pain tear through your body like a hot knife, like you are being torn apart, making it impossible for you to hold back a scream. The maids all but hurry to your side at the sight, the older one bringing a soothing hand to your shoulder. “Take deep breaths, my lady,” she encourages, “and then push.”
Two other maids grab your legs and hoist them over the rim of the tub, making it easier for them to gauge the process through the slightly opaque water.
Grand Maester Munkun has been forced away by your husband sinking onto his knees, peeling your hand off the edge of the tub to capture it with his own. Your nails dig harshly into his palm as you eventually bear down and push with all your might, your screams echoing off the walls.
“Cregan…” you pant, completely abandoning any courtesies with other people present. “I… I have changed my mind now… I do not wish–” you’re interrupted by a contraction, forcing you to push once again. “I have no desire to give you an heir,” you pant during a short lived, pain-less moment.
You’re a fierce and proud woman that has endured so many hardships before, yet this seems to be the ultimate test of your strength and endurance – and right now you’re not quite sure you can finish it.
Cregan can’t answer before he’s interrupted by another of your screams, each contraction and push bringing more and more agony, pain shooting through you as your babe readies itself to slowly make its way into the world.
“Keep going, my lady,” the maid says, dabbing a cloth on your forehead.
“I fucking am!” you all but snap, the sharp tone of your voice solely directed at her even causing the anxiety to leave your husband’s face for a moment.
None of their gentle touches and encouraging words ease the pain that ripples through your body – not when the pressure inside of you builds up so quickly.
Beads of sweat drip down your forehead, caught by the maid’s cloth and leaving your skin glistening with the effort of birthing Cregan’s heir.
The pain gets less for a moment, allowing you to breathe as exhaustion creeps up on you despite you not yet being done. Your head tips to the side, and your gaze meets the concerned one of your husband, an anxiety etched on his features that makes it clear his heart aches with your screams.
He leans in and tips his forehead against yours, allowing you to close your eyes for a moment and take in a deep breath. “You’re doing so well, my love,” he whispers, a tremor in his voice that comes close to the one that shakes his large hands. “Hold on, just a little longer.”
The urge to push becomes adamant once again, forcing you to hunch forward from the force that bears down on you. You all but squeeze the life out of Cregan’s hand, the pain so overwhelming you hardly hear the words of the maid kneeling at the end of the tub. “Almost there, my lady. The babe is almost out.”
Every bit of your strength is focused on delivering the child, your energy almost completely spent at this point. The pain seems to consume your entire being, filling your mind with nothing but the agony of birthing your child.
But with another push, all of your suffering suddenly is over.
The pain starts to subside, replaced by an overwhelming sense of both relief and exhaustion. You collapse back against the tub, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
That is the moment for the maids to go into action, their training and experience taking over. One of them reaches down to gently scoop the babe from the water, while another already is at her side to wrap a clean cloth around its tiny body. Where your screams have filled the chambers before, it’s now its cries that echo off the walls, easing all of your anxiety.
“It is a boy, my lady,” the maid still kneeling at your side says, a soft smile on her lips. “A healthy, beautiful boy.” You smile softly as well, releasing a deep sigh of relief.
Grand Maester Munkun leans over the other two maids to assess the newborn, checking for any immediate signs of distress. As much as you want, you can’t keep your eyes open to watch how he peels the cloth aside, and you just smile weakly at his voice. “The boy indeed seems to be in good health,” he declares, clearly talking to Cregan who hasn’t left your side. “A good set of lungs, too, my lord.”
Cregan also sighs in relief, the tension in his body leaving at once at that. Bringing a hand to your cheek, he gently rubs his thumb over your sweaty skin. “Well done, my love,” he praises. “You have done so well. Our son is here and he is healthy.”
“Show him to me,” you demand softly, blinking wearily at him.
With a nod, he rises to his feet to make room for the maids. One kneels down and presents you the small bundle, but as you reach out, a renewed wave of cramps not as harsh as the ones before takes over your body. You grit your teeth and brace yourself for a sharper pain that doesn’t come.
“Almost there, my lady. ‘Tis the afterbirth,” the older maid assures you, rubbing your shoulder. “You’re almost done.”
It’s been quite some time since your septa has told you about the process of birthing a child, yet you still know that delivering the afterbirth is another messy and unpleasant part of it – one that still has to be done anyways.
After it has come out without any issues, one maid quickly takes care of disposing of it while another maid tries to detach it from your son.
With the birth and delivery finished, the attention now shifts to getting you out of the bathtub and into bed to ensure your comfort and rest. The maids have handed your husband your son to gather around you, gently helping you up and out of the water. “Lean on us, my lady,” one of them said softly with her arm around your waist.
Your exhausted body is dried and put into smallclothes and a nightdress until it’s eventually allowed to sink into the soft sheets. The maids fuss around you, making sure you’re comfortable, before your still crying son is finally brought to you.
They tug at the neckline of your nightdress to free your full breasts without a warning, yet you’re quick to swat their hands away despite having your son in your arms. “What are you doing?”
“My lady,” one of them begins, “‘tis important that you begin to feed the babe as soon as possible. The first milk is the best source of nourishment for your son. We just wish to help you with the positioning and latching.”
Their words make you doubt yourself and your mothering abilities, although a part of you knows that it’s not their intention to make you feel that way.
“I know how to feed him,” you snap suddenly, maybe even irritated at your son’s hungry crying, and the maids recoil at your harsh tone. They know that the first hours with a newborn are never easy, and they know that you are exhausted, sore, and overwhelmed by the recent events – hence their quick recovery.
“Of course, my lady,” one says, her voice gentle. “We did not mean to overstep. We only want to ensure that both you and the babe are safe and well cared for.”
Letting out a deep breath, you meet your husband’s gaze and try to keep your irritation at bay. “I understand,” you reply, slightly opening your arms to allow them to continue.
The earlier, chastened demeanor of the maids is replaced by a reassuring one as one maid grabs your hand to bring it to your breast, demonstrating how to help your babe latch on your little bud. “There you go, my lady,” she whispers as you eventually begin to nurse your son, offering quiet, encouraging words.
Cregan, who has been silently observing the scene, finally interjects. “Thank you for your services,” he says, voice kind but firm. “You all have done an excellent job and you may leave now.”
The maids and grand maester glance at you and your son once more before filling out of the room, leaving your small family alone. Your husband contemplates sitting down in a chair close to the bed, but instead opts to occupy his side of the bed, scooting closer to you and bringing a hand up to brush your son’s cheek lightly with a finger. You shift a little to accommodate him right next to you.
Your eyes are fixed on the infant in your arms as you continue to nurse him, watching as he greedily sucks at your breast with soft smacking sounds filling the otherwise quiet room. Despite the exhaustion, a sense of contempt washes over you.
“Can you believe he is really ours?” you ask softly, not tearing your eyes off of your son.
Cregan chuckles softly and shakes his head. “I can scarcely believe it,” he replies. He leans in and presses his lips to your temple, speaking against your skin. “You are incredible, do you know that?” Pulling back, his gaze is filled with love and admiration. “Everything you went through… I have never seen anything more courageous and admirable.”
“What do you think about Eyron?” you whisper, eventually meeting his gaze.
He repeats the name, testing the sound of it and seriously considering it. “I like it. It has a strong, northern feel to it. Suits him well, I think.”
Your smile mirrors his as your eyes drift back down to your son, who is still suckling at your breast, his tiny hand clutching at the neckline of your nightdress as he does so. You gently brush a finger over his head, feeling the softness of the light hair.
Relaxing into your husband’s embrace, your body fitting against his like a missing piece, you close your eyes in contentment. “You do know you will not ride at the front with your men on the way back north, do you not?”
He kisses your temple yet again, chuckling softly. “That is something to discuss once you have recovered and ‘tis time for us to return, my love.”
#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan fanfiction#hotd cregan#cregan x y/n#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark fluff#cregan stark fic#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x female reader#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#hotd fluff#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#hotd imagine#hotd#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fluff#house of the dragon x you
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People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.
Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)
"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.
You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?
Toph's!
People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.
Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.
And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?
She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.
Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.
It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.
Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.
However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.
Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.
She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.
So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.
Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.
Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.
Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.
On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.
Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.
Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.
If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.
Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.
#that being said I lowkey love Toph's storyline#i don't think her life would be better if she were in a “traditional” family btw#hey lao beifong what if i killed you#toph beifong#toph#katara#suyin beifong#lin beifong#zuko#aang#lao beifong#beifong brainrot#opal beifong#legend of korra#avatar#tlok#the legend of korra#avatar the legend of korra#atlok#lok#atla#avatar: the last airbender#the last airbender#avatar the last airbender#kataang#pro toph beifong
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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson
summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.
warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.
Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.
To you, he was the seventh heaven.
Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.
You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.
But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.
You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.
You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.
And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.
You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.
You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.
“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.
You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.
What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!
“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”
“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”
She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”
You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.
“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.
“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”
“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”
Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”
“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”
“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”
“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”
“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”
“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”
“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”
You raised a brow. “Like what?”
“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”
You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.
You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.
“Feel better?” Your mother asked.
You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”
Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.
Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”
“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.
“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.
“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”
“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”
“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”
You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”
Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.
“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”
“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.
You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.
You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.
And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.
You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.
“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”
“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”
“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”
“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”
“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”
“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”
“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.
“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.
“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”
You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.
“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.
Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.
Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.
His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.
Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.
The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.
Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.
He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.
“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”
“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”
You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.
Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”
You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.
Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.
Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.
You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”
“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”
“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”
You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.
You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.
“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.
Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.
Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.
Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”
Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.
“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”
“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”
Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.
Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.
“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”
Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.
“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.
“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”
You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.
A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.
“Cum?” You repeated.
“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”
You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.
“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.
Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”
You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”
“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”
“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”
Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”
“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”
“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”
You nodded, smiling in confidence.
Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.
He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.
His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.
“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”
“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.
You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.
Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”
“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”
Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.
“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,
“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.
You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.
Oh, you thought to yourself. That.
“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.
You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.
You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.
Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.
“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.
Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.
You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.
Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.
This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.
Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.
You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.
If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?
Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.
A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”
“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”
Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.
You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.
You liked it.
“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”
Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.
You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.
“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.
You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.
“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”
You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”
He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”
Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.
You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.
Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.
Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.
Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”
His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.
“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”
You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.
Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.
“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.
“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”
You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”
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