#anyway what I'm driving at is I think? it makes the most sense for her to buy and move into Mirt's mansion of her own accord early in 1488
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#also. also. shes like “i hope i was a better friend once you reframed it as 'im upset because youve been a really shitty person towards mw#for months - before that i thought it was because you were sad i probably didnt have feelings for you#(in which case of course my actions would have been totally justified). anyway after that i became a totally good and reliable friend“#when what she did since i framed it that way was (1) ghost me for 3 months (2) met up and immediately said she needed space (after one#conversation since the summer) (3) broke up with me under the most inconvenient conditions when im totally isolated from all of my friends#and during a long drive where im forced to be around her for hours to a camp where she is my only means of leaving#good friend behavior????#she always seems so thoughtful and phrases everything in a way that makes sense in the moment. but sometimes i wonder if she ever thinks#about other people at all#it feels like she wants all of these experiences and connections but only while theyre convenient and exciting and new. and what i thought#was a meaningful connection was maybe like a collectable trinket? or i dont know maybe. a fun experiment so she could learn more about#herself. framing every time she hurt me as a lesson she was learning about Relationships#ughhhhh I'm not a fucking educational tool#“i want to do all the same things exactly but not call it a relationship. and i have a crush on you but i dont like you enough. and i dont#want to ever date anyone and i dont want to be in relationships but of course im not going to break up with my boyfriend“#im so fucking done
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Laeral faked her death and spent a century in Candlekeep. She didn't reemerge until 1487. I have to assume she moved back to Waterdeep considering she became Open Lord in 1489, but that raises other questions. Like. Where was she living
#OOC / HOLLY.#can't live in Blackstaff Tower anymore#and imo doesn't want to because she misses Khelben too much#Death Masks leads us to believe she was given Mirt's mansion when she became Open Lord#even tho the Open Lord usually lives in the palace and she does mostly move in during that book#[she offered the mansion back to Mirt during that book but he declined in favor of another one]#[so technically it's still hers]#anyway what I'm driving at is I think? it makes the most sense for her to buy and move into Mirt's mansion of her own accord early in 1488#[she would finish out 1487 living with Storm in Shadowdale I imagine]#then she has time to be known to the city again before they make her Open Lord
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How Tamsyn Muir Uses Information
I've been trying to pinpoint exactly why I've been so obsessed with The Locked Tomb for the better part of a year by now, and I think I've finally been able to draw some useful conclusions. Here's my analysis of Tamsyn Muir's writing, and, specifically, how Muir uses information to drive a plot.
For me, and for most fiction writers, one of the most critical elements which drives the plot of a story is the information you choose to give to the reader, and the information you choose to withhold. It is my opinion that no one uses (and arguably misuses) information as beautifully as Muir does. Muir is surgical both in the way she delivers information to the reader, and the way she fails to deliver information to the reader. Most writers aim to feed the readers information about the story, bit by bit, letting the reader finish the picture. Muir uses this idea, but her writing is so lush and so sharp is that the information she gives us is distorted almost beyond recognition, but just coherent enough that the reader can guess at the bigger picture. This method of delivery persists from the inciting incident, basically up until the climax.
By the climax, we, the readers, have recieved just enough information to guess at the direction of the story, but we recieve so little information that we are still scrambling for more. It is at this point where Muir finally reveals one or two critical pieces of information, and when she does, the true stakes of the conflict hit the reader with, as Muir would put it, the inexorable weight of a gravity collapse. The truth is that Muir has been building suspense for an entire novel, but it's hard for the reader to conceptualise truly how dire the situation for the characters is because we have been left in the dark. We were crawling at a snail's pace, and so we didn't sense the danger until we stood before the precipice.
I was going to include specific examples of what I've just described, but I changed my mind, and I'll explain:
If you've read The Locked Tomb, you know what I'm talking about (my heart shall never be whole again).
If you haven't read The Locked Tomb, read it! It is lush, dark, vivacious, and many other adjectives which make it unclear whether I'm describing a book or a person.
Ahem. Anyway. TazMuir, I love your writing, and Alecto the Ninth will be my end, as swift and sure as the hammer to the oxygen-sealant machine of my childhood.
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ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.
Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.
Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, sexual tension, cursing, arguments.
[Series Masterlist]
𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑨𝒊𝒏���𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑬𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒔
“It’s just two weeks, Buck. You’ll be fine.” Steve attempts to reassure his best friend, though it doesn’t seem to be working. “She’s really not as bad as you make her out to be.”
Bucky says nothing, rolling his eyes instead. "This whole idea is a waste of time. I'm not going." He grumbled. Stark had the grand idea to send the most incompatible people in the entire Avenger's Compound on a fucking road trip.
"You have to go. Tony said it's non-negotiable. I'm sure she doesn't like the idea either, but there's nothing we can do about it. Just...try and make the best of it." Steve offered, tipping his head and shrugging hesitantly.
"That's easy for you to say. You don't have to actually go." Bucky grumbled, stuffing more things into a suitcase. Steve was supposed to be helping, but he was really just there to try and convince Bucky that this was for the greater good, or whatever. Something like that.
This was going to be an insufferably long two weeks.
"Two weeks and three days. Three days of actual vacation! This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. Nat, you gotta get me out of this." You pleaded with the Avenger.
"Already tried. Tony won't budge." She gave an apologetic shrug. "Maybe you'll find out you share a lot of common interests."
"Right, because me and the ninety-nine year-old man are basically twinsies. Thanks, Nat."
"Maybe you'll just decide to fuck halfway-through." Yelena interrupts. "Like, full-on go at each other. The tension is very strong. Very strong." Her accent is thick as she digs through your closet.
"She's right, I've read too many romance novels to know how this turns out." Kate agrees, judging your shoe collection.
"What? Ew--God, no. That's...so fucking disgusting to think about." You shudder. "He's a total asshole."
"He's not so bad." Yelena shrugged. "Helped take down the Red Room. Good enough for me."
"He can't be that bad, right? I haven't really talked with the guy, but he seems chill." Kate ponders.
"What they mean to say is that it will be fine." Nat attempts to assure you, spinning you by the shoulders to face her.
"I hate him and I hate everything about it." You rage quietly as Yelena stuffs shampoo and conditioner into your suitcase. You were packing one suitcase and one backpack. Yelena, Kate, and Natasha were supposed to be helping, but they were really just goofing off and occasionally helping you grab something.
"The trip isn't even worth it, anyway. One week of driving to get there, three days of the actual resort, and then a week back. It doesn't make any sense." You tried to reason.
"The whole point of the trip is to get you two to bond. Or at least to not bicker and argue over the comms during missions." Nat rationalized. "It'll not only be good for you two, but for the team as a whole."
You thought for a moment, considering it. You could agree that the idea made sense, but still. He was a dick to you most of the time, so what was the point?
"Fine." You said. "But if he starts shit, I'm not going to let him walk all over me."
Sighing, Natasha nodded.
"If he pisses you off, just kill him--very easy. You know how to do it." Yelena stated ever so casually.
"Yelena!" Kate and Natasha exclaimed at the same time.
You scowled as you loaded your suitcase and backpack into the backseat of the truck. You even made sure all of your stuff was directly behind the driver's seat. Your seat. You were going to drive.
Bucky Barnes, seemingly getting the message, put his singular suitcase behind the passenger side.
Tony and Steve stood outside the huge garage, watching as the two of you loaded up the truck. Tony had bought the truck a while ago, but he never really ended up driving it often. He thought it would be perfect for this trip.
"Don't die, if you sleep in the car make sure to lock the doors, get a motel when you can, stay safe and have fun, blah blah blah, don't crash my truck." Tony told the two of you. Steve gave him the Eyebrows of Disappointment before turning back to you.
"Please don't kill each other. Stay in a motel or something when you can." Steve quickly hugged Bucky goodbye, stepping inside, and you turned to walk to the driver's side.
"What're you doing?" Bucky asked from behind you.
"Getting in the car?" You snarked back. The way he had asked his question annoyed you.
"I'm driving." He declared.
"No you're not. I am. You watched me put my stuff behind the seat--my seat!"
"I am driving the damn car. Move."
"No you are fucking not. Get your ancient ass to the passenger seat." You growl.
"Your driving is shit. Move out of the way before I make you." He says, sharp blue eyes glaring straight into yours.
"What're you gonna do? Throw me?"
Without saying a word, he put both of his hands on your biceps, squeezing lightly, before slightly picking you up and moving you to the side. He did it so easily, too. Most likely due to the serum, along with the vibranium arm. You felt the rage seeping into your body, and just before you could throw a punch, Tony called out from the door inside the garage. "Take turns, losers! Jesus Christ."
You both look at him as he says this, before looking back at each other. Shoving him out of the way, you open the truck door. He sticks up both of his middle fingers as he walks around the back of the truck. As you buckle your seatbelt, you consider just backing up the truck as he walked behind it. He wouldn't die. He probably wouldn't even fall over. It could be a total accident. A little oopsie, if you will.
Just before you could ponder the potential attempted murder, Bucky opened the passenger door, hopping into the truck. You plug your phone into the truck, putting on your favorite playlist. The one Bucky hated. It was a very personal 'fuck you' to the Super Soldier sitting next to you. He looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but he didn't.
Pulling out of the huge driveway, you knew one thing for sure.
This was going to be a long two weeks.
Day One
A/n: This has been in the works for a while. And while the anniversary has technically passed, I do feel like rebooting this because it’s very dear in my heart. I kept most of the text the same for this chapter with a few minor edits.
Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky@mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv
note that this is the only series I’ll be doing a taglist for, but let me know in the comments if you’d like to join!
Reblog if you enjoyed!
dividers by @saradika-graphics
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#river ratatouille recs#river ratatouille rambles#marvel#mcu
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bsf!rafe goes to reader's house
warnings: fluff, smut, mdni hi everyone!!! i took a few weeks off but i'm back and better (and hotter) than ever! anyway. kissesss! tbh MY therapist hates me. ur therapist hates me. im ur favorite therapist's favorite therapist.
rafe could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he pulled up in the driveway of your home, his jaw clenched as he half-heartedly parked it in front of your house; he hadn’t even thought of what he’d say to you, only thing he knew was that every part of him was screaming at him to go see you.
you could hear a car screech to a halt outside your home from the second floor, and even though you knew who it was, you made your way to the balcony of your room, seeing the blonde man making his way to your doorway in a determined stride.
the pounding of his fist against the wooden door could be heard all around the large home as you rushed down the stairs, your bare feet against the soft carpet, looking down to make sure you wouldn't trip, your mind too fuzzy to make sense of anything.
rafe stood outside your door, his clothes soaked by the rain, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he looked at anywhere but the peephole, turning and walking away when it had been almost three minutes without anyone answering the door.
a part of you was confused why he didn't just open your door; both of you had the keys to the other's house, having secretly exchanged them when you were twelve and swore your friendship would last forever.
when he was almost at his car, you flung the door open, rushing to rafe, your bare feet prickled by the wet pavement, the boy turning to look down at you with wide eyes.
"why did you come here?" you ask, raindrops falling onto your face, making your vision blurred. rafe swallowed, looking at anywhere but you when he tried to find an answer to your question.
"you, uh, you hung up before i could say anything."
"yeah, but you could've pretended it never happened. why did you come here?"
he sighed, rubbing his jaw, his tongue poking out from in between his lips, "what do you want me to say? that i miss you?"
"well, do you?"
"jesus." he let out a noise that was between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. "of course."
"why? why do you miss me? after everything you put me through, what gives you the right to miss me?"
"i don't know!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "i don't know why i miss you, when i know that you deserve something better. but for some reason, i can't stop thinking about you. i'm miserable without you. it's like you've ruined me. you make me not want any other person, because no one can be you."
"oh yeah?" you said, cocking your head, "what about sofia?"
"i broke up with her! you wanna know why i was with her? because i was afraid. i was afraid that if i told you what i felt for you, i'd lose you. but now, it doesn't even matter because i already lost you. it's so fucking infuriating, because you know me, i'm not the type of guy to say sappy shit and make some kind of romantic love confession, but for fuck's sake, i don't even like most of the people around me, let alone love, but you? for some fucking reason you're an exception."
he placed his hands on your rain-soaked cheeks, your hair sticking to your skin as you looked up at him, small drops forming at the corners of his eyes.
"for some reason my brain, my body, my stupid ass heart are all so fucking drawn to you, and it drives me so insane that i pretend to want to be with someone else just so you'd end up pushing me away and hating my guts even though you're the only person i can put up with. every part of me has belonged to you for so fucking long, but for some reason i could never accept it. but, fuck, i have nothing to lose anymore."
and without a warning, his lips were on yours, and even though you knew you deserved better, no part of you wanted to pull away from him, allowing him to lead you inside, into your very own bedroom, the two of you peeling off your rain-soaked clothing.
his lips might've just made a trail down your stomach, but the heat it caused was everywhere; your head, your collarbones, your tits, your stomach, your pussy, your thighs, your calves, your entire body on fire in a way that you hadn't experienced before, not even with him.
rafe's focus was on your tits, his mouth on your right nipple, first pressing small kisses, then small licks, until your nipple was in his mouth, all the while his left hand was on your left nipple, rolling it around between his fingers, occasionally squeezing it in a way that made you curl your toes.
and when you felt his cock at your entrance, you were prepared for him to fuck you like he often did; roughly, fast, without much care in the world; but he didn't, and even when he had been thrusting into you for so long you couldn't even remember how long it had lasted, he kept at his pace, he kept rolling his hips at the same pace, his right thumb rubbing your clit while he pressed kisses on your neck, softly murmuring the words you'd been craving to hear for so long.
"i love you."
and no matter how many times you came, he kept at it, at that same slow, yet incredibly intense, pace, until you could no longer process what was going on.
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe x you#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#obx fic#obx x reader#outer banks smut#obx#obx fandom#obx 4
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The potential of Dabi and Tomura's dynamic hasn't been completely explored before.
Dabi KNOWS what nomus are made of. He was this close 👌🏼 to becoming one. Yet, he doesn't act like Tomura himself is a monster for using them. There's a possibility Dabi knows more about them than Tomura himself. If not, Dabi knows Tomura knows and he doesn't hate him for it. What even went through his mind when Tomura gave him a nomu that answered to Dabi alone??
Every time I think about Dabi, I ponder just how much he has pieced together about Tomura.
I love that at some point Dabi dared to tell Hawks that Tomura wasn't the real problem— he (Dabi) was. Did he think he was worse than Tomura? Did he think Tomura was being used, but deep inside he was better/more heroic than Dabi himself?
What compelled Dabi to follow Tomura???
Dabi is a genius in his own right. He figured out that Spinner felt like an empty cosplayer before anyone else, he figured out Hawks when no one else could, knew where Toga would go before the final battle and waited there for her... Dabi sees so much, knows so much, he pays so much attention to every detail around him.
I'm obsessed with those panels of Dabi almost laughing at AFO's face, because he knew what the potato man was trying to do. AFO knew that Dabi wouldn't let him manipulate him.
And you're telling me that that Dabi couldn't see what was wrong with Tomura or at least expected in a general sense that something else would have to be revealed later?
Meanwhile, Tomura would allow Dabi to do as he pleased. He actually gave Dabi the control over the Vanguard Action Squad. Gave him a nomu. Dabi would go out "recruiting" and not bring a single soul, but Tomura never pressured him for it. Whenever Tomura wanted him there, Dabi would be there.
Dabi proved to understand Tomura's goal and feelings more than most when he explained them to Shouto. He proved to trust Tomura beyond a simple alliance, because even after Dabi's goal was almost guaranteed, he kept talking about the League of Villains and Tomura.
The level of knowledge Dabi has about Tomura's world drives me insane— and he chose to follow Tomura anyway? The puppet waiting to be used? Even after his goal was right in front of him, did he decide to justify the League? Try to make little Shouto understand?
Foaming at the mouth over it.
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#league of villains#lov#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#shigaraki tomura#dabi#touya todoroki#toya todoroki#tenko shimura#bnha manga spoilers
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Lesson One: How to turn a Trick.
cw: stalking
the principal dragged you into his office and you saw a familiar mess of dirty, black hair that made you immediately aware of what was about to be discussed~
"Miss Y/L/N, have a seat please."
you glanced at Patrick who was smirking at you as you sat down and returned your eyes to the principal,
"Hockstetter is failing."
"i don't even get a Mister?" Patrick scoffed and the principal just ignored him,
"Failing what exactly?" you asked sheepishly,
"Everything."
your mouth fell open and you stared blankly for a few seconds before shaking your head like an etch-a-sketch in an attempt to return to reality,
"So, you want me to tutor him in all of his classes?"
"That's correct." The principal nodded curtly and you could feel Hockstetter's eyes burning through you,
"B-but Sir... I already have a full tutoring roster... I'm spending every night in the tutoring centre, i can't- "
"Slow down Miss Y/L/N," The principal said through a throaty chuckle, "Your other students have been reassigned. I need my best on this." he was buttering you up and you knew it but you couldn't exactly say no anyway so you just agreed.
Patrick followed you home from school that day. He didn't have to, you weren't meant to start tutoring him until next week but he always followed you home, you just didn't know it. Something else you didn't know was that he had specifically requested you during his meeting with The Principal.
He climbed his tree whilst you climbed your stairs and he perched up on a branch to watch you, like always.
Your routine was his.
The first thing you always did was tie your hair up & he'd stare at your neck... fantasising about touching it in any way he could, he wanted to trace it with his fingers, brush his lips against it, wrap his hand around it and sink his teeth into it.
Then you'd change, usually into something kinda skimpy because you didn't think anyone could see you & it was starting to get hotter outside. Typically afterwards you would sit yourself at your desk and do your homework like the studious angel you were... that's what he started calling you in his head anyway. Angel.
By the time the sun started setting, you'd be finished with your homework and you'd listen to a record, your music taste was good... that had surprised him at first but the more he watched you, the more it made sense. He'd been able to observe how good you were at pretending that your life was picture perfect, peachy keen. It was anything but.
You'd gotten good at hiding, even in your own home. Turns out, you'd had to. Your mom was a flake who treated your house like a drive thru convenience store & didn't care who she brought around her daughter. Most of them wanted a turn with you and if it were up to her, your mom would let them. So you started fleeing to the attic where you could lock yourself in whenever you heard anyone come home.
Patrick would kill anyone who hurt you. Anyone at all.
Monday rolled around and you were going to meet Patrick in the tutoring centre after 5th period but he intercepted you as you came out of English class ~
"Oh.. hi." you blinked up at him and he smiled,
"Hey Angel."
"M-my name is Y/N." you said innocently,
"i know that, it's called a nickname." he challenged, leaning into your personal space a bit more,
"oh." you nodded, looking at your feet, "well, we should go to the tutor-"
"let's go to your place instead." he suggested and you paled, shaking your head rapidly in panic- "it's okay, whatever big bad wolf hangs out there won't scare me off." he insisted, knowingly which kind of creeped you out.
"fine." you sighed, "it's kinda far, are those heavy?" you asked, pointing at his boots and he laughed,
"don't worry about me, sweets. let's just go."
He carefully kept a half pace behind you so he didn't make it obvious he already knew where you were going. You were chittering away about the lesson plan you had devised over the weekend and he smirked pridefully behind you, knowing you were thinking about him all weekend.
Finally, you made it to your house & you already knew your mom wasn't home which had you releasing a tense breath. Patrick saw your shoulders shuddering and couldn't help himself, he held them and applied a little pressure, helping your ground yourself.
"My, uh, my room is upstairs to the left. You want a soda?"
"Sure." he nodded, striding up the stairs to see your room up close.
It smelled like you. The whole space was just you. It consumed him & he loved it. So much that his skin was practically vibrating when you came upstairs. You had all your books and sodas in your arms so you kicked the door shut behind you and he rushed over to help you.
"Thanks." you blushed,
"course." he shrugged, "so this is your room, huh?"
"um, yes." you breezed, "so i was thinking that we start with, um..." you swallowed the lump in your throat and then straightened your posture, "you cutting the bullshit, Trick."
He quirked his head to the side and scowled, "huh?"
"you don't want to be tutored. you don't give a shit about school." you pressed, stepping closer to him,
"you just wanted to hang out with me, right?"
his eyes blew wide. just for a second though because if you got creeped out by him, he'd be so angry with himself.
"actually, i can't get held back another year."
"so drop out." you quipped, raising your eyebrow in a challenge, "c'mon... don't play it cool now. I see you out there," you tipped your head out towards the tree in your neighbours yard, "watching me... every night."
"y-you do?" he stammered,
"mhm" you nodded, slowly
his eyes raced over your face, looking for any semblance of fear or revolt but there was none there,
"why didn't you ever say anything?" he pressed, leaning slightly forward, expecting you to move back but you didn't. In fact, you stood on your tip toes and kissed him lightly before whispering,
"because i like it."
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It's This Moment (or Nothing)
One of the biggest things that I have run into over the past day with Blink, Gone is the way that it feels incomplete and that is something I still stand by. This could be something completely purposeful, meant to illustrate that the round wasn't ever going to be a legitimate competition anyways, intended from the beginning as a lure for Hyuna and Mizi, to add extra emotional effect to the cliffhanger, or perhaps it really is one half of a wider whole (in a more localized sense than it being one part of the whole series, anyways). I don't really know which I think is more likely, at this point, because I'm not sure enough about any of my theories on that front to make real predictions. I still believe that Mizi will end up on her own when this all finished, all of the people she ever loved dead and gone, the bodies littered at her feet.
With the "special guests" I presume that Hyuna and Mizi will be forced to go up against each other. My friend Zen, (@verdantlights) said that hy thinks that it'll end up being a Hyunaluka round where Hyuna is set to win and then a Hyunamizi round where Hyuna is set to lose (edited because i got the order wrong and zen corrected me lmao). I agree with the idea that, at this point, it's damage control. They successfully lured Mizi (and by extension, Hyuna) in with Till, killed Till and now they're going to make their hostages perform for their lives, as is their brand.
One of the most interesting parts of Blink Gone, for me, is how this was presumably all planned from the start. Zen mentioned something that made me realize this yesterday, that this is the 50th season of Alien Stage. There's no way they would let it get this rowdy with rebels and disrupted rounds unless they were letting it happen, because it was planned from the start, because they were trying to tie up loose ends (Hyuna). Not only that but this round in particular was undoubtedly planned from the beginning, with the amount of preparation that went into it (the giant billboards of Ivan, the chanting of the crowd, the song itself). Till was ranked 2, it was always going to end up this way, Luka's superiority reinforced and his opponent dead on the floor. (btw I'm coming back to Luka. There's gonna be another fucking post just you wait). The way that they used Till's triggers against him, they drugged both of the performers but only gave Till enough to last him halfway through, forced Till to perform against Luka right after Round 6, where he lost one of the people in his life that was most important to him, and then rubbing salt into his horrible fresh wounds.
This is also one of the only rounds where Mizi is one of the POV characters that we have no mentions of Sua, at all. Perhaps that's merely because Mizi wasn't the focus and by extension, neither was Sua, but in another way, you could argue that it's because someone else was busy haunting the narrative: Ivan.
It kinda fucking hurts that the only way we really got to see Ivan was two ways- a direct flashback to the kiss from CURE, a explicit representation of the trauma that Ivan left Till with, and the billboards/Luka manipulations where he mimics Ivan in order to get Till on the back foot. And the thing is, it works. Ivan, despite his every intention otherwise, has become a trauma for Till, the way he thought he never could. To a degree, I was happy about this, because it proved Ivan wrong, that he would just be forgotten in a blink, but it hurts as well, because him only being used as a weapon against Till only reinforces his beliefs about himself that he is a monster and a negative impact on others. He would view himself being used against Till as a bad thing, that he hurt Till when he never intended to, rather than seeing it for what it is- an explicit sign that he was far more important to Till than he previously thought.
(Also something driving me up a wall right now is the way that one of my friend's described the lyrics of Blink, Gone as being in reference to the way that one moment Ivan was there, and the next he was gone, because Till took advantage of Ivan's presence and didn't know how much he needed it until it was gone and I'm sorry I'm going to go scream some more now.)
One thing I've talked about with friends a lot the past day is the way that, if Till is truly dead, then what was Ivan's character even for? And while narratively, it wouldn't make sense to kill TIll here with all of the potential he has and where his arc is going, one thing that @pwippy pointed out to me is how it makes a lot of sense thematically. Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?
For Till to die now, reaching out for this glimmer of light when he is an animal caged, surrounded by enemies and bombarded with triggers of his suffering and pain, it would only be fitting. Another confirmation that life isn't fair, especially not in a system that is actively working against you and your attempts at happiness. Yet another sign that none of them were supposed to live very long, that even if they won, they wouldn't be around for much longer anyways. Now, it wouldn't necessarily be in character for Till, as he wants to live and he wants to fight, but he got to see one of the people he loved most in his dying moments, just like Sua and Ivan did. (Thank you this post for grabbing me by the throat and squeezing). In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved.
So, while it might not be in character for Till to die, it makes sense within the themes and the established mechanisms of the universe, and it hammers home just how much more Mizi has to lose, even at this point where she thinks she's lost it all.
Mizi, who at the beginning, was the only one of these characters filled with innocence and hope, Mizi, the apparent protagonist of this story- at the end, she will be alone and she will know the true lengths of cruelty, with all that which she has ever loved destroyed.
#basically i think it's just as likely for till to be alive as he is to be dead! would i like it if he were alive? yes#would i be fine with him being dead as long as we got some more content around that? also yes#feel free to yell at me in the tags because this might be stinky as hell! i've only had coffee and eaten a protein bar today lmao#i am high off of desperation franticness and a general sense of unease 👍 it's great dw about it#also thank you for being my friend Zen i am sorry to mention you so much we've just been chatting a lot#alien stage#alnst#alnst till#alnst luka#alnst mizi#alnst analysis#alnst round 7#alnst spoilers#alnst ivan#alnst sua#alnst hyuna#since they're mentioned and touched upon (if briefly)#rocktalks
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Allergies
This is a rewrite of one of my oldest shorts. As a writer - especially one who posts online - never worry about redoing some old work and posting the new one. Artists often will show their old work against their new right? No reason writers can't do the same either. Be proud of all your work, but feel free to show your improvement too!
The small station was in a popular shipping lane, so it had high amounts of traffic. Even though the humans had brought their wormhole generator drives, many people were still used to using the Gate system. Retrofitting every starship would be too costly, take too much time, and (some worried) would shift the power balance towards the humans too much. One didn't have to be human to be set in one's ways.
Because of the high amounts of traffic, most of the people on the station worked in the service industry. Providing meals, entertainment, refreshments, repairs and other such things, the population was quite diverse. In their off hours, they mingled and socialized.
Generi stood there awkwardly, still wearing the uniform of the trinket shop he worked in, his tail drooped and his ears low, trying to make sense of it. “Explain allergies to me one more time?”
Meg sniffed and wiped her eyes, but she smiled softly. She was sitting at a table in the resident's lounge. At her feet was a bouquet of flowers “Our bodies have this compound, called histamine. It's released in response to an attack - an internal attack - on our bodies. It's meant to help our bodies expel an invader. You know about itching? I've seen K'laxi do it. It's one of the regulators of our itching response. Mind, you, Histamine does way more than that, but we're talking about allergies right now."
"Wait, what do you mean by attack?" One of his ears perked up. This went from embarrassing to interesting very quckly.
"I know you have bacteria Generi, I also know your bodies digest food for energy. What happens when you get an infection?" Meg said, raising an eyebrow. Her sniffles and tears had subsided now that the bouquet was away from her face.
"Oh, I've never heard it called an 'attack.' Uh, our body temperature lowers, and we go into a kind of torpor. We lay down somewhere safe and stay still. Since the bacteria only can thrive in a narrow range of temperatures our bodies cool until our immune systems can take care of it." Generi puts his paw on the chair opposite Meg and looks at her, questioningly. She nods and he takes a seat.
"Really? Cools? But wouldn't that have put your ancestors at risk for predation- wait you didn't have predators, you were apex in your niche, weren't you?"
"I'm... not really sure. I'm not an anthropologist."
"Me neither, but I think I remember reading something like that. Our bodies are different. They raise their temperature to fight infections. It's more dangerous than your torpor because we can... well, die from it." Meg shrugs. "It doesn't happen too much anymore, but it used to be more of a thing."
"That sounds like a human, yes. In a race between killing your infection and killing yourself." Generi's tail flicks - a grin.
"We're getting off topic." Meg gestures towards the flowers, "in the case of an allergic reaction, our bodies call for histamine to be released when a harmless-" She glanced over and saw Generi's face "Fine, harmless - for us - substance enters our body, but we treat it like an invader."
"And this happens to everyone?" Generi was amazed at this impromptu biology lesson. It certainly seemed like humans were nearly constantly at war with something. Their own bodies, themselves, their neighbors, no wonder they were so good at it.
"No, not everyone, but a lot of people. It's fairly common. Anyway, in some people the body overreacts to the substance and produces histamine which causes the allergic reaction. Sneezing, runny nose, itchy eyes and body, congestion, things like that."
Generi flicked his ears and nodded, combing the two species gestures for assent. "Okay, I understand now. So the flowers...."
"Yes, I'm allergic to Roses." Meg blew her nose.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Generi was despondent. "I read about giving humans flowers as a sign of affection and I...I wanted..."
"Oh, I understand the intent Generi, I'm touched, really!" Meg reached over and patted his paw. She noticed his fur rise just a little bit. "I'm just allergic to Roses. Next time, try a different flower." She stood. "Wherever did you get them?"
"One of the humans over in Little Earth is growing them. He has a whole garden." He voice was filled with wonder.
"I had no idea. I can't believe the station authorities allowed it, some human plants are downright... prolific." Meg stared at Generi for a second. "How about you take me down to see them? I'll take an allergy pill first, and we can look at them together before it's shut down and it has to all go into the incinerator."
"You mean, like a date?" Generi's ears stood straight up, and his fur rippled once.
Meg started to laugh but held it back so as to not hurt his feelings. "Sure, just like a date. It'll be fun."
#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#humans are space australians#humans are fun#sci fi writing#writing#jpitha#humans and aliens#humans are space capybaras
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Peaceful property is a bl even if it's not. It's also about so many other things although not really delivering on a consistent message.
I thought about adding my thoughts to this thread but it was getting long and I started to get sidetracked so I decided to just make my own post about it and share my thoughts on it. @lurkingshan @bengiyo and @twig-tea all made good point about why this show is faltering with its own themes, and @respectthepetty made a compelling argument that the show knows what its doing.
I think no one is wrong and I land somewhere in the middle with it. As in, depending on what I choose to care about. Much like @respectthepetty, I am bias about this show. For different reasons tho. I like Tay and New a lot so I lead with that instead of my critical thinking. just as a personal aside, I tend to do this when my brain and heart don't align. I ignore when my brain tells me that the show is doing something wrong so that I can enjoy the rest. This works particularly well with QL for some reason. I am after all a person who liked Dangerous Romance even when my brain kept trying to damper my enjoyment with logic. And also sometimes I'm a hypocrite and there's no reason for why I like a show and not another. Ok, there's usually a reason but it's most often not a good one, or a rational one at least. That's just how it is.
Anyway. Because of all the excellent points made by that post I decided to fully engage my brain and I've been thinking about what this show is trying to say and I agree that unfinished business is the main thing in the ghost stories but I would have to shut off my brain completely to not see how class factors into all of it as well.
The ghosts up until now, except the chef, were all lower class and one can argue that it played a part in how they died or what happened after. I'm not including episode 7 for reasons that I will explain in a bit. Even if Ride's unfinished business was about love, the fact that he was the only rider doing deliveries in the rain, at least to me, read as he was driven by the need to make money in the first place. Even in the chef's case, the customer that Peach basically poisoned was rich and it was a part of the headlines about it and the reason for the restaurant getting shut down. Also most of the individual stories didn't get deep into these issues, case of the week usual issues, but it was always an underlying theme. Also as @twig-tea said all the parallels work even better because this disparity also exists between Home and Peach.
All this gets me to how I started this post. This is a bl even if it isn't. The choice to include the tragic bl storyline in the middle of this, in my own brain, can only be explained if I believe this is a bl. (The tragic bit was thematically consistent with this show.) Specifically a gmmtv bl. Cause ultimately they have a tendency to forsake narrative consistency if it stops serving the main romance. It's also the only way I can explain having a bl pair mirroring the other bl pair on screen. So in that way it's consistent with gmmtv. Just brush aside anything that can get in the way of the couple not having a happy ending. This is also how I explain my biggest issue with it. Pangpang. She's the shipper. She's been the shipper from basically the start.
Home basically killed her brother, why would she be the driving force in getting him forgiven? Because of my previously admitted bias, I forgave Home almost immediately. It's New and he didn't mean it, it was an accident and he wanted to call for help and do the right thing but his family interfered and.... I could come up with a lot of reasons because I want to forgive him. So everything else can be ignored. But all this obviously doesn't apply to Pang. So it can only be the bl in the not a bl show.
Now, on full brainy mode, this last episode makes no sense with everything else this show has been saying until now. They used a branded pair to ignore any class disparity between our mains, since the last ghost story didn't really parallel that, and over the forgiveness part, and jump straight into Peach has forgiven Home and will probably now become his saviour. Don't even get me started on the fact that Peach is still broke but saving the rich dude that turned his life to crap will be the most important thing right now. I wonder if gmmtv has ever ignored class disparity between a main couple and instead focused on the richer dude's drama while ignoring the struggle of the other one, all in favour of the main romance and lovey dovey moments 🤔. But I guess I'll reserve full judgement on that until the next episode.
yeah, so basically this is where I am at with this show. My two sides are fighting but come next wednesday my brain will take the back seat for 45 minutes so I can enjoy Tay and New and after that maybe I'll think about it some more.
#peaceful property#i hope this all made some sense to anyone that made it to the end#this is of course my own personal opinion and how I choose to engage with certain shows#it doesn't really make sense a lot of the time but it works for me#mostly#there are of course exceptions but that's a whole other thing#no need to get into it with this show#and and now I need to watch something that doesn't require brain power#perfect timing for fourever you#I am tired#thai bl#rose rambles
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the ages of shameless characters does nothing but drive me crazy, so I'm activating some detective skills to figure them out throughout the seasons. also - im ignoring the years or times that the seasons came out, just going by what the show says.
First off: Mickey - bday is 10 August 1994
Season 1: 16, because...
he's not in it much, he doesn't speak much, but we know two things - he's a teenager and he's under 18 since he goes to juvie. He's in juvie for some part of three seasons, so I think it's safe to put him at 16.
Season 2: 16 for a bit, then 17, because....
it's now summer, and Mickey comes out of juvie. I think he turns 17 that summer, because when he goes back in, people are wearing coats more so I assume it's getting colder, so it's past august.
Season 3: 17 for half, 18 for the other half, because...
it's summer at the start, so Mickey's been in juvie for like 6/7 months. he's still 17, because he didn't go to prison at any point. by the time he marries Svetlana, I think he's 18. I don't know how old you have to be to get married in Illinois, but I'll say 18 because American laws confuse me more than anything else. either way, again, people are wearing warmer clothes around the time he marries her, so he must be 18.
Season 4: 18, because...
it's winter, the whole way through. There's no way it's the next year, since Ian is still underage according to Mickey (altho there's a possibility he meant under the drinking age of 21, but I don't think so). So Ian's been gone for a few months, maybe like 5 since it could be Jan/Feb and he must have left Autumn time. Therefore, Mickey's 18. The whole time. Summer hasn't come, so his birthday hasn't passed.
Season 5: 19, because....
it's summer for the first part. Late summer, since the last half is in wintery time based on everyone's coats. We can assume that Mickey has his birthday either between season 4 and 5 or right at the beginning of season 5. So maybe he's 18 for like 5 seconds. But for the majority and the end, he must be 19.
Season 6: 19/20, because...
he's only in it for one scene (diabolical). I can't tell what the season is really, because there aren't many coats being worn at the start, and then loads at the end. It seems unreasonable that a whole spring and summer have been skipped, doesn't it? although, maybe it's possible. There are also some days when it seems really hot and some where it looks cold, so I have no idea. I don't know what the weather's like in Chicago, sorry. So he's either 19 or 20 when we see him. Most likely 20. Either way, he went into prison when he was 19, unless the trial was really long and lasted from winter to august, which I doubt.
Season 7: 21 (when he appears), because...
we have two episodes (again, very sad). it starts in the summer based on the t-shirts without jackets everyone wears. by the time ep 10 and 11 hit, it's colder. it's hard to tell at the end, since they're at the border or approaching the border and the further south you go the hotter it gets, and it's very sunny when mickey goes across. If season 6 really is that winter and they skipped the summer (which now makes more sense), it's the following summer, going into autumn. so, august has probably passed by the time we see mickey. so he's 21 now.
Season 8: 21, 22 by the end (even tho we don't see him), because...
no mickey (rude). we can still assume his age based on the seasons and other characters. it's summer again! I'm guessing it's the year after?? since it looked like season 7 was approaching autumn? that also means Ian and Trevor were dating for around a year, and I didn't realise it was so long to be honest. anyway, if it's summer again, at some point throughout mickey turns 22 (alone, in Mexico).
Season 9: 23, because...
one scene with mickey! it's still summer, the same summer as before I think, because there's no way the Gay Jesus thing lasted a full year. it looks like it's a direct continuation from season 8. by the last ep, Ian is wearing a hat and an undershirt under the prison uniform, so it's autumn-y time. so, mickey's either already 23 when we see him, or about to turn 23. by the end, he's definitely 23.
Season 10: 23 at the start, 24 by the end, because...
it's summer when Ian comes out of prison. I'd put it at early summer, since Ian says it's been less than a year of being in prison. so at the start, mickey's still 23. by the wedding, it's 'supposed to snow', so I guess it's full on winter. so august is passed, mickey is 24, and finally had his bday when he's with Ian.
Season 11: 24 at the start, 25 at the end, because...
summer again at the start based on all the t-shirts. early summer, because by ep 10, mickey goes swimming or does something in the pool, because I'm not convinced he can swim, which you aren't gonna do in the autumn/winter, right? by the last ep, there are more coats, and it's their anniversary so it's 'supposed to snow', so it must be winter time. so he's 24 at the start, 25 at the end.
In conclusion, Mickey is way younger than he seems (im not talking about Noel, he looks the age he's meant to be, he just seems older). Also, Gallavich has been together for 9 years.
Let me know if you disagree with any of this, I think I'll do Ian next! I don't know if this was obvious to everyone else and I'm just slow, but this is gonna help me loads when I'm figuring out weather seasons and ages for fics lol.
Shameless needs to deal with its shitty timelines. It was much better at consistency in the earlier seasons.
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hi!!!! i love your writing style, it’s so beautiful! when you have the time, could i request Ominis x reader where they have a really bad fight and Ominis says something really mean like totally out of pocket to where their relationship is cracking so he has to win her forgiveness and love back 😭 i love angst it hurts me so good
The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion
{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}
Introduction: The TriWizard Tournament was a tournament that promised glory, but also a tournament with a death toll so high, just surviving it would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Your significant other had begged you not to put your name in the Goblet of Fire. You told him you wouldn’t, but you've done so anyway in secret. These are the reactions of Garreth, Ominis, and Sebastian when they not only realize you put your name in behind their back, but that you’ve also been chosen as the Hogwarts Champion.
Word Count:
Garreth: ~ 2,200 words
Ominis: ~ 1,700 words
Sebastian: ~ 2,400 words
Warnings: Kissing, Angst
Author’s Note: Thanks for the request, anon! And I'm so happy you enjoy my writing ❤ I hope you don't mind I got Garreth and Sebastian in on your request haha. You can go ahead and jump to reader and Ominis' fight, there aren't any rules here. 😉 Sorry for taking so long on my fanfics! Work has been nuts lately, I've fit in writing whenever I had the drive and wasn't mentally burned out from my job. Hope you enjoy and have fun with it guys, got some good ol' angst written up for ya 😚
Songs (if interested):
Garreth’s song: War of Hearts (Acoustic Version) - Ruelle
Ominis’ song: Granite - Sleep Token
Sebastian’s song: Is It Really You? - Sleep Token, Loathe
Garreth:
When Garreth heard Headmaster Black announce your name, his blood went cold, the entertained smile vanishing from his face. But - we agreed you wouldn’t… No. No, this isn’t fun anymore. Stop this. Stop all of this now.
He watched you as you made your way up to stand with the other champions. You were smiling, happy, proud as can be that your name was chosen. But he caught the guilty look in your eye when you glanced his way. You lied to me.
The room seemed to be spinning while he sat still in his seat, looking Headmaster Black’s way but not listening to what he was saying about the tournament. His ears were ringing, he was starting to feel sick.
As soon as everyone was dismissed, Garreth shot up from his seat, wanting to get out of the Great Hall as fast as possible. You wanted to chase after him, explain yourself. But you could only watch Garreth’s form walk away as you were guided with the other champions out to discuss the tournament expectations.
-
Garreth had gone numb. The one he loved most had lied to him, deciding some dangerous, unnecessary tournament was worth more than him. Without thinking, he had gone to Professor Sharp’s empty classroom and started brewing whatever came to mind. He wasn’t in the mood for experimenting, he wanted to put together ingredients that made sense, he couldn’t take anymore surprises.
You had been watching him silently from the doorway for a few minutes, trying to think of what you could possibly say to him after what you had done.
Feeling someone’s presence, he turned to see who it was. He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly seeing it was you, turning back to his potions.
I deserved that welcome. “I -” You began but stopped short, not knowing how to continue.
He took a step back from his potion brew, resting his hands on the table, looking at the ground because he wasn’t quite ready to look at you. “I just want to know why. Why would you look me in the eye, promise me you wouldn’t put your name in the running, and then go off and do exactly that behind my back?” His voice was hard, his words direct.
You had never heard him be this stern with you. You didn’t think you’d ever heard him this stern with anyone. Way to go, you’ve managed to make the most fun loving, easy going person you know livid. “There’s no good excuse, Gar.”
“Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth. “You are not allowed to call me that.”
Your heart broke, but you knew you brought this on yourself.
He took a steadying breath, trying to push down his temper. “Either tell me why you did it or leave me alone.” His tone sounded like he was already done with you.
You nodded your head, quickly trying to find the words. “I… Natty put her name in.”
Garreth squeezed his eyes shut. He had heard Natty throwing the idea of entering around but he hadn’t realized she’d actually done it. If he had found out before you did, he would have done everything in his power to keep it hidden from you. Although, he didn’t know how successful he’d be when Natty was your best friend. “If she wanted to compete, that's her choice.”
“And this is mine. I’m not letting anything happen to her.”
He stood up straight then, looking at nothing in particular. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. You were the most capable person to compete for Hogwarts, and the only one in ages able to wield ancient magic, you both knew if you entered your name you’d get chosen. He had begged you to promise him you wouldn’t put your name in. But of course, it still ended up like this.
All it would take was one misstep, and you’d be taken from him forever. The thought had brought back the sickening feeling he had earlier. Wishing he had felt numb still, he sighed and rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Why do you have to be the hero every bloody time?” He grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.
You looked down, feeling horrible seeing him this way. It was a new low knowing you had caused it. Garreth was always bright and full of good humor, and your betrayal seemed to wash that all away like it never existed. “I’m so sorry. I never… never wanted to hurt you.”
He finally turned your way and looked over you solemnly for a moment. You held his gaze as he walked up and cupped your cheek. “I just had to go after you, didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have gone after someone dull? Why’d it have to be you?” He gave a small shake of his head as he mused to himself. “It’s cruel being in love with you.”
It hit you then that you could lose him over this. “I know.” You whispered.
With a disappointed sigh, he released you and went back to his potions station. “You can go now.” He said with no emotion, as if he were dismissing you.
You stared after him a moment longer, then took your leave.
He poured some of the wiggenweld potion he brewed into a flask. Just as he was about to cap it, rage coursed through him and he threw the flask against the wall.
-
He wasn’t planning on attending any of your challenges, but he found he couldn’t keep away. He needed to keep an eye on you or he’d feel worse than he already did. He remained near the back of the audience, pacing back and forth, anxiously running his hand through his hair throughout the whole thing. The sick, nervous feeling never dissipated, he could have sworn the sensation was burning a hole through his insides.
He nearly collapsed when the challenge was over, breathing easier with so much relief washing over him. He ran down to the champions’ tent to wait for you to leave. He called your name as you walked out and you quickly turned in the direction of his voice, eyes wide that he had not only shown up, but approached you first.
He closed the distance between you two and pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You wrapped your arms back around him, nearly crying at the collision.
He pulled back just enough to cup your cheek and look over your features. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His stomach dropped seeing all the gashes and bruises on your face.
“I’m fine.” You tried to reassure him, but his eyes darting all over you told you your words hadn’t done much reassuring.
He took your hand in his and pulled you urgently along with him. “I’m getting you to the hospital wing, and I’m going to make you some wiggenweld potions.” He stopped briefly to look you dead in the eye, no nonsense. “And you’re going to drink every single one I put in front of you.” He turned and began tugging you along again.
You smiled to yourself, not daring to disagree with him. “Yes, sir.”
-
On your way to the hospital wing, you walked by the wall where the Room of Requirement would be. It never showed up when you were with someone else, but that day it did. Garreth slowed to a stop, furrowing his brows as he watched the door form before him.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s the Room of Requirement. Looks like it believes we both need it now.” You tugged him in with you and his eyes went wide at it all before him.
“You’ve had all this to yourself since fifth year?” He was in awe, how could you ever want to leave this place? As his eyes explored the room, they landed back on you, and he remembered in a panic what he was originally doing. “Sit down.” He commanded. He turned and scanned the room for your potions station. Spotting it, he strode up and began on some wiggenwelds. While those took a moment to brew, he looked around for some bandages, anything to patch you up with.
“Right here.” You held them up as you sat on the couch and began working them onto yourself.
He snatched them from you, sat down, and started doing it for you. You watched him as he fixated on your scrapes and bumps. Being this close again, you wanted to kiss his freckles more than ever before. He had been avoiding you since you last spoke, you were convinced you had lost him. You probably had and this was only a moment of weakness on his part.
“I love you.” You found yourself saying. “I’d do anything for you, I hope you still know that.”
He seemed unphased by your words as he continued cleaning you up. “You’d do anything but keep your name out of a burning goblet, it seems.”
You closed your eyes and sighed through your nose. He had you there.
He stopped his movements suddenly and shifted away from you, sighing himself and leaning his elbows on his knees. “You broke my heart, you know.”
Tears stung at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall, you weren’t the victim here. All you could do was nod your head even though he wasn’t looking at you.
“You promised me you wouldn’t put your name in that damned goblet.” His voice was strained. He went silent for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “You got me thinking about life outside of Hogwarts.” He began again. “It’s only going to get worse once we leave here and we’re out there. You’re going to put yourself in worse and worse situations for others.” He rubbed his hand down his face roughly at the thought and let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.”
You sat up straight, trying to keep your composure as your nerves went into a stomach-turning frenzy. You knew what he was getting at.
“I don’t want to be in love with you… I don’t.” He admitted. He looked up to the potion pots and saw the wiggenwelds were done. He stood to his feet to grab them and bring them over. He knelt before you, holding up one of the flasks. “You’re to drink all three of these.” He looked up at you with a face of you don’t have a say, drink it.
You took the first one from him, downing it, then did the same for the following two. Once you finished he got up and discarded the flasks. He returned to your side on the couch and took your hand in his. He looked down at it in his lap, tracing shapes on your skin lightly with his thumb. “What I do know is that being apart from you feels so much worse. Now that… that I know I can’t bear.” He looked at you then, his face told you he was upset with himself for feeling this way, for choosing to stay by your side.
You had caused this. You had done him wrong. And he was right, things were going to get worse after Hogwarts. You really were a cruel one to love.
“I don’t know how long I'll be furious with you, but I’m thinking it’ll be a while.” He let himself get lost in your eyes for a moment. “Glad you’re okay at least.” He released your hand and got up to leave.
You were going to let him go, but you stood to your feet and stormed after him. You grabbed at him to face you and then crashed your lips onto his. You cupped his face and he shot his hands to your waist, his fingers digging deep into your sides.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes narrowed at you and he exhaled, frustrated. He was beyond exasperated with you, but he still craved you like no other. Furrowing his brows, he returned his lips to yours, moving his mouth against yours to satiate said craving. His hands slid up your back as he wrapped his arms around you.
He hadn’t realized how starved he was for your taste until he had you there in his arms again. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting to get more of you, and you gladly granted him access. Anything he wanted, you’d give it to him. He could feel your compliance, and he was tempted to see just how sorry you were.
But his hands slowly moved up to yours and removed them from his face. He tore his lips from yours and looked over your flushed features, wanting more but not allowing himself more, then he released you. “Nice try.” He turned and made his way out. “Stay sweet and I might let you call me ‘Gar’ again.” He called over his shoulder.
-
Ominis:
“You what?!” Ominis was fuming now, you had seen him angry with you before, but never like this.
“I thought,” You exhaled in frustration, “I thought it would help your family approve of me.”
“My family should be none of your concern!”
“I’m not a pure-blood, Ominis, you know they would never approve of me. Being the Hogwarts Champion has to mean something. If they ever find out we’re together, they’d arrange a marriage for you like that.” You said with a snap of your fingers. “This tournament could help prove my worth.”
He shook his head, pacing back and forth. “And you’d think I’d just roll over and let that happen?! This was not the answer, I’ll never understand why you thought it was.”
“There’s no need to get this upset. I might not even get picked anyway.”
His pacing came to a sudden halt, his eyebrows shot up in incredulity. “Is that supposed to be a joke? Of course your name’s going to get picked!” His fury turned into something with a bit more worry then. “I can’t help you when you're out there, you’re going to have to do all those challenges on your own.”
“Whatever they throw at me, I’ll be able to handle it. I’m sure I’ve already survived through worse than what they’re planning.”
“That’s just it! You had no control over everything that’s happened and you survived through it! This? You’re actively seeking out danger now, it’s pointless! When did you become so dim-witted as to not see that?!” Ominis regretted his words immediately, desperately wanting to take them back but unable to do so.
You were stunned for a moment he had actually spoken to you in such a way. A petty smile formed on your face. “Seems we’re done here.”
Ominis called your name in a panic as he heard you storm out of the undercroft, but you ignored him. He dug around frantically in his pocket for his wand, holding it up and having it guide him to follow where you had gone. He knew his wand didn’t work as a tracker, but he had the slightest bit of hope that if it sensed how much he needed to get to you it might help him out. But no such luck.
-
It had been a week since you and Ominis fought and the dreaded day had finally arrived to announce the TriWizard tournament champions. Every now and then his wand would sense you were in the same room as him, but he didn’t need his wand to be able to tell you were keeping your distance.
How could I have spoken to you the way I had? Every time he thought back to it, he wanted to ask Sebastian to punch him, just bash his face right in.
Even though Ominis knew it was coming, he was still hit with an overwhelming sense of dread when Headmaster Black announced your name. He didn’t clap with everyone else and he hoped you noticed.
He left the Great Hall with everyone else and his wand sensed Poppy was near him. An idea instantly formed in his head. “Excuse me, Poppy?”
Poppy turned her head in surprise hearing Ominis call to her. “Y - Yes, Ominis?”
It was a relief hearing your best friend’s voice still sound so friendly to him. You must not have told anyone about how he spoke to you, which only made him feel worse. He was the villain here. “I need your help with something.”
-
He was leaning against a tree in the woods behind the beasts class stables, hands in his pockets and tapping his foot anxiously. He heard your footsteps crunching the leaves on your way over.
“Poppy? Poppy, I’m here with the feed, what’s happened to High Wing?” You asked in a panic. When Poppy didn’t respond, you looked up from the feed in your arms and Ominis stepped forward.
You groaned and turned on your heel to leave.
“Please - just wait -”
“Want to insult me some more, do you?” You snipped without looking back at him.
“I’m going to have my family speak to Headmaster Black.” Ominis blurted, and you froze. “They’ll get you out of the games.”
He could hear you drop the feed to the ground. “Don’t you dare.” A chill went down his spine at your warning tone but he stood his ground.
“You don’t have a say in the matter. You’re not competing.”
He could hear you stomp up to him, could feel your presence, and you were close. His breath hitched when he realized you were close enough for him to feel your breath against his skin. It had hit him all at once how he hadn’t been able to touch you for a week, and he didn’t know if he was able to keep himself from closing the distance between you two right then and there.
“Back off, Gaunt. How about you sit down and shut up while I show this entire valley what this ‘dim-wit’ can do?”
Ominis’ lips parted slightly. Oh...
He fisted the fabric of your shirt and shot his lips in the direction of where he felt your breath and heard your voice. It was all too perfect getting your lips on the first try, especially with you having riled him up, speaking to him as you had.
He nipped at your lip and it drew the softest of moans from you, but he caught it. He always heard every little noise he could get out of you. Your hands went up and ran through his hair, you had missed him too, he could tell. Remembering where the tree he was leaning against was, he walked you back until you were pressed against it.
He released your shirt and brought his hands to your waist. His kisses turned less ravenous and more apologetic. He slowed and deepened his mouth movements. “I’m sorry.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m so sorry. I had no right speaking to you that way.” He said in between kisses. “There’s no excuse. I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
“Ominis, stop talking.” You sighed, greedily taking his lips again. Though his body weight was against you, keeping you trapped between him and the tree, he was the compliant one.
Ominis pulled back, as much as he wanted to keep connected to you, you two had unfinished business. “I won’t go to my family… if it’s what you really want.” Ominis said, still a bit breathless from your kiss. “Just… don’t do it for them, I beg of you. They aren't worth it.” Ominis leaned forward to kiss at your neck tenderly as he waited for your answer.
You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “It’s what I want. If not me, then who?”
His mouth on your neck stilled. As much as he hated to agree with you on this, he did. If he sent his family to speak with Headmaster Black to have another student take your place, he’d practically be sending that student to their death. You were the most capable person he had ever known, and you didn’t even need dark magic to accomplish all that you had. If anyone was going to survive this thing, it was you.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loving embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took in your scent, reveling in this moment you had together. He thought he had ruined everything after your fight.
More than anything, he wanted to go back in time and do everything he could to stop you from ever entering your name into that Goblet. But in the end, it was always your choice, not his.
-
The days leading up to your first challenge, Ominis kept close to your side, constantly asking you questions on how prepared you were.
“Did you brew enough wiggenweld potions? How about we start on some thunderbrews for you as well?”
“I know how effective the chomping cabbages are, but let’s get some mandrakes and venomous tentaculas grown to be on the safe side.”
“Were you able to put that enchantment I showed you on your competition robes?”
The day of the challenge, he was able to keep his composure, but only because you asked him to. You were anxious as well, and him being sick with worry for you would only add to the frenzy of nerves within you.
He asked Sebastian to narrate everything that was happening while you were out there. Hearing Sebastian’s depiction and the blasting sounds of spells from the arena unraveled his calm exterior more and more by the second. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, leg bouncing up and down rapidly. He didn’t know how he was going to have to sit through two more of these.
Use the Unforgivables if you have to, I don’t care. He found himself thinking. Whatever it takes, just come back to me.
The sound of the crowd cheering and the feel of Sebastian roughly patting his back in excitement told him you had completed the first challenge. He immediately stood to his feet and took out his wand, his legs were jelly but he pushed through and went straight for the champions’ tent. As soon as he arrived you had run up and thrown your arms around him.
He didn’t hesitate to drop his wand to the ground and wrap his arms around you. He closed his eyes, holding you so close to him he had started to lift you off the ground a bit. He was beyond thankful to every little thing in the universe that aligned to help him get back to you.
“If you still believe my family would be able to tear me from you, you might actually be a dim-wit.”
He could feel you chuckle against him. “I’d like to see them try after what I just accomplished back there.”
-
Sebastian:
Sebastian had let his emotions get the better of him again. It was his fault you had been avoiding him for days now, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He tried giving you your space but he needed to at least let you know how sorry he was. As soon as the TriWizard champions announcement ceremony was over, he’d find you and apologize. He needed to be better, he knew that.
But then your name was called.
Wait, that can’t be right. You didn’t even put your name in so how…? His breathing grew a bit heavier. No, no Professor Black read the wrong name. You told each other everything. And he specifically had you promise him you wouldn’t enter.
He watched for your features to see if you were just as confused as he was, but you weren’t. You were smiling, happily receiving congratulatory pats on the back as you walked up to stand with the champions already chosen, not glancing his way once.
He mentally willed you to look his way as you stood up there. Give me something, give me anything. Tell me with your eyes why you did this. But no use, you were up there looking as if you had no reason not to be.
When everyone was dismissed he stayed back a bit, wanting to go up to you. But you and the other champions were escorted away to discuss what was to be expected going into this tournament.
Sebastian waited outside the Great Hall until you were done. Once he saw you walking out, he pushed up off the wall he was leaning against and came up behind you, calling your name.
“Did you enter because of me? Is this my fault?”
You stopped in place, taking a moment to turn and face him. You had some trouble meeting his gaze. “You weren’t the main reason, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t a part of it.”
“Then why? Why else would you do this?”
You looked over his dispirited features in silence for a moment. “Since the moment I arrived at Hogwarts, I felt as if I’ve been running around taking care of everyone else. And after our last fight, I… I don’t know. Something in me snapped, Sebastian. Putting my name in that Goblet, it -” You exhaled, feeling like he wouldn’t understand but you decided to tell him anyway, “it was the first time I felt like I was doing something for me.”
Sebastian looked down, it seemed you didn’t tell each other everything like he once believed. How could he have not known you felt this way? He was the one seeing you and he didn’t even realize something had been off with you.
“I know I made a promise not to do it. And for breaking that promise, I apologize. But… I don’t regret doing it.” You were ashamed at the admission, but you wanted him to know.
He realized it then when he met your gaze, he had lost you. You had been slipping away from him for a while, and he had been so blinded by his own issues he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
A nasty, stomach turning feeling hit him all at once. “Is this… Are you ending things between us?”
His heart constricted painfully when you didn’t answer him right away, didn’t reassure him that he had it all wrong and you would never part from him. You were looking at him like you knew the next thing you were about to say would make him feel terrible.
“Sebastian, I’ll always be around to help you with Anne -”
He huffed in disbelief and turned on his heel to get out of there, as far away from you as possible. He didn’t want to hear you finish that sentence, how you had started it had already broken him enough.
-
He fell back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t stop the tears from stinging at them but he could sure as hell keep them from falling. It hurt more thinking back to the conversation and realizing that not once had you called him ‘Seb’ like you normally did. How long has it been since you had? Even more indication of how far you had drifted away. How did this happen?
When was the last time you asked him to help you with anything? There were a few times in fifth year you had asked for his help getting the triptychs, but those outings had benefited him as well in trying to get a cure for Anne. Was there ever a time he had helped you with anything that was purely for you? He was disgusted with himself, not being able to name a single time. No wonder he lost you.
And now you were going to compete in a tournament famous for being so dangerous, it was common for the participants to die. Throwing yourself into jeopardy like this, you hadn’t asked for his help. No. You had banished him from your side. How could you expect him to keep his distance in circumstances such as these?
The tears were overflowing, escaping out of his shut eyelids and he pressed his arm over them tighter. Just come back. I need you back. I’ll be better, I promise.
-
Ominis had advised Sebastian to give you your space, if you wanted his help you would ask for it. But all these horrifying scenarios kept popping up in his head, scenarios where you die and he could have done something to prevent it. He didn’t care if you ignored him, didn’t care if you hated him, as long as you were alive, you could feel however you damn well pleased about him.
He had scoured the library for any enchantment you could put on your competition robes, any herbology methods to make your carnivorous plants more vicious, anything to make your potions more effective.
He lost sleep over it, he didn’t mind. He’d much rather sneak into the restricted section late at night than face those nightmares of your corpse he’d been having the past week. Once he felt he had enough notes written out of all these things that could help you, he decided to find you.
He waited for you to come outside of the Room of Requirement with a notebook of everything he had researched for you. It was late but there was still a good amount of time before curfew. As the halls were getting darker and emptier, he sat on the ground, head back against the wall until you came out.
He startled a bit when the door finally formed. He sprang to his feet and straightened out his clothes as he watched you walk out. Your eyes met his and it pained him that you looked uneasy to see him.
“I um -” He cleared his throat, a bit unsure of himself now that he had your full attention. “I have something for you.” He held out the notebook to you.
You glanced down at it in his hands, then eyed him as you took it. “What’s this?”
Sebastian moved himself to your side, looking over your shoulder, opening the notebook as you held it in your hand and gave as brief an explanation as he could. He pointed out where you could find the herbology notes, the enchantment notes, and the potion notes. As he explained, your eyes drifted gradually up from the notebook to his face.
After a moment, he noticed you looking at him and not the notebook. “What?”
“Nothing.” You looked back down at the notebook. “Thank you for this.”
Sebastian didn’t say anything and stayed where he was next to you. You looked back up at him, wondering if there was something else he wanted. He hadn’t been this close to you for weeks. He missed your scent, your warmth, your lips being this close to his. He wanted to claim them again, but he knew he couldn’t. You weren’t his anymore.
Rather than pulling you close, he kept his hands to himself and gave a single nod of his head to you. Then he turned on his heel and left.
You watched him walk away in silence. You were expecting him to ask for something in return, help with some cave that had some book that mentioned some untapped magic. Just like he had always done. But he had just given you the notebook and left it at that.
Where was this Sebastian before? Truth be told, you always felt like he could walk out on you at any moment. Especially if he ever felt like he no longer had a need for your ancient magic, there were many nights you’d be up wondering if that was the only reason he was with you. This along with the way he would snap at you whenever he was frustrated, taking it out on you. He had gotten better about it since fifth year, but it still occurred.
Whether he was doing this to get you or your ancient magic back, only time would tell.
-
The day of your first challenge arrived, and Sebastian hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before. He debated not turning up at all, but the idea had made him feel nauseous. He needed to stay close to you throughout this whole thing.
Whether or not he actually watched was still up in the air. He stood behind one of the wooden beams in the audience stands, arms crossed over his chest tightly in hopes of keeping himself from throwing up. When it was announced you were up next, he squeezed his eyes shut and the blood drained from his face. This could be it, these could be your last few moments alive. He could hear you start the challenge below and sweat began to form on his forehead.
“Sebastian, you've got to see this!” Lucan Brattleby shouted to him over the crowd’s cheers.
Sebastian’s head snapped his direction, and he noticed the crowd’s faces. They weren’t biting their nails or covering their eyes in horror, they were ecstatic, brows raised and eyes wide in awe. Sebastian came out from behind the pillar and looked down into the arena below.
A rousing sensation coursed through him as he watched you. You’re glorious. He always knew you were capable and talented. He’d caught glimpses of your skill with a wand when you competed in Crossed Wands or fought side by side on your outings together. But he had never just… watched you. His worry for you in this tournament was fizzling away the more he witnessed you practically dance through this challenge in the arena below. Your footwork was clean, your defensive reflexes quick, and your offensive casts brutal.
He could watch you do this all day.
When the challenge ended, you had placed first with a sweeping victory. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to run to you and congratulate you, tell you how amazing you were himself. Even if you only gave him a fleeting glance, even if you ignored him.
His nerves went into a frenzy seeing you come out of the tent. You had spotted him right away, and you seemed genuinely pleased to see him. He was taken aback and thought his heart would burst out of his chest.
You made your way up to him and he stuttered trying to get his words out. “I - I just wanted to come by and tell you -”
“Come here.” He was silenced when you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He was stunned but quickly shook himself out of it, wrapping his arms around you to keep you on him like this.
You were in complete control of this kiss, and Sebastian had no complaints. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, holding him in a way that you could move his head so his mouth was right where you wanted it at all times. His heart was racing in anticipation while yours raced with adrenaline. His body was turning into a furnace for you. He knew this wasn’t a makeup kiss, this was a passionate, emotions are high kind of kiss. But he’d give it to you all the same, anything you wanted, it was yours.
You had never felt so on top of the world in your life. The sound of the crowd cheering you on so loudly the arena began to shake, completing the first challenge like it was nothing, and taking charge of Sebastian Sallow’s lips, it was all unbelievably intoxicating.
“Thank you.” You said breathily, breaking from him. “For that notebook, it helped more than you know, thank you.”
“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” He shook his head, then placed his forehead on yours. “You deserve so much more.”
You stroked his cheek with your thumb, taking in his freckles, soaking in this short moment where you two were close again.
“Can you see yourself coming back to me?” He found himself asking.
You took a moment to answer as you kept your hold on each other. “I don’t know… I still love you. I think I always will. But -” You thought on your words carefully and Sebastian stiffened, tightening his hold on you, afraid of letting you slip away again. “I don’t know if I have anything more to give.”
“I’m not asking you to give anything.” He said quickly, voice just above a whisper. “I don’t care if you never help me with finding a cure again. Just… Please, don’t tear yourself away from me.”
You looked into his eyes, not wanting to break this moment, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. “I need more time.”
He closed his eyes briefly at that answer, then gave a small nod. It wasn’t what he wanted you to say, but there was still hope in it. He’d wait, as long as it took. And he’d continue helping you in this tournament whether you liked it or not.
#sebastian sallow imagine#garreth weasley x mc#garreth weasley x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow fanfiction#garreth weasley x you#garreth weasley imagine#garreth weasley fanficiton#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt fanficiton#ominis gaunt imagine#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt x you
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Part of the Family
Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.
Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.
“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.
“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.
“Alexander, you made it!”
“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.
“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”
Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.
“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.
“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.
“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.
“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.
“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.
“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.
“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.
“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.
“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”
“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.
“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.
“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”
“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.
“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”
“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.
“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.
“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.
“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.
“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”
“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”
“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”
“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”
Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.
“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”
“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.
“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”
The audacity of that hick!
“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”
“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.
“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”
Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.
“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.
“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.
“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.
“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.
“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”
“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”
“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.
“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.
…..
Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.
“The kid’s shitting himself.”
“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”
“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”
“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”
“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”
“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”
“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”
“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”
“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”
“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”
“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.
“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”
“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”
“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”
“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”
“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”
“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”
“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”
“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”
“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.
“Let’s have some fun.”
….
“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”
“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.
“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”
“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”
“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”
He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.
“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.
“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.
“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”
“I think so.”
“Sorry, officer.”
“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”
Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.
“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”
“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”
“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”
“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.
“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”
Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.
“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”
At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?
“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”
“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.
He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.
“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”
“I just want to find Abby.”
“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”
“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”
“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”
Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.
“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”
“Where’s Abby?”
“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”
Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.
“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”
“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.
“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”
“I already told you my name…”
“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.
“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”
Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?
“What… what?”
“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.
“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom���s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.
“Hmmm…”
“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”
“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.
“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”
“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”
“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”
“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”
And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.
“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.
“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.
“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”
Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.
“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”
“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”
“Without control, our society falls apart.”
“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”
“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”
“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.
“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”
“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.
“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.
A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.
“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”
For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.
“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”
Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.
“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.
“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.
“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”
“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.
“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”
“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”
“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”
“Abby’s here? Fuck!”
“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”
“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”
“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”
“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”
“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”
Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.
“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.
“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.
“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.
“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.
“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.
“That was a good one, bro.”
“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”
…..
“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.
“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.
“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”
“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”
“I... I…”
“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”
“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”
“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”
“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”
“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”
In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.
“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.
“You have no idea what that feels like!”
“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.
“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.
“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”
….
After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.
“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.
“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”
"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."
"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."
“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”
“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.
“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”
“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”
“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.
#male tf#mind change#reality change#jockification#corruption#mental transformation#race change#musclegrowth#gay to straight
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Agatha All Along Thoughts:
The thing that I've been thinking about that hasn't been touched on yet: the Witch's Road gives "what is missing."
Billy is CERTAIN that this means his brother, or that he gets to choose what it means. However, the MCU has been pretty clear up to this point that this is often not at all how magic works.
Also, if you look at the way the Witch's Road is laid out, like, look at the way the trees look and how stylized they are, look at the decorations in a few places... the same lights that are in Billy's room show up in Agatha's trial, those triangular string lights, and the trees on the Witch's Road are extremely stylized. Some look like the tree on the cover of the Torah Ark, and some look like the tabletoppers/centerpieces from William's bar mitzvah, and some have items hanging from them which look like the items hanging on the centerpieces. Additionally, the door didn't show up until Billy came downstairs. This may just be because the coven wasn't complete until Billy was in the room, but it may also be because he's the driving force behind getting everyone on the Road at all. The Road responds to the coven, right? It forms itself to the coven? And if each of the witches gets a trial, then the only place where William's influence might leak out, the only space that might be 'his,' where he's trying to, maybe, get Billy's attention would be in these liminal spaces. (His ability to reach out only happening in those most liminal of spaces would make a lot of sense if he's sort of been hovering for years in a sort of limbo.)
Oh fuck, I just realized that we got Randall/Ralph Bohner telling Billy "it's like watching yourself on TV." FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. That's not an accident. Ahhhhh fuck. Poor William.
I think what episode 6 has telegraphed to us -- one of the things it has, anyway -- is that what he is "missing" is William Kaplan, and he's going to have to integrate these two personalities/two lives into one thing.
(My theory re: Tommy is that the "quest" in VisionQuest, the third part of this trilogy, will be finding Tommy. I also think that Eddie is Hulkling -- his immediate explanation for the Hex was 'aliens,' Hulkling is often sleeveless, lots of little things. That might be a red herring, but I think they may be giving us Hulkling there.)
I really, really appreciate the level to which these choices have clearly been thought out. I'll be pulling apart the implications of this show for magic in the MCU for a while.
(If you're here to tell me that the MCU is dumb or you hate it, please go away. I'm not interested in that conversation.)
#agatha harkness#agatha all along#agatha spoilers#agatha x rio#billy kaplan#wiccan mcu#wiccan marvel
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bsf!rafe goes to reader's house
warnings: fluff, smut, mdni hi everyone!!! i took a few weeks off but i'm back and better (and hotter) than ever! anyway. kissesss!
rafe could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he pulled up in the driveway of your home, his jaw clenched as he half-heartedly parked it in front of your house; he hadn’t even thought of what he’d say to you, only thing he knew was that every part of him was screaming at him to go see you.
you could hear a car screech to a halt outside your home from the second floor, and even though you knew who it was, you made your way to the balcony of your room, seeing the blonde man making his way to your doorway in a determined stride.
the pounding of his fist against the wooden door could be heard all around the large home as you rushed down the stairs, your bare feet against the soft carpet, looking down to make sure you wouldn't trip, your mind too fuzzy to make sense of anything.
rafe stood outside your door, his clothes soaked by the rain, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he looked at anywhere but the peephole, turning and walking away when it had been almost three minutes without anyone answering the door.
a part of you was confused why he didn't just open your door; both of you had the keys to the other's house, having secretly exchanged them when you were twelve and swore your friendship would last forever.
when he was almost at his car, you flung the door open, rushing to rafe, your bare feet prickled by the wet pavement, the boy turning to look down at you with wide eyes.
"why did you come here?" you ask, raindrops falling onto your face, making your vision blurred. rafe swallowed, looking at anywhere but you when he tried to find an answer to your question.
"you, uh, you hung up before i could say anything."
"yeah, but you could've pretended it never happened. why did you come here?"
he sighed, rubbing his jaw, his tongue poking out from in between his lips, "what do you want me to say? that i miss you?"
"well, do you?"
"jesus." he let out a noise that was between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. "of course."
"why? why do you miss me? after everything you put me through, what gives you the right to miss me?"
"i don't know!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "i don't know why i miss you, when i know that you deserve something better. but for some reason, i can't stop thinking about you. i'm miserable without you. it's like you've ruined me. you make me not want any other person, because no one can be you."
"oh yeah?" you said, cocking your head, "what about sofia?"
"i broke up with her! you wanna know why i was with her? because i was afraid. i was afraid that if i told you what i felt for you, i'd lose you. but now, it doesn't even matter because i already lost you. it's so fucking infuriating, because you know me, i'm not the type of guy to say sappy shit and make some kind of romantic love confession, but for fuck's sake, i don't even like most of the people around me, let alone love, but you? for some fucking reason you're an exception."
he placed his hands on your rain-soaked cheeks, your hair sticking to your skin as you looked up at him, small drops forming at the corners of his eyes.
"for some reason my brain, my body, my stupid ass heart are all so fucking drawn to you, and it drives me so insane that i pretend to want to be with someone else just so you'd end up pushing me away and hating my guts even though you're the only person i can put up with. every part of me has belonged to you for so fucking long, but for some reason i could never accept it. but, fuck, i have nothing to lose anymore."
and without a warning, his lips were on yours, and even though you knew you deserved better, no part of you wanted to pull away from him, allowing him to lead you inside, into your very own bedroom, the two of you peeling off your rain-soaked clothing.
his lips might've just made a trail down your stomach, but the heat it caused was everywhere; your head, your collarbones, your tits, your stomach, your pussy, your thighs, your calves, your entire body on fire in a way that you hadn't experienced before, not even with him.
rafe's focus was on your tits, his mouth on your right nipple, first pressing small kisses, then small licks, until your nipple was in his mouth, all the while his left hand was on your left nipple, rolling it around between his fingers, occasionally squeezing it in a way that made you curl your toes.
and when you felt his cock at your entrance, you were prepared for him to fuck you like he often did; roughly, fast, without much care in the world; but he didn't, and even when he had been thrusting into you for so long you couldn't even remember how long it had lasted, he kept at his pace, he kept rolling his hips at the same pace, his right thumb rubbing your clit while he pressed kisses on your neck, softly murmuring the words you'd been craving to hear for so long.
"i love you."
and no matter how many times you came, he kept at it, at that same slow, yet incredibly intense, pace, until you could no longer process what was going on.
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#outer banks smut#obx#obx fandom#obx 4
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DEMON SLAYER HEADCANONS (RANDOM)
I was debating whether I should just make it NSFW for all the characters and write all fluff separately but couldn't decide so... Giyuu and Gyomei's is NSFW and Sanemi and Kyojuro's is Fluff. It's titled headcannons but.. is it really? idk Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Characters: Tomioka Giyuu, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Rengoku Kyojuro, Himejima Gyomei x AFAB!Reader
Genre: NSFW, Fluff
Content Warning: fem!reader, (self)degradation, curse words (excuse my language 𓏗-𓏗), slight dub con if you squint really hard, alcohol, size kink. I think that's about it.
p.s I got a little carried away writing Gyomei's (nsfw) my bad lol.
GIYUU (FREAK IN THE SHEETS) HES LOWKEY A PERVERT
Giyuu doesn’t really initiate any physical affection at first. Truth be told, he doesn’t really initiate ANYTHING in the beginning besides confessing to you.
Tbh he didn’t expect to get this far after confessing. He never imagined you would accept and return his confession. So he’s not exactly sure what to do next since he didn't plan for this.
In the beginning of the relationship you have to lead. In all aspects. It's definitely a slow burn and he's awkward as hell about it all but don’t patronize him! He’s trying. He likes you and he knows you like him, he doesn’t want to hold back with you but he’s just… so. clueless.
He’s touch starved af, he’s not used to affection, compliments or attention but goddamn does he EAT. THAT. SHIT. UP. He loves it. You make him feel like no one has ever made him feel before. But take it easy with him, he's quick to get overwhelmed. It's all new to him and it scares tf out of him. But thrills him all the same.
Gaining Giyuu's trust is a difficult feat in itself, but making him fall in love? Girl you must have magical powers or something because it would take A LOT for Giyuu to allow himself to ever get as close as he has with you. Giyuu is definitely the type to wait until marriage or until he's more than sure that he can trust you.
It would take him some warming up to and getting used to (even though he craves it every second of the day). He's deprived himself of emotions for so long it takes him a while to relax and let himself go, let himself feel and experience.
But when he finally does, buckle up buckaroo because it's going to be an absolutely exhilarating ride.
Giyuu is one hundred percent pussy drunk after his first time with you. He never had a high sex drive, really only masturbating because he needed to every once in a while and out of fear that he wouldn't be able to use it at all. But even when he did he never got that sense of "relief", much less any satisfaction and the thought of masturbating to someone that he'd never and would never be intimate with just turned him off all the more.
That was, until he met you. You and your presence that completely overloaded his senses, your loving eyes that seemed to drown him whenever he made eye contact, your melodious voice calling his name almost sensually, your lingering touch so soft on his skin, all drawing him in like a siren luring a sailor into the waters with her. And now he finally understood what it was all about. And that sex drive that was nearly non existent before now came back with a full force almost too much for him to handle.
Once you guys get past his firsts and get more comfortable with each other, he’d change but only behind closed doors for the most part.
I'm not saying Giyuu has a complete 180 personality change, but you definitely have the privilege of seeing a side to Giyuu no has has ever seen before. One Giyuu himself didn't even know existed.
In the comfort of his place, or yours, or wherever he can get you alone, he’d do and say the most perverse things that leave you with your mouth wide open and eyes nearly bulging because your quiet little dewdrop really just said that to you.
He can be bold when he wants but he does it in a way that’s just so..??? Endearing? Charming? I can’t find the right word, but he could be telling you his most perverse fantasies with a blush on his face and a hitch in his voice and it would have you absolutely putty in his beautiful hands. (also headcanon I believe Giyuu would have the prettiest hands -long slender fingers, hands the size of your face, prominent veins, clean, trimmed nails- EVERYTHING. all the works)
Getting home from a stressful mission? Need a long, warm bath to relax? No problem, your sweet bf is already setting it up for you.
As he helps you strip- lemme clarify- as HE strips you down, this man will slide your panties down, slowly, kneeling down before you as he caresses the soft flesh of your thighs glancing up at you with a small appreciative smile. Rising up steadily while holding eye contact with you, he goes from looking up to looking down as he towers over you after successfully removing your panties. Never once breaking eye contact, he’d raise the fist that had your pantie bunched up to his face and sniff much to your horror.
Homeboy would sniff deeply, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at your scent, choking on a groan, before staring you down with dilated pupils, hard as a rock. He’d stuff them into his pocket “for later” he’d mumble before walking over to you, planting a sweet kiss on your slightly agape mouth before saying “enjoy your bath love” with a devious smirk ghosting on his lips.
He’d simply walk out of the bathroom after that -leaving you slightly horrified but more turned on that he just did that- to your shared bedroom while you bathed, to soil your panties even more. A process he’s done more than once (some without your knowledge, but what you don't know won't hurt.. Right? He can't help it, he’s addicted to you. But you know. You always find them. You do most of the laundry after all, always finding them absolutely wrecked and crusty. Thanks Giyuu.)
Giyuu gets so wrapped up in you and the way you feel that if you initiate anything with him, as long as you're behind closed doors and shielded away from the outside world, he's on you in seconds, completely ignoring anything that's not you.
Giyuu doesn't fully realize how far gone he is with you until the sound of his own self deprecating voice, growling in the distance rings in his ears, "what is it? can't handle it? huh? is the loners dick too big?" "tell me, pretty girl, is my dick game as lame as they said it would be?" "scream my name baby, let everyone know how good this loser is fucking you."
He doesn't even recognize himself, he's embarrassed by his own actions/words so believe that he's going to be blushing the entire time he's dicking you down.
He needs reassurance, craves it so much that in moments like those he doesn't even realize what he's saying, brain turned to mush as he's lost in the way you feel, all the insults he's been called combined with the fact that he never imagined he'd be as close to someone as he is with you, have him spewing such self degrading dirty talk. Honestly his brain short circuits whenever you guys get freaky~ because one he never knew it could feel this good, two he can't even begin to comprehend that he is the one that has you whining, sobbing, cumming as hard as you are and three he's getting to experience this with an absolute knockout like you.
(i saw someone briefly mention pervert giyuu stealing panties and just ran with the idea. give me more closetedpervert!giyuu pls, completely obsessed!giyuu, desperate!giyuu who will take (literally) anything you give him. i love him sm)
(btw im sorry i wrote his so messily)
SANEMI (A SIMP) UNAPOLOGETICALLY SO, HE’D BE LIKE ‘SAY SOMETHIN I DARE U’
Sanemi knows he comes off as unhinged sometimes, it’s on purpose, an act (MOSTLY) to keep people from getting close to him.
So when he realizes he has a crush on you, he doesn’t want to acknowledge it at first, refuses to. He can’t and he won't. It's stupid, reckless and selfish and he knows it’s just going to end in heartbreak. And that’s something he doesn’t want to live through again.
It’s fairly easy to ignore you. There isn't much reason for you guys to run into each other, like none…he is not close to anyone you know.
Even if he was, he throws himself in mission after mission, so he doesn’t really get much rest time to hang out with anyone. The man doesn’t even hang out with his brother. The closest person he has to a friend is Obanai and that’s because of their shared hatred for Giyuu.
So the idea of even developing a crush is ridiculous and childish to him. But he’s noticed you. And now that he has, he can’t stop. You and your sparkly eyes, bouncy hair and time-freezing smile. All in passing of course, he'd never actually go up to you and you've never made any effort in talking to him. You’ve never noticed or paid him any mind until you had to.
Sent on a mission to assist the Wind Hashira, order delivered by your crow, since you were the closest demon slayer in the vicinity to him. The universe was on his side that day, but also fuck you universe cause why tf would you do this to him.
His mission would require a female to go undercover, but he knew of no one who could help, and anyone who could (Shinobu or Mitsuri) couldn’t. Until you showed up, like a saving grace, an angel. Eyes too sparkly and wide, hair framing your face too perfectly - did you cut it? - and that sickeningly sweet smile of yours that caused all of these unwanted feelings to bubble up in his guts, all directed to him this time. Who sent you? Where was your crow? He would make sure your crow could never give you another order.. Ever again.
And boy did you help him. You went into this mission and kicked. ass. It was great- he never knew you could fight so well- sweaty and disheveled but nowhere near battered (he took the stronger attacks to spare you, a junior, he was a Hashira after all… they had the duty to protect the subordinates… right? Oh whatever-). And not once did you stop looking so flawless.
As you both headed towards the closest Wisteria House (he needed proper rest after having taken on non-stop missions for a few weeks straight. And you had a sprained ankle he insisted you’d get checked.) He couldn’t help the burn of his ears as he heard you talk. Your voice was much prettier than he expected. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Of course it fucking was.
He couldn't stop his glances over at your form, you were breathtaking, captivating in the sun rise. He wanted nothing more than to sprint out of there and get away from you and his stupid feelings as fast as possible, but every wince and grimace as you stepped caused his own to falter. Fingers itching with the need to reach out to you, words choked in his throat as he tried (poorly) to stop himself from offering to carry you all the way back.
Next thing he knew, he was dropping you off in front of the all too familiar doors of the Wisteria House, gently moving you off his back, even though you reassured him multiple times that you were fine and he didn’t need to go through all the trouble. The blush on his face never settled down.
You both grew close to one another during your stay at the Wisteria House, your room was located down the hall from his, but every morning he waited by your door, ready for the routine morning walk you would take. You helped train with him as he recovered, every meal was eaten together, you'd gotten closer to Sanemi in those days than anyone had been able to in years.
He blinked. (More like time skipped, courtesy of me 😀) And somehow he was courting you. Yes. You heard that right, courting. You were a catch and he would never let that up. Especially when you were reciprocating his attention. He was a bug eyed, crazy motherfucker and you- you were perfect. He was crazy, not stupid!
He treats you like royalty. Offering to do just about anything for you, buying and getting you anything you liked, even if you never asked him to out loud, he's hyper aware of you and your surroundings. He’d notice if your eyes lingered on an item a few seconds too long. Next thing you knew, he’d be presenting it to you proudly, a satisfied smirk on his face as your eyes lit up.
He’s a proud man.
You’re his pride. Having a doll such as yourself on his arm, his ego shoots through the roof and he’s unashamed about it. He wants EVERYONE to know you’re his. And he’s yours. Mind, body and soul. And he’d protect you from anything and anyone.
Tired? Don't exert yourself anymore and let him carry you. Sleepy? Just rest your pretty head on his shoulder and rest your eyes. Hungry? Should he cook for you or do you want him to go get something to eat. He’s even more protective when you have to go on missions. Most of which he isn’t allowed to join because he wouldn’t let you do anything if he did.
Sanemi knows that the future isn't promised so long you both remain in your line of work, so he lives his life with you with no regrets, he's going to do everything he can for you.
With how unashamed he is he doesn’t care who sees him spoil you. No one is going to get in his way and stop him. No one is going to mention it or else he’d see to it that they’re never able to say another word again (and never be able to enjoy solid food ever again either).
You’re his baby doll, his princess, and he’s not ashamed to show the world, why should he be?
(sanemi you fucking simp ily)
KYOJURO (TICKLISH) HIS BOOMING ASS LAUGH JUST MAKES IT FUNNIER
HE IS NOT DEAD. RENGOKU WILL LIVE ON FOREVER.
He knows he likes you after taking a very serious moment to assess his feelings. He naturally runs hot, but he feels extra warm and uncharacteristically clammy whenever you’re around. It flusters him to no end. He’s not so bold around you (at least he tries not to be) since you seem to flinch and giggle every time he speaks which only causes his blush to spread like wildfire.
His stare is uncomfortably ardent. He doesn’t mean to, really, in his defense he's not completely aware of how it looks. But you captivate him in a way no one has ever before. (Another inexperienced bean.) And he finds it really difficult to keep his eyes off you. He's completely awed by your swordsmanship and beauty.
In other words, he’s a little off putting at first, especially with his mannerisms. Like his inability to use an inside voice even when eating, his hair that you swear he dye's on the regular and his two toned eyes, whether he’s staring off into the distance or straight into your soul, overall he’s a bit odd and intense.
But after you have a conversation to get to know each other, you find yourself endeared by him and all false assumptions you had of him before cease to exist. Being near him was like being comforted by the warmth of a fire after being out in the cold all day. A smile so bright and dazzling, you wanted to be bathed in it constantly.
And a beautiful friendship blooms after that. A friendship you both cherish and nurture, both eager to close that chapter called 'friendship' and move onto the next. But you’re hesitant because how could Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, ever pursue any other passion aside from his work? And Kyojuro just has no idea how to break it to you, what if you didn’t like him that way? What if he was too much? He knew he could be sometimes and he doesn't expect you to willingly want to put up with it. You had blessed him with a friendship nonetheless, and that was something he would forever cherish.
Kyojuro fairly quickly becomes your best friend, and it's true that he's gotten unbelievably close to you because of his feelings for you but that is not the only reason. Kyojuro admires you for the demon slayer that you are and the person underneath the title. And even if he can't have you the way he wants, he will be by your side, supporting you in all the ways that he can.
So it’s just like any other day as he heads over to your estate, but this time he walks with a much wider stride, his chest puffed out a little more than usual and an unmistakable glint to his eyes. A confident look, one of absolute, like he knows that by the end of it he’s going to have the privilege of calling you his.
And then he gets there… and just… can’t. He can’t bring himself to say anything in that regard. To confess how his heart yearns for you.
So he’s listening to you ramble about the latest mission you were on, busying yourself (and him) in the kitchen and he just kinda waits for the opportune moment.
He ends up giving himself excuses as to why it’s not the right time, but to be honest he’s just scared of rejection, he’s never confessed to anyone before. And it’s nerve wracking.
Until night falls.
And both of you are sitting in your living space, empty bottles of well aged sake he had brought from his home, laid strewn across the floor and both of you had been reduced to a pile of giggling, bumbling red-face messes. He had relaid to you a joke Tengen had told him, well tried to at least but he had completely butchered it in his drunken state which only caused you to laugh harder as you witnessed his buffering.
“I-... wait! How did it go… Oh! No wait- that's not right- stop laughing! Y/N! Give me a second to recall-!”
He said all this in between his laughing and blubbering, constantly squirming as he couldn’t stay in one place, beside you, whose head was spinning in light headedness as the drinks were catching up, hard. In your hysteric, you leaned over to slap him in the shoulder but missed it completely which caused your hand to brush down against the side of his stomach a bit harshly.
It caught him completely off guard. The action sent a jolt through his body, jumping far away from your touch staring at you with wide, terrified eyes. You quirked an eyebrow at his reaction, the light bulb seemed to go off in your head, as he watched worriedly as your eyes lit up and an evil grin pulled across your face.
He should have seen it coming. He was a Hashira after all. He should have been able to dodge such an uncoordinated lunge but he was matching you in the inebriated department since he didn’t drink often, well, at all really. And you guys just downed two bottles. Next thing he knew he was thrown to ground with you playfully straddling his thighs, unable to contain the boisterous laughter that tore through him at your merciless fingers.
He doesn't recall the last time he’s let go like this. If ever. Or the last time he laughed this hard. He can’t and he doesn’t want to, since this moment, he was experiencing it with you and he was going to relish in it. Even if he wanted to squirm out of your ministrations, even as tears sprung into both your eyes from how hard you had been laughing. Even if it was getting painful.
“Stop! Please!” he laughed, a loud boyish laugh tearing through him, his voice turning high pitched. It causes your heart to swell. You hop off him, ending your torture, curling into yourself in pain as you tried controlling your laughter, maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt so high in happiness. His laugh boomed throughout your house and you seared this moment into your brain, practically engraving it into your memories.
“Shut up!” you cried in happy tears, “I’m gonna pee!” This caused more illogical laughter to go on for a few more minutes. By the end of it, you both were left panting and hiccuping, wiping the tears that streamed from your faces. Basking in the moment.
Something overcame him and he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, this was it, this was his chance, so turning to you, the look in his eyes so raw and vulnerable, but with a fire burning behind them as he said, “I love you.” You smiled gratefully, eyes crinkling so much it nearly obscured your vision, “I love you too Kyojuro.”
(my sweet baby angel, i love him so much, the loml <3, he deserves nothing but good things, i will never forgive you akaza.)
GYOMEI HIMEJIMA (A SOFT DOM) WITH AN UNDENIABLE SIZE KINK
There’s really no other way around it.
Gyomei knows he looks intimidating to a degree. His stature alone has people unwilling to approach him, the whites of his eyes often have people feeling a bit uncomfortable, and the fact that he’s so emotional throws people for a spin. Have you seen the weapon he wields? Yeah, most people second guess even looking at him.
But how can they not? He’s big. His simple presence demands attention. Gyomei is a dom without a doubt, not only is he the oldest of the Hashira, he’s the biggest and the strongest, and it's one of things that first caught your attention about him. Because not only is his personality nurturing, that man could protect you without breaking a sweat and that is so ridiculously attractive.
You love his size. It’s impossible not to when he lifts you up so effortlessly with one arm, the way his large hand cradles your face so gently, his build practically shields you away from the world as you walk side by side. Your small hand gripping his finger tightly, too small to actually hold hands with him comfortably.
But it took you guys some time to get to this point, where he is no longer self conscious about his size -a small insecurity he developed after getting with you- where it no longer eats away at him whenever he tries to do anything with you. Gyomei never really thought of finding love, it was never something he saw in his future so he didn’t think much of his size, until he met you.
Both you and Gyomei have a size kink. Yours has always been present but Gyomei's was one he developed after getting past the fear of hurting you. I mean, he's always going to be bigger than any other human and with his lack of romance, he's never really thought about it any other way besides gaining strength. But with you, Gyomei can appreciate his body even more, because not only can he save others with his superior strength, now he has the honor of protecting you and pleasing you.
You love how massive he is and how gently he treats you. Gyomei could, quite literally, tear you in half and rearrange your guts, but he doesn't and the thrill alone is enough to get your body ready enough to take him. He of course ignores your pleading, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you until he deems you ready enough.
By that time you’re completely boneless, unable to think of anything else besides Gyomei. Consumed by thoughts of Gyomei. He’s everywhere. His towering frame above you, his large hands covering your body, his lips engulfing your own. His smell is everywhere, covering your senses. He’s everywhere. And yet you can’t get enough.
He loves how needy you get, he loves fucking you dumb to put it simply. He loves that he’s absolutely ruined you for anyone else (not that you would ever even imagine being with anyone else). The size of his finger inside you reaches a spot that even your largest partner before him could never reach. HIS FINGER. When you told him this he felt a primal satisfaction he had never felt before.
He loves how small you are. Doesn’t matter what size you are, you will always be small compared to him. He loves how soft you are, how squishy and plump. Gyomei is definitely into body worship, he's the type to view the body as a temple and the fact that you're sharing it with him??? He's weak in the knees. He can't see but he doesn't have to, to know that you're absolutely gorgeous.
He loves how he’s too big for him to fit in your mouth but goddamn do you try. You try your hardest for him. Until there’s tears streaming down your face in frustration, he only knows because he can hear your sniffling, he’ll put out of your mouth gently with a “What’s wrong baby?” And you’d whine at him, voice hoarse as you tell him “Just wanna please you.” It would swell his heart to hear. You’re so cute. Tears would well up in his eyes undoubtedly.
He’d have you trembling with his finger alone, by the time he actually gets to slide into your warm, juicy walls, you’d be shuddering and gasping underneath him. Gripping onto his arms tightly as you’d be reduced to nothing but tears and incoherent sentences at the over stimulation. Something neither one of you will ever get used to. You're sure you'd be drooling as well but thanks to whatever shred of rational thought you have, you save yourself the embarrassment from doing it.
“One… two…” He’d count out loud with each push of his hips, counting down the number of inches you’d take before tapping out. Sometimes you can take his full size, on those days, Gyomei has to restrain himself so much he’s literally shaking above you as he tries not to pound into you relentlessly, dreaming of using you as a cock-sleeve.
He can feel the bulge as he settles inside you, a large hand traveling from your hip to your soft tummy. He’s groaning at the touch, biting his lips harshly to stop himself from spilling filthy praises, unable to believe you can take him.
Instead he opts to roll his hips deeper into you, hardly pulling out, as he can feel a particularly hard part inside you that lets him know he’s reached your limit. He presses himself deeper into your womb, your walls constricting and fluttering around him endlessly, your body stuck between trying to push him out and suck him back in, all too much for Gyomei who unloads inside you with something short of a roar. You'd cry out, following soon after him, as you feel his seed deep inside you, warm and gushing, leaving you feeling absolutely swollen and satisfied.
He’ll get off you and take a moment to just sit and bask in the ambiance, admiring his work. Both of you are drenched in a combination of juices (he could feel how drenched he is, you're no better, he can only imagine), he could hear you both panting and breathing heavily, both have tears of pleasure streaming down your faces. He loves it. He can’t get enough of it. Which is a bit of a problem because his stamina is insane and he could do it all over again.. it's a good thing you enjoy the challenge. And it's even better that he's so merciful, he knows your limits and will never push you past them without your permission.
He loves cradling you afterwards, you’re unable to move much without whining tiredly. Your shared bed is on the floor, even if you wanted something more western style, there’s no bed frame that could accommodate to the weight and height of Gyomei. He would pull you onto his chest, nestling you safely into his arms. Whispering and murmuring heart warming praises to one another, he silently prays for your relationship and for your safety before he falls asleep.
(i love this big teddy bear, he needs more love!)
I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE GIFS OR CHARACTERS
I hope you guys enjoyed reading this :D Please do let me know if I should make these longer or shorter. I am open to suggestions and feedback (as long as you're nice, I got a tender heart pls be nice to me).
That's it cuties, I hope I was able to make some of your hearts flutter and add a bit more to yours guys spank-bank collection lol.
If you wanna send any requests please make sure they adhere to these rules, these are the fandom's I write for as well, don't be shy!
/) /) ( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ) / づ づ ~ ♡
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#giyuu tomioka#rengoku kyojuro#sanemi shinazugawa#gyomei himejima#giyuu x reader#giyuu smut#kyojuro x reader#sanemi x reader#gyomei x reader#gyomei smut#tabbyxcatt#kny kyojuro#kny rengoku#kny giyuu#kny sanemi#kny gyomei#kny
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