#but its all for the sake of character POV
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prettyflyshyguy · 7 months ago
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It's wip wednesday motherfuckers and its 3am so you know what that means, here's an unhinged writing excerpt that's barely edited (WOOHOO WE MADE PROGRESS TONIGHT)
“Hey, hey look at me.” Dean’s vision was hazy, but he could see the stranger was tied up the same as he was. Sitting a few feet away in a wooden chair, his mouth was taped over, otherwise he seemed unharmed. His head jerked up at the sound of his voice, he tried to speak but only a muffled cry escaped the tape clamping his mouth shut. “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. Everything’s gonna be ok, help is on its way, I’m gonna get you out–”
“Oh I’m counting on it!”
The stranger whimpered and frantically looked around for the source of the voice that echoed through the room, glancing back at Dean with a harrowing look in his eyes. He rattled the chair he was tied to, the wood scraping on the old floor making a noise that pierced the emptiness of the space. Dean grunted as he felt the sound scrape the inside of his brain, pain throbbing in his temples like a hangover on crack. Great, I’ve been drugged. Despite the discomfort he tried to focus his senses, he could hear the racing heartbeat of the tied up man, but not much else. 
The source of the voice sauntered into the room from a shadowed doorway, her boots crunching on the broken glass and rubble on the floor. The tied up man’s breathing became sharp and shallow, and his heart rate spiked as he watched her pace around the pair slowly. Dean watched her also, noting her attire resembled the crowd from The Black Rose. A tacky leather skirt and jacket combination, dull and dark colours. Her hair was short, one side tucked behind her ear while the other half shadowed one side of her face. She had dyed it black, he could see light organge regrowth peeking in at the roots. She had a gentle face, with a warm smile that contrasted with the black lipstick and panda-like eyeliner that seemed to be the trend as of late. Dusted with freckles, she had a youthfulness about her, but he guessed she was somewhere between the ages of twenty five to thirty five, as the lines that crinkled by her eyes and mouth when she smiled gave him an indication. He considered he might have thought her to be attractive if she was wearing a more palatable getup, though all the people that frequented that bar confounded him. He watched her carefully as she stood behind the man, gripping the back of the chair he was bound two with both hands and settling in a gentle lean hovering over him as he bowed his head in silence. Dean noted that he still only heard one heartbeat in the room.
“The hell’d you do to me?” 
“Just a little dead man’s blood. It’ll wear off soon.” she smiled at him. He examined her face. It was the kind of smile he’d practiced in the mirror. An attempt at faking genuinity. The kind you make when you want something from someone. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, he thought. 
“Oh c’mon you think you hunters are the only ones who are in the know-how?” 
He glared at her in silence, staring up from under his furrowed brow. “Oh don’t be like that, I just want to talk.” she continued to smile. Dean returned the gesture, not attempting to hide that his was fake.
“Ok, sure, let's talk.” He looked down to the stranger sitting under her. He was shivering slightly. “Why’s he all taped up then, huh?”
“He’s not who I wanted to talk to.” the man jerked in his seat, crying out. He sobbed slightly as the woman placed a hand on one shoulder, gripping him tightly. “I just need Max here to prove a point, that’s all.”
“If you so much as scratch him I will kill you.” Dean hissed. 
She laughed. “God, you know I was told you hunters were all the same. And to think, people say we’re the ones who are all alike. I mean seriously. If I wanted him dead, don’t you think he’d be dead by now?” She removed her hand and the man breathed out, slowly looking up at Dean, his eyes pleading for help. Dean flexed the restraints holding his arms to the chair. The rope dug into his wrists and it scratched his skin as he pulled and tugged in protest. The woman smiled wider. 
“I saw what you did to the fridge. Damn waste of good blood.” She walked out of the room, returning a moment later dragging another chair in one hand, and holding a blood bag in the other. She placed the chair next to Dean and Max, settling herself a few feet away from both in a triangular formation. “Especially for someone so hungry.”
She pulled the cap off of the bag, and with unwavering eye contact she stared at Dean as she leant down to take a deep sip. Max whimpered softly as he watched her, too horrified to notice the way Dean stared at the bag. 
She paused for a moment after drinking, savoring the moment before addressing Dean once more, “You are hungry, aren’t you, Mister Winchester?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, “Please, Mister Winchester was my father. Call me Abraham.” his eyes flicked between her face and the blood bag. She watched him with that soft look in her eyes, observing him as he tugged at the rope and shuffled restlessly in his chair. 
“Ooo, I don’t know about that.” she said after a moment. “You seem more like an Edward Dalton type.”
Tilting her head back, she took a deeper drink from the bag. This time, Max watched Dean instead, eyes growing wide as he saw his mouth ajar, eyes fixated on the bag, his body lean forward slightly pulling at the ropes holding him back, as if he was entranced by the sight of the woman partaking in such a disgusting act, or worse, he longed to be in her place. Max sobbed again, and violently shook the seat, the rope cutting his skin as he was tied much tighter to his chair than Dean was.
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lucienne-thee-librarian · 6 months ago
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Just to minimize my chances of being genuinely misunderstood OR deliberately misinterpreted, and crucified for something I don't think, How Dare You Say We Piss on the Poor website etc...I'm gonna say this right up top. I absolutely understand why people don't like Thessaly as a character, if anyone does completely unironically stan her as some kind of feminist hero who Did Nothing Wrong uwu, I personally see it as a bit of a red flag. I don't like terfs real or fictional. In a vacuum, I could even completely sympathize and agree with the people who want her cut.
HOWEVER.
It's really something to me to see people clamoring for her to be cut, because she carries and expressed an ugly indefensible prejudice (transphobia) in words towards (1) person. Meanwhile Hob fucking Gadling enacted one of the most violent forms of antiblack racism I can even think of against thousands no, millions of people, the ripple effects of which still affect billions more today. Just a little light idk, profiting off the fucking slave trade and had to be told by someone else that it was bad...and he's a fan favorite.
People are saying Thessally being Dream's love interest reflects badly on him or is somehow endorsement by the narrative (?!?!?!?!?!? Didn't she (SPOILER ALERT AS IF IT MATTERS BY NOW) help participate in his extended assisted suicide? She's not painted as a great person to me just another character what are y'all SMOKING whatever fine. It's fine this is fine.) But shipping Dream with Mr. Former Slaver is not only not verboten or frowned on widely in the fandom but its THEE most popular pairing by far. So...why the difference?
Like where are the same fans who are saying Thessaly shouldn't just be more clearly shown to be wrong, she shouldn't even be in the show at all when it comes to Hobert's crimes??? Yes, transphobia is indefensible. Isn't racism?
And I hear the cries of "it's fiction!!!" Already rallying (if anyone who needs to hear this even sees it lol) to which I say:
HORSESHIT. I KNOW you don't, deep down, really agree because if you did, why get upset about Thessaly being included??? Why does what she said to one person matter if it's Just Fiction You Guyze. Fictional characters are allowed to do bad things and fiction isn't reality sweaty....except when you only apply that standard to fictional racists you like and simp for, but fictional transphobes you don't are SO HARMFUL they shouldn't even be portrayed in fiction.
Like. Give me a big fat BREAK. This looks like bullshit, no? I'm sorry, but I'd love for someone to try and give any other explanation besides one personally offended you or hit home for you, and the other doesn't.
And if that bothers you or you feel like it says something negative about you...idk what you want me to say??? You can't control how other people perceive you and that's how people outside this majority-of-the-fandom bubble see it. You don't need to respond, I just wish and genuinely hope this gives you a moment to think about why fans who ARE bothered by both (and not just paying lip service to being bothered by the one but railing against the other) are so frustrated with people saying everyone is welcome but in practice only bending over backwards for the comfort and emotions of themselves, and people they can easily relate to.
You don't have to like Thessaly (I don't. I find her an interesting antagonist, I don't stan her. And frankly imo likability is not. the point of her character) but you'll pardon me for feeling more than a bit cynical and side eying people's motivations for what seems a...pretty obvious double standard, on what fictional crimes related to real world issues matter to y'all, and which clearly don't. Either actually bring the same energy to the table for fictional people who committed atrocities, even if against a group you're not part of and thus don't feel the need to empathize with, or just carry on, but accept that you don't have the SLIGHTEST room to talk about cutting characters who do immoral things. And you also need to accept that you look like a hypocrite when you do.
#thessaly#wanda the sandman#hob gadling#fandom racism#I could've cried sexism!!! Problematic Male vs Female Characters except 1) I don't actually think that's the main reason *here*#2) there are WAY better examples of that particular double standard in this fandom#also i can admit when I'm a bit of a hypocrite or was.#i used to dip my toes into the dreamling stuff too early on#but idk. It just got too sour seeing ppl whitewash (lol I know I'm a comedian)#what he did over and over. And I genuinely had started to wonder#if the show hadn't included that particular crime and I'd just imagined it from the comics because#my memory is shit sometimes and I guess I was naive. I *wanted* to believe someone would talk aboutit#if it had made it in. but ultimately i went back and checked and no#and seeing how the whole fandom behaving affected my non-white mutuals some of whom...#like these are my friends man or ppl I just respect and I can't just. Ignore their feelings and their pov#and act like they werent making points or it doesn't matter#like it's all just fun and games for everyone on the same terms. And seeing how easy it was#for everyone to ignore was so unsettling. I couldn't keep pretending it was just fiction and didn't affect anyone real#Call me a bully a t3rf apologist (fuck you and for the record. no)#a puritan or a Fancop (actually stop comparing#people disagreeing with you online to what cops do. For fucks sake you just make it look like nothing is really real to you outside fandom)#whatever man. Whatever helps you sleep. I'm just gonna block you#if you're clearly sticking your fingers in your ears. engaging with you is a waste of time and energy then#Hell I have sympathy for anyone who doesn't like thessaly#especially trans fans. Especially rn. But lbr that sympathy for a lot of the white trans/queer fans only goes one way!!!#never gets extended to anyone else's issues. Like THATSthe issue. And it's shitty!#(sorry this post is not about me in the confessional lol that's why I put this at the bottom#I just had feelings to get out and yes its my blog but i didn't want to clog the airways)
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aroacettorney · 6 months ago
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tbh i feel like ludger should have committed more nuanced but inexcusable atrocities unknown to people on the level of light yagami for this narrative / aup ending to work because otherwise it doesnt make any damn sense.
ludger during the international trial: i hereby plead guilty to identity impersonation, large-scale thievery, mass murders, torturing, and destruction of the holy bretus kingdom as the demon king. due to the magnitude of my crimes, i believe i deserve a death sentence.
jury group #1, elisa & wolford, who knew his identity was sus since ages ago and even helped him keep it hidden: ......
jury group #2, eileen & facius, who very definitely have often committed political assassinations in the shadow: ......
jury group #3, marias & mi6, whose job is literally torturing people for intel: ......
jury group #4, all knight captains of the exilion kingdom, who are known for mercilessly and indiscriminately eliminating every threat against the exilion royalty: ......
jury group #5, everyone who attended the holy war, voluntarily or involuntarily, and even lent a hand in killing the holy emperor themselves: ......
#aup#rambles#but also borderlining#rant#i think ludger was supposed to be a redeemed anti villain protag#but he ended up being too close to tragic hero as sayren overjustified his flaws and backstories#so he became half this and half that. what a mess#bro has shown sympathy / mercy for those who r much worse than him but repented#like sure his self hate might be stronger but considering all the ppl he had in his life#it almost seems like he takes them for granted#what did he think most of his allies risked their lives and fought with him in the holy war for?#their own freedom? destruction of bretus? nah not really#they blindly trusted his cause and fought so he could live but ofco bro knew that and rushed to his death anyway#its a miracle that no one on his side died in this war and they could have died for almost nothing#ludger has already acknowledged since long ago that his allies accepted him for whoever he was#so by condemning himself he was also condemning his most trusted allies as they have worked closely w him & v likely done some similar shit#in his name and for his sake no less#unless he has done something much worse that no one knew anything about; in readers pov his suicidal tendencies r more frustrating than sad#also leaving his own life in lynnes hands as his act of submitting himself to justice is so funny cuz girl aint a fair or impartial judge#yall r as close as siblings. this trial is fuckin rigged and meaningless#''its actually so that the readers know how much ludger was cherished by his friends'' didnt we already know that after the last 700 eps???#and if ludger actually had any respect for justice he shouldve worked to surrender himself in the international court#ie confessing his guilt & accepting judgment from the qualified jury etc#instead what we have is him running away from everything again#what his best character development could have been is that he finally stops doing and deciding everything on his on terms ngl#anyway im just lowkey pissed that ludger clearly doesnt trust or care for his allies as much as they trust or care for him#''please pass my regards to everyone else'' you get your ass back here immediately and do that yourself ludger cherish#you at least owe them that much#all of them deserve so much better tbh#fuck it became a full on rant now lmfao
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oooocleo · 5 months ago
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theres a couple of books missing from here bc they didnt tile nicely but kicks my legs... reading log so far from the first half of 2024 🫡
i wanted to share my favourites out of the above as well:
carmilla by sheridan le fanu (the og vampire novella, somewhat archaic writing style but Way more lesbian than i was expecting, v evocative of those insane girlhood friendships one has growing up afab)
the goblin emperor by katherine addison (maia… the ultimate good boy truly trying his best to be a good ruler - i felt alternatively so bad for him and rly proud of the sentiment of kindness he embodied + gorg descriptions of the goblin/elf cultures)
empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo (novella; gorgeous poetic writing, like catching glimpses of an epic fantasy story but being Allowed to fill in a ton of it yourself.. rly tactile…also WAMEN and a sprinkle of lesbianism 🤌)
white is for witching by helen oyeyemi (magical realism prose which powerfully serves the unreliable narrator/psychological issues the protagonist has/seems to have + haunted house horror where the house is also in the characters after they leave.. i rly want to reread it already)
the dispossessed by ursula k le guin (anarchist socialist anticapitalist anti-prison anti-police theory beamed straight into my brain. made me want to move to the moon. actually nuanced in its depiction of issues in supposedly utopian societies)
annihilation by jeff vandermeer (delicious bio-horror.. weirdness abounds… really vivid pov/protagonist in the autistic broad shouldered biologist, imo very well crafted mystery but dont go in expecting to have all the answers at the end, thats Not The Point tm)
blood over bright haven by ML wang (sciona.... ur THE power hungry maniac academic ive been waiting for... this is a visceral fantasy that quite skillfully deals w gender & ethnic oppression w.o cheapening those issues for the (lowkey) romance's sake, a common gripe for me)
bride by ali hazelwood (just a freaking good time if uve been traumatized by abusive male leads ur supposed to like.. werewolf x vampire contemporary romance)
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staryuee · 5 months ago
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“HEY, CAN I SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST?”
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꒰warnings꒱ implied AMAB/AFAB, somewhat gender neutral terms but written w/ gay dynamics in mind, suggestive
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . kaeya, itto, alhaitham, wriothesley ⚣ yelan, yae miko, clorinde, arlecchino ⚢
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . meant for the gays and lesbians respectively! male characters are written in a gay POV, women are written with lesbian POV — my little gift for pride month ♡ shoutout to all my male readers i’m sorry there’s content drought for you i hope i sufficed even if just slightly 😓
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A. KAEYA — 凯亚
resident boob window man.™
kaeya can’t help but relish in the eyes of people who pass him by to just simply ogle at his chest area; because let’s be honest, no body is looking at that red shirt of his. so when he heard the phrase, “can i sleep on your chest” escape from his boyfriend’s lips, it didn’t come as shock or surprise but more so a warranted compliment.
who was he to deny you? if he allows dozens to have a subtle peek at his gorgeous, tanned skin, why would he not give you a privilege that was beyond that. “how about sleeping on my bare chest? after all, isn’t heat better shared when directly skin to skin?” of course, such alluring words were written using the truth for the sake of obscenities.
and yet, when you finally burrow your face into his chest, arms snuggled safely around his waist as you hummed softly, kaeya was sure his heart would leap out of its ribcage. god, he was so lucky no one was here to embarrass him further because the image of the ever elusive, mysterious and slightly flirtatious calvary captain turning into a silly puddle at just the littlest bit of affection would be etched into history’s memory to make use of as blackmail material.
“your heartbeat is really loud,” you teased, a subtle smirk tilting your mouth as you felt his breath hitch at your sudden call out. he was hoping you couldn’t hear that incessant hammering, but since you’re so close, he might as well let you savour that sound for a little longer while he’s all yours.
A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗
“itto!”
“[name]!”
“can i sleep on your chest?”
pausing the excited chant and the slight ritual between you two to randomly call out each others names, itto stumbles and stutters in embarrassment, “i—! well, uhm, yeah! sure, hell yeah! ‘course you’d wanna, after all y’know we’re dudebros uhm, boyfriends, yeah!” it would be cuter if he did less dignity saving and a little more holding but nonetheless, this is what you signed up for when asking this tall hunk of mess to go out with you.
fortunately, neither of you would have it any other way.
getting fully comfortable in bed, it’s like you sink into itto perfectly, your body falling limp and heavy as your head cradles itself between his tattooed chest. if you didn’t feel so absolutely drowsy from the amount of heat exuding from his body, you were certain your hands may have wandered to squish them for the fun of it. yet, you refrained.
not like itto would’ve noticed such wanderings regardless, he was too busy fighting hyperventilation and this nagging cuteness aggression that threatened to manifest itself in him squeezing you painfully within the grip he had on your smaller frame.
WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利
“wrio…” you whine, face nuzzling into the nape of his neck and arms sliding along his waist to pull him flush against you.
“what is it, mon beau?” he can’t help but chuckle at the way your hands sneakily traveled along his abdomen and up to cup his chest, squeezing occasionally per routine after wriothesley came out the shower all wet and enticing, those droplets dribbling down his abs just simply begging to be swiped clean (either by your tongue or a towel, but both of you knew which one wriothesley would prefer).
“can i sleep on your chest, please? had a shitty day.”
wriothesley smiles smugly, the question rather warranted given how touchy you were being with him. “you’ve been getting all demanding lately, you know that?” settling himself within the covers of your shared abode, wriothesley promptly propped his head up atop fluffed up pillows before tapping on his chest. “come here.”
watching as you immediately snuggled yourself within his tender embrace, face nuzzled between his tits as if they were gold itself, wriothesley latched onto you with an affectionate stare, hands rubbing at your back to help soothe you. “my boyfriend’s so clingy these days,” he chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze despite clearly having the strength to grip you tighter.
“should i just connect us with handcuffs at this point?” he suggested, but honestly if you asked, he’d do it without hesitation.
AL HAITHAM — 艾尔海森
“hey, can i sleep on your chest?”
alhaitham promptly shuts his book at your request, eyes gradually meeting yours like some sort of lizard. “but i’m a man.”
“yeah so am i, what’s your point?” your lips puckered into a firm pout, a hand on your hips as if you were absolutely bewildered that he even dared to deny you in such a subtle way despite you asking so nicely instead of snuggling yourself between his manboobs shamelessly.
“my point is,” alhaitham sat up from the couch, those muscular arms that you were certain were littered with your bite marks a few days ago laced over his chest as if to reprimand you for your ignorance, “i’m a man, it wouldn’t be comfortable for you because my breast tissue is smaller than that of a woman.”
“well, can i?” a small stretch of silence ensued for a while before alhaitham gave up trying to reason with you and merely propped up his pillow, rolling his eyes at the way you wasted no time in snuggling yourself against him. face of course nuzzling against his chest restlessly. he might not admit it to you, but you certainly weren’t blind to big boobs when you saw them.
there was a whole curve. you could calculate the circumference of those things if he asked — and honestly? that within itself wouldn’t be beyond him. alhaitham found himself enjoying this more than he thought he would. his hand carded within your messy bed-hair as the other took its time to soothe your back.
if such a dumb request is enough to make you happy, he doesn’t mind fulfilling it.
YELAN — 夜兰
“i’m not used to being caught off guard,” yelan coughs into her hand, what seemed to be both a look of surprise and smugness distorting her usually calm facade.
“would you like to bet on my answer to that question?” she tilted her head to the side to entice you, her finger luring you close with a simple movement you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to almost instantaneously.
“well, can i?” you ask innocently, a bambi look to you that yelan would normally tease, but right now she wanted to devour completely. she grins, pearly whites showing as she pat her lap for you to cradle yourself in.
“i was thinking of taking an afternoon nap anyways, i don’t see any harm in you joining me.” and of course, you wasted absolutely no time in jumping within her embrace, those hands that normally held poker chips and cards or the neck’s of egregious men now holding you with an almost surreal gentleness.
“atta girl.” yelan giggled as you nuzzled yourself snuggly against her chest, those lashes of your fluttering against your cheek as sleep seemingly lulled you in a mere instant. where you keeping awake just for her to hold you? how sweet.
YAE MIKO — 八重神子
“have you been obsessively reading those sapphic novels of yours again, [name]?”
“nuh-uh…”
“don’t lie to me dearest, i can read you with a mere glance.” yae miko flutters some cherry blossoms that clung onto her attire with a mere wash of her hand, prepping herself for the long yet worthwhile cuddle session ahead that she’s grown more than accustomed to each time you presented yourself with your hands clasped behind your back so innocently like that.
“lay down then darling, you have all my attention.” she says after a minute, and of course you obey without any protest. you snuggle yourself into her comforting warmth, her arms immediately enveloping you as you lay down against her. yae miko proceeds to kiss repeatedly all over your head while humming a soft tune that sounded suspiciously familiar to you.
it was the same song that gently breezed in the background of your first kiss during a festival, when the sunset deep the sky in a beautiful array of red and orange hues.
seems like you weren’t the only one to have been obsessively reading sapphic novels lately.
CLORINDE — 克洛琳德
“clorinde…~ can i sleep on you chest please?”
“…don’t you have your own? i don’t quite understand your fascination.”
“i want to be able to hear you heartbeat when i wake up.” ah, well you can’t just say such swoon-worthy words and then expect her to not completely drop everything and coddle you. a blush smothered her cheeks in the most cosiest of hues as she fumbled over in her effort to figure out what reply she could possibly conjure up.
it took a few moments before the words finally reached her lips but the response that fell out was no less eloquent than the one that followed, which was to laugh. “i…why not? just don’t get too attached, i have to leave in the early morning.” with that said she pulled the covers back and slid into the bed next to you, who had taken up residence in the space between the bed’s headboard and the wall, leaving enough room for both of you to comfortably fit.
clorinde wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you flush against her side while she tucked herself under your chin, effectively shielding you from all harm. her breathing evened out gradually until she seemed to have drifted off, lulling you into complete slumber. you were sure you wouldn’t even notice if she hadn't been holding you tight to her chest.
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
“you’ve become bolder, haven’t you my dumb bunny?”
the luxury of comfort was the last thing arlecchino obtained within her livelihood. she didn’t need it, nor did he want to have it. she would be content with living in the forest and sharing it’s abundant wildlife with fellow rabbits or whatever other small animal that came to feed on it. they could do what they wanted and it wouldn't bother that unnerving stoicism of hers.
yet such a simple, minute, even pure, question of yours? it somehow rattled something within her like a predatory snake unleashing it’s coil on its prey in sight for a bigger bite.
“since you’re so desperate for sleep, suppose i’ll have to indulge you.” she sighed heavily despite her tone holding no mingle of exhaustion apart from the permanent eyebags drooping beneath her lids.
like a berry unknowingly rolling into the reclining jaws of a centuries starved bear that’s drooling per conditioning, you comfortably settle right next to her heartbeat, those black nails sending shivers down your spine in electric shocks of warning as she spookily tugs them down your back.
her words always seem so elusive, so teasingly endearing they hardly feel sincere — almost as if sweetened words that spill from her lips come as easily as the breath from her frigid body. one thing that couldn’t lie, most unfortunately to arlecchin’s interest, was her heart.
the way it beat so clearly and loudly against your ear, it was hard not to giggle. of course, the ever perceptive arlecchino mumbled something incoherent about your perceived insolence and shoved your face right between her breasts to stop you from peeking directly into her heart. despite you clearly being in it already.
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©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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bratbby333 · 7 months ago
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your beauty never scared me ˚➶ 。˚ ☁️ suguru geto
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!
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Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…
...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.
It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…
...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.
The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 
She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 
There’s something peaceful about loneliness…
…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 
God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 
Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?
“You just haven’t found the right one!” 
“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”
“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 
Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 
The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…
…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 
Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…
…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 
So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?
Part of you feels guilty…
…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.
A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…
…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.
Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.
Sitting before you is the woman you love…
…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 
But in this moment…
…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 
You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 
Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 
But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?
You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…
…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?
Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 
It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?
You would accept her…
…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.
You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 
.。*゚+.*.。
It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.
.。*゚+.*.。
Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 
Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.
Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 
Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 
Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 
But so what? That's what friends are for. 
.。*゚+.*.。
You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 
Fuck.
It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 
You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 
You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.
Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 
God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 
What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 
Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 
If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 
.。*゚+.*.。
All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 
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You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 
I'm not going through this again. I refuse.
You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.
The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 
Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.
.。*゚+.*.。
It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.
“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 
Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 
After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.
“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.
Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 
Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”
“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 
“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.
You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 
.。*゚+.*.。
You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 
He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.
Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.
He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.
The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.
“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 
Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.
He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 
“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.
“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.
Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.
“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.
He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 
He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”
And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 
Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.
Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 
“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 
He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 
“Me neither.”
In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.
Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
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author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh
my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!
alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼
tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke
likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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581 notes · View notes
ppomumgranatum · 6 months ago
Text
the dance of love's sweet potion.
also available on Ao3
pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
tags: fluff, one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader, jealousy, protective
word count: 5.3k
Warnings: MAJOR HEADCANNON, the books and the potions are all in my head just for the sake of this story, characters are in their 7th year, I finally caved and wrote the cliche protective and jealous seb and i fucking love it
Summary: When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.
Notes: I was craving some fluff, so a fluff was created ❤️
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Revulsaroma is a powerful potion that demands careful handling and discretion. Designed for specific situations where deterring unwanted advances or repelling individuals is necessary, its potency requires utmost caution. Ingredients: • 3 drops of essence of skunk cabbage • 2 crushed doxy wings • 1 teaspoon of powdered Boomslang skin • 4 ounces of extract from a Devil's Snare vine • 1 pinch of powdered Basilisk fang • Hair from the person brewing the potion
You carefully traced your finger along the intricate words laid out in the book you had kept from your parents’ dusty collection on potion making and meticulously followed the instructions. Taking advantage of the quiet after hours, you used the station at potion class to get on with your mission.
You’re not a pro in potion making per se, but the way you precisely measure out ingredients, stirring the potion with such poise, you feel as skilled as Professor Sharp– if he was plagued with a horrible disease of a red-haired boy goes by the name of Leander Prewett. 
For weeks, Leander had been following you around so relentlessly and constantly asking you out. It was cute at first but now it was starting to feel like pure harassment. Despite numerous rejection, it didn't seem like he’s the type of guy who understood the concept of boundaries and your patience was wearing extremely thin. 
You remembered an old potion you once came across when you were younger– Revulsaroma, a repelling potion. You figured it was time to revisit those pages since you’re in a dire need for a solution. 
You stirred the components inside of your cauldron with a pinch of determination, distress, and a lot of rage. The earthy and putrid notes filled the air and it was probably going to stick with you for a while but you surely hoped this was going to be worth it.
When the potion finally came to completion, you carefully transferred it to a pumpkin juice bottle to trick Leander into drinking it.
“Alright, that looks good.” You sighed in relief as you put the bottle down and stared at the securely stored dark liquid with pride, knowing that soon you’d be able to take a break from the unwanted attention. At least for a while just until you could figure out a permanent way to stop him, 
You proceeded to clean up your station and returned some tools that you took from the inventory room, making sure that everything was back in its rightful spot. Because Merlin knew that you couldn’t take another chide from Professor Sharp about the importance of being responsible and organised.
Just when everything was about to be restored to its pristine state, you heard a loud retching coming from the other room. When you rushed outside, you saw your bestfriend, hands desperately grasping the edge of your station, body racked with violent gagging, and breath ragged in a grave attempt to gasp for air.
“Sebastian?” You exclaimed while rushing to his side, “Are you alright?”
“Came to—bleughh—look for you,” Sebastian managed to say in between his guttural heaves.
“What’s wrong?” Your voice trailed off when you saw your pumpkin juice bottle collapsed and empty. Right at that moment, your eyes widened at the realisation that Sebastian just drank your Revulsaroma. “No, no, no. You bloody, bloody idiot!” 
Quickly, you summoned water from an empty jar that you found nearby and gave it to Sebastian who was still fighting the disgusting taste stuck in his throat.
Gulping down the entire water in a matter of milliseconds, Sebastian attempted to catch his breath, “Your pumpkin juice— is expired, by the way.”
“Oh my God, oh my God, Sebastian!” You ran your fingers through your hair in distress. What was already a pretty stressful situation just got a whole lot worse. 
“What?” He was truly not getting your frustration. He gagged once more, recoiling whatever last bit of that disgusting liquid he's tasting.
“That’s not pumpkin juice!” You scowled and gestured abruptly.
“What is it, then? Poison?” Every muscle on his face seemed to tensed up, still.
“Why would you fucking drink that? It was meant for Leander.” You grunted.
His grimace was then taken over by disbelief for a moment, “Gods, killing Leander is a bit extreme, don’t you think? Even for me.”
“No—ugh,” You sighed heavily, feeling totally overwhelmed. Slumping on your station, you rested your head on it "This is bad. It's really bad."
“You're freaking me out. What is it?”
You lifted your head from the table, meeting his concerned gaze with a weary expression.
“It’s a potion called Revulsaroma. It is supposed to repel whoever drinks it.” You admitted.
Sebastian was still focused on getting the foul taste out of his tongue, but his eyes were quickly narrowed in the scrutiny of your last sentence, “And why exactly are you trying to repel Leander?”
Catching Sebastian's look, a twinge of guilt pricked at you. You winced inwardly, realising you'd never really spilled the beans to Sebastian about the whole Leander debacle. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea and thinking that there was anything romantic going on between you and the Gryffindor boy. 
The line on your relationship with Sebastian had always been blurry, if you could be honest. You’re obviously friends—best friends—but at the same time, the chemistry between the two of you would be such a waste to stay as friends.
You’d occasionally exchange innocent flirting, teasing each other and bantering in a way that felt more than platonic. You couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered every time he smiled at you and the way you felt when he complimented you.
Things had been going very well lately, and you'd like to think you had a shot to turn it into something more.
But now, he’s consumed the one thing that was going to seal the chance you have with him. Because whatever feeling he was going to feel, the potion was supposed to make him feel it so strongly. 
The thought of losing Sebastian terrified you.
“That’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.” You diverted the topic and reached out to your book, checking for things to look out for. Your eyes trailed the ink that explains the detail of the potion.
You noticed Sebastian had shifted his weight from the corner of your eye, moving somewhat uncomfortable in his feet.
"But what does that mean for me?" he asked.
You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "According to the potion's effects, you're supposed to start feeling aversions towards me," you explained, gesturing towards the brewing cauldron with a frustrated gesture. "and I have no idea how to reverse it.”
Your voice was heavy with disappointment. The same emotion was written all over Sebastian's face. There was silence as you both processed the fact that there was no quick fix to this mess.
“So, I’m supposed to hate you? Just like that?”
“That’s kind of the whole point of the potion.”
Sebastian's eyes scanned the cluttered laboratory, a look of resignation settling over his features. "Well, this is just great," he muttered under his breath. Sebastian's complexion turned paler, a nauseous expression crossing his features, "I think I'm gonna be sick."
Sebastian stood there, his hand pressed against his stomach, unsure if the wave of nausea washing over him was solely due to the potion's effects or the unsettling thought of hating you.
But then he felt his body teetering on the brink of collapse. You grappled his arm to provide support but his condition worsened in an instant and he started to fall backwards. Using every ounce of your strength, you were struggling to keep him upright because damn this boy was heavy. And when his weight eventually bore you down, you lowered him down gently.
There was no response even after you called out his name and shook his body. His breathing was laboured and you were panicking. You didn’t know the potion would be this strong.
Spotting a group of students who were passing by outside of the classroom, you called out to them for assistance. Sebastian was then taken to the infirmary and was given proper treatment by Nurse Blainey.
You had to awkwardly explain what caused the brunette to lose his consciousness. Given the fact that you were practising and using potions for non-study purposes, disciplinary action was necessary and you were required to attend detention tomorrow.
When you returned to your room that night, all you did was shift around in your bed. Spending the entire night thinking about Sebastian and how he will wake up in the morning hating you.
But for now, all you could do was wait.
 - 
When the sun rose, you were quick to get back on your feet and head towards the infirmary to check on Sebastian before breakfast started. But to your surprise, he was no longer there. Nurse Blainey said he woke up all energetic and there were no signs of any disturbance so she allowed him to get on with school.
You were slightly relieved to know that Sebastian was feeling better. Although the question of his feelings towards you remained unknown.
So you ventured on, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Moving along with a crowd of students who were also making their way to the venue you suddenly bumped into someone.
“Oh, sorry.” You glanced up to see it was no other than Sebastian, “Hey, I was looking for you.”
You’ve caused some traffic considering you abruptly stopped in the middle of a walkaway crowd. Some were bumping into you and muttered under their breaths in annoyance. It was a horrible time to be upsetting people—hungry and grumpy people.
So Sebastian dragged you away from the crowd. You were caught a little bit off guard at the sudden tug on your elbow. Your feet were almost stumbling around trying to catch up to Sebastian’s pace.
“Are you insane?” Was the first thing he said when you found a quiet little corner away from the bustling people.
Your stomach clenched. 
This was it. 
The memories you shared for the past two years dramatically flashed before your eyes— the adventures, the late night studies, the stupid unfunny jokes he made but you laughed at them anyway— fuck. 
This was it.. he hated you.
“Why would you tell Nurse Blainey the truth about everything?” He sounded quite aggravated. Unexpectedly, it was not for the reason you thought it would be— albeit he should be angry towards you for no reason at all considering the potion.
Your mouth gaped open but you were struggling to find the words. 
"You could've just said it was a bad batch for our assignment," He explained. "You didn't have to get detention for it."
“What?” You finally managed to sputter out.
“Blainey said she gave you detention.” He added, “I feel bad.”
You can’t feel bad for someone you hate unless they fall into lava and viciously die or something. Because to feel bad meant having empathy, and to feel empathy meant he cared, which meant he didn’t hate you and the potion never worked.
Right?
“So you don’t hate me?” You asked carefully.
His tensed brows gradually softened as realisation dawned on him. He was so focused on you that he never really thought of what the potion was supposed to make him feel.
“I don’t, actually.” He sounded relieved and as were you upon hearing his confirmation, “I guess the potion never worked after all.”
Relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. Though you started wondering if the potion didn’t work on Sebastian, it might’ve not worked on Leander either. Which meant you were back to square one, trying to figure out how to deal with his annoying arse. 
But it was a problem you didn’t want to think about too much at the moment. You were just glad your friendship with Sebastian remained intact despite the unfortunate mishap.
“So what did Blainey assign you to do?”
“She said Scribner has been fussing over some organising issues.” You grumbled, “She told me to give her some assistance after classes.”
“Yikes.” Sebastian said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” You retorted, “Are you really feeling alright?”
“As normal as I can be.” He smiled reassuringly, “Though, you still haven’t told me why you were trying to repel Leander.”
“He just..” You hesitated for a moment,  annoys me.” 
Technically, you didn’t lie. Leander’s entire antics had been nothing but annoying to you. Sebastian only pursed his lips and nodded. Be that as it may, his eyes were looking at you rather dubiously. But he didn’t pry further.
After breakfast, you had some time to kill before class started. You found yourself seeking solace in the quiet lounge area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. With a book on Revulsaroma in hand, you sought answers in its pages that you might have missed. It explained further about its history and the past research on this potion. As you delved deeper, a particular section caught your eye that described a crucial detail—
The Revulsaroma potion's effectiveness in repelling a drinker is contingent upon the absence of strong positive emotions towards the potion-maker. If the drinker harbours genuine affection for the potion-maker, the potion's repelling properties may be nullified or significantly weakened. This phenomenon is attributed to the potent influence of positive emotions, which can act as a counterforce against the potion's intended repulsion.
Before you could dwell on it further, Leander plopped beside you out of nowhere and casually draped his arm around your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted you with a smile so charming if he wasn’t so pushy about it you could see yourself giving in to his cheesy escapades. You subtly shifted away from the sudden proximity, hoping he would take the hint some time.
“Good morning, Leander.” You replied politely.
He seemed to be undeterred by your subtle attempt because he leaned in closer, “So, I was thinking, with the weather getting nicer and all, let’s take a trip around the highlands.” He sounded so enthusiastic for a suggestion that’s so inappropriate, “We could explore the beautiful scenery. My family has this cosy little cottage just outside of Keenbridge that we can use. What do you think?”
You scrunched up your nose because it sounded bloody ridiculous, “A bit intimate, don’t you think?”
“What’s wrong with a little bit of intimacy?”
“Nothing wrong with it, of course. If you’re a couple.”
“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Leander’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, if anything he sounded even more excited. 
“It’s too much—”
He interrupted you with a tone so persuasive, “Okay fine, how about just a simple Hogsmeade date, then?”
You sighed at his persistence. It’s really getting too much. 
“Leander, it’s really sweet but—”
Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a looming shadow casted over the both of you. Glancing up, you saw Sebastian standing there with an uncharacteristically serious expression.
“I’m going to count to three, Prewett, and you are going to stand up and get your arse the fuck out of here.”  He demanded.
“What are you going to do about it if I don’t?” He was annoyed  by Sebastian's sudden intervention.
The brunette’s gaze was focused on the way Leander had his arms wrapped around your shoulder and the way his hand was caressing your arm at the same time. Then he stared dead into Leander's eyes, “You don’t want to find out.”
Somehow you found yourself caught in the middle of the sudden hostility. 
“Sebastian.” You warned him softly.
“Ignore him.” Leander didn't care for the threat. But Sebastian wasn’t having it and when Leander was ready to ignore him and continue his conversation with you, Sebastian grabbed him by his collar that it forced Leander to stand up, and he dragged the red haired boy away and slammed his back into a nearby pillar.
“I told you to fucking stand up and get out of here.” Sebastian scowled.
“Get your filthy hands off of me.” Leander attempted to shrug off Sebastian’s grip but it only grew tighter.
“Then you better get yours away from her.” His voice was so low and menacing. You had no idea what possessed him, because as aggressive as Sebastian could get he wouldn’t be so quick to resort to anything so recklessly physical unless it’s necessary— at least not anymore.
“Are you both out of your minds?” You stood beside the conflicting boys, “Stop being children or you will get into trouble.” The confrontation was drawing more attention from onlookers, and you could sense the tension rising. 
A crowd started gathering around to see what the fuss was about. Students nearby paused and turned their heads, curious about the commotion. Whispers and side conversations began to buzz through the group as they watched the confrontation unfold.
You felt a bit awkward with the sudden attention. The whole thing was getting more dramatic than you'd anticipated, and you just wanted to find a way to sort it out before it got worse.
“What is your problem, Sallow?” 
“You are the problem, Prewett. Can’t you take the hint?”
“It’s none of your business.” The Gryffindor boy was defensive— as anyone would be if someone just randomly shoved you into the wall and told you what to do. 
“It becomes my business when you decide to harass her.”
“You are making a scene. Stop it.” You warned them, hoping they would steer away from the conflict. But they were still too busy with each other.
“Trying to be a big hero, aren’t you? Protecting her?” Leander was clearly taunting him. Sebastian wouldn’t usually allow himself to be bothered by whatever nonsense Leander would do. But this time was different,  “She doesn’t need you. She can make her own decision.”
“And she did, when she said no.” Sebastian retorted sharply, “So back off.”
“If you are so worried about me taking her out then you should’ve asked her first. Don’t come here and act all heroic because you missed your chance.” Leander fired back, “If you weren’t such a coward—-”
There went the last cell of Sebastian’s brain that allowed him to think rationally when he decided to punch Leander in the face, sending the red-haired boy stumbling and his nose bleeding. 
“Sebastian!” You stepped in between them, trying to push Sebastian back behind the line he just crossed. His eyes were glaring and breaths were rather ragged from the anger, “What the fuck are you doing?”
After being punched unexpectedly, Leander's pride and dignity were hurt. He wouldn't tolerate being attacked without retaliating. He mustered all of his anger and frustration to punch Sebastian with all of his force. 
But before he could, Sebastian struck again, landing a second punch on his face. Leander stumbled backwards again, but this time he was quicker to get back on his feet and lunged forward, swinging his fists wildly. 
Sebastian was able to dodge a few of his blows, but Leander managed to land a couple of powerful punches on Sebastian's cheek. 
Sebastian stepped back, his face red from pain and anger. Now the two of them had no choice but to fight, and you had no choice but to look for some help. Luckily, it wasn’t long for you to reach Professor Hecat, because when you returned to the brawl, Leander was already pinned to the floor with Sebastian on top of him, landing more punches.
Professor Hecat swiftly casted a spell that immediately shoved both of them away from each other. 
The two boys stood there with battered faces and were later sent to the same detention as you.
You had no desire in conversing with idiots, so when the three of you shared the space on one of the library aisle, organising books, you gave all your might to ignore them, especially Sebastian.
You thought he’d left his impetuous behaviour back in the catacombs two years ago, but clearly you were wrong. The way you aggressively shoved books into places allowed Sebastian to notice that you were furious.
“I know you’re angry at me.” He said, breaking the silence.
“Oh really? Didn’t think you’d notice. I was being subtle.” You replied sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what had gotten into me.” His voice was soft but outright, “You know I don't fight muggle-style.”
You remained cold. There was nothing about his apology that made you feel better. So you continued to ignore him and he tried to speak up again.
“Can we talk?” He pleaded but you ignored him. You picked up a stack of books and moved to the next aisle to shelve them in their proper places.
Sebastian followed you behind, not backing down, “I’m really, really, sorry.”
He seemed genuinely apologetic, but you were reluctant to give in. After all, his actions had caused this entire mess and resulted in the two boys getting detention.
You didn’t want to argue with him, but you couldn’t resist making a point.
“Tell that to Leander and his broken nose.”
Sebastian let out a scoff, “I’m not sorry about that.”
“Seriously Sebastian? You hit him first. He just reacted.” You turned to face him this time.
"He was harassing you," Sebastian defended himself, "I had to do something."
"Did you have to punch him in the face? Repeatedly?”
“Why are you defending him?” His tone was rising, "What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let him flirt with you?"
“What is so wrong with that?”
“Because—” Then he stopped himself. Eyes flustered and flicked between yours like he was trying to gather his own thoughts. Then he let out a frustrated sigh,  “Leander is a self-oriented, self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, insufferable jerk.”
You shook your head in disbelief and stared dead at him in the eye, “Well, right now it sounds like you were just describing yourself, Sebastian.”
Before you could say anything else, you left him alone in the aisle and this time he didn’t follow you.
It was Saturday morning, and while you had no classes to attend, you were still stuck with detention for a portion of the day. Not only did this eat into your weekend leisure time, but you also had to spend it without talking to Sebastian.
You sighed as you placed books somewhere in the corner of the library right where they belonged. 
Couldn’t help but think that spending your weekend somewhere in the castle, perhaps the undercroft, reading books and being alone together with Sebastian was where you belonged. 
Time sure felt lonely without his presence.
Then as if he could read your mind from miles away he showed up, “Do you like Leander?”
Shocked and confused by the sudden question you turned to find Sebastian standing at the end of the aisle.
His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a visible reminder of the fight he had gotten into with Leander. A purplish bruise marred his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow was still fresh. Despite his battered appearance, his eyes were focused intently on you, filled with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“What?” You asked.
“I spent the entire night thinking about you. I thought maybe you like Leander, because why did you defend him so much yesterday?” He rambled.
You opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian wasn’t finished.
“But then I thought, if you liked him, why did you want to repel him with the potion?” He continued, “And why did you reject him when he asked you out? Five times, over the past month.”
You opened your mouth again, but this time every single word you have learned seemed to have fallen over your head because not a single thing came to your mind.
There were two things that surprised you.
One, Sebastian spent the entire night thinking about you.
Two, Sebastian knew that Leander had been asking you out.
And your brain did not know which one to stress about first.
“You knew about Leander?” You finally said.
“We share every class everyday. You don’t think I’d notice?” He replied with another question, “He wasn’t subtle about it either. Was I not supposed to know?”
You fell quiet, unsure of what to say next. The more you opened your mouth, the more you found yourself with nothing to say. 
Sebastian waited for your response, but when it did not come, he continued, “Why did you keep rejecting him?”
You shrugged, slightly flustered, “Simply because I don’t want to go out with him.”
“Why did you not tell me about him, then?”
“It wasn’t worth mentioning,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Sebastian stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe your answer.
“It was pointless,” Your tone was rising slightly, “It’s not like I would ever date Leander. I wasn’t even giving him a second thought. So It doesn’t matter.”
Sebastian was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “It matters to me.”
Your pulse raced, and the air suddenly felt tighter.
Sebastian was staring at you, his eyes intent and penetrating. The silence stretched on, and you had to force yourself to look him in the eye
“Everything about you matters to me. You’re my best friend. We’re supposed to share everything, right?” He added, “Isn’t that what best friends do?”
As you stood there, guilt was eating you inside out. Your decision to leave him in the dark unexpectedly hurt him more than you thought. The look in his eyes was so unfamiliar you couldn’t pinpoint his emotion.
He took a step closer.
“Why do you care so much? It’s just Leander.”
“Don’t you get it?” He said softly, “It’s not about Leander. It’s about the fact that he’s been asking you out, flirting with you relentlessly, being so close with you.. in a way that is supposed to be only for me.”
You stood there, stunned. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over you.
Sebastian took another step towards you, his gaze steady and unbreaking, and it was piercing through your soul.
“It’s supposed to be just for me” He repeated the phrase as if he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes was intense, and you could feel how important this was to him.
A moment passed until you realised that you should respond. The longer you stayed silent, the worse it felt. So you spoke up, “Are you jealous?”
“Yes.” He simply replied.
His response set your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat.
“I was supposed to hate you, but instead I woke up that morning in the infirmary and I couldn’t be more sure that I am utterly and completely in love with you.” His voice dropped, “And when I saw you with Leander and hearing all the things that he said, I meant it when I told you I had no idea what had gotten into me but all I knew was every single cell in my body was on fire.”
You thought for sure your heart would explode as all of this sunk in. You had expected anything but a confession. Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you had to concentrate on breathing, or else it felt like you couldn't breathe.
“I spent the entire night thinking about all of the time we've spent.” He added, “I can't stop thinking about the sound of your laughter. The way you'd still genuinely laugh at the most unfunny joke I would tell. Or how your usual bright eyes would fall into a deep immersion when you read. And the way your delicate finger hovers over the edge of a page, turning it over.”
A smile tugged on the corner of Sebastian's lips as he recalled every little detail about you that only he would care about. The beat of your heart went faster with each syllable that came out of his mouth and every nerve in your body was shaking.
“I always wonder how the touch of those fingertips would feel on my skin,” There were so many things he wanted to say to you. Every detail of you that made him so desperately in love, “and how perfect your fingers would be intertwining with mine.”
For a moment, you were one-hundred percent sure this was all a dream. Because everything around you seemed so blurry and all of the sudden everything felt surreal. But when Sebastian took another step closer, and another until he was close enough to grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together, the haze dissipated. The way his touch alerted every single nerve in your body, you knew that this was real— he was real and he was in love with you.
The two of you stood there, inches apart, staring at each other with your emotions overflowing.
“We belong together.” You could see that his intensity and raw emotion was getting the better of him. His words were coming out quick and sudden, “I should’ve asked you out long before Leander did. Just another stupid mistake I made.”
He inched closer and closer until you felt Sebastian's breath on your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation. You took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the moment.
“You could’ve been too late, you know?” You whispered.
“Am I?”
You shook your head and smiled against his lips, “No, you’re not. I’ve been stupidly waiting for you.”
Sebastian's voice was soft and tender as he spoke again, “I’m glad we’re both stupid enough, then. And for many other things that make me glad you're finally mine."
“Even the potion?” You smirked.
“Especially the damn potion.” A smile spread across Sebastian's face.
Your breaths were laced with desire, and your thoughts went to the first kiss between the two of you were going to share. It felt surreal to have arrived at this moment that you had both anticipated for so long.
Your lips were close enough to touch. Your hearts were beating so loudly. And in this moment, it felt like a moment out of time.
When his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away and everything else faded into the background. It was everything it had built up to be—hot and passionate and exciting.
You kissed him deeply and all was right with the world. Sebastian's hands wrapped around your back, and yours around his neck. 
Your senses were all focused on Sebastian, on the kiss and the way he made you feel. This was what you had been waiting for, and it was everything you dreamed of and more.
When you pulled away, your eyes were locked and you found yourselves smiling uncontrollably. There was nothing left to feel awkward or unsure of, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted.
Sebastian brushed his fingers through your hair. You were finally getting your happiness.
"I love you," He whispered against your lips.
“I love you, too.” you replied softly, brushing your noses together.
You spent the rest of the day making out in the deepest corner of the library, neglecting your detention. And when Madam Scribner found the two of you some time later, all dishevelled, you were granted another detention time.
But neither of you cared. Because it was all worth it.
In an extremely rare case, the Revulsaroma potion could have an unprecedented effect, completely opposite to its intended repelling nature. Rather than nullifying or weakening, the potion might paradoxically amplify and reinforce any existing strong positive feelings that the drinker harboured towards the potion-maker. Due to genuine and deep-seated love for the maker, the drinker might experience a surge of intense emotions that can be both overwhelming and consuming, such as, jealousy, protectiveness, and overwhelming affection.
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thevelaryons · 5 months ago
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The thing about pitting Rhaenys (show) and Catelyn (show & book) against each other, in their reactions to their husband’s bastards, is that it completely ignores the context of their situations.
Many men fathered bastards. Catelyn had grown up with that knowledge. It came as no surprise to her, in the first year of her marriage, to learn that Ned had fathered a child on some girl chance met on campaign. He had a man’s needs, after all, and they had spent that year apart, Ned off at war in the south while she remained safe in her father’s castle at Riverrun. Her thoughts were more of Robb, the infant at her breast, than of the husband she scarcely knew. He was welcome to whatever solace he might find between battles. And if his seed quickened, she expected he would see to the child’s needs.
He did more than that. The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him “son” for all the north to see. When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence.
That cut deep. Ned would not speak of the mother, not so much as a word, but a castle has no secrets, and Catelyn heard her maids repeating tales they heard from the lips of her husband’s soldiers.
— A Game of Thrones, Catelyn II
Catelyn understands the social rules of the society she lives. She’s been taught the belief that men having affairs and fathering bastards is normal. But even in such a patriarchal society, there has to be a level of respect afforded to the wives of the men that cheat (especially if they’re noblewomen from powerful families). In Catelyn’s case, she feels slighted because her husband raised his bastard in the same household. It is considered a social insult to Catelyn that her husband did this to her.
She had come to love her husband with all her heart, but she had never found it in her to love Jon. She might have overlooked a dozen bastards for Ned’s sake, so long as they were out of sight. Jon was never out of sight, and as he grew, he looked more like Ned than any of the trueborn sons she bore him. Somehow that made it worse.
— A Game of Thrones, Catelyn II
Obviously it’s not fair to Jon that Catelyn takes out her resentment on him. Though from her POV chapters, it’s shown that she holds no negativity towards Ned’s mystery mistress despite hating Jon. It’s impossible to hate someone you don’t even know. Meanwhile, Jon is a living, breathing reminder of her husband’s infidelity. While it would be a more reasonable reaction for her to dislike Ned rather than misdirect her negative feelings towards Jon, Ned is still her lord husband. It is easier for Catelyn to hate Jon.
When it comes to Rhaenys, her husband’s mistress and bastards are relatively unknown to her, even if she is aware of their existence. They were kept far away from her. So Rhaenys is less likely to resent them. That’s why Rhaenys addresses only Corlys with barely concealed anger but Alyn doesn’t earn her scorn. The scene between her and Alyn in episode 4 appears to be the first time those two have ever interacted. Rhaenys has not had to live every day with the reminder of her husband’s betrayal. If it’s out of sight, it can be (relatively) out of her mind.
I’m sure that the way this show characterizes its female characters as more gentler/calm individuals definitely plays a part with how Rhaenys reacts here too. Which is why the viewers are led to assume Rhaenys just quietly accepted the fact of her husband cheating on her.
In the book, Corlys never dared have his bastards around whilst his wife still lived. He kept the affair so discreet that had it not been for him personally presenting the boys at the Red Sowing, no one would have assumed him to be the father. Both Addam & Alyn were staying with their mother and serving in her fleet. In the show, Alyn is in Corlys’ fleet, and therefore more likely to come under notice (and that’s exactly what happens).
Princess Rhaenys, his wife, had the fiery temperament of many Targaryens, Mushroom says, and would not have taken kindly to her lord husband fathering bastards on a girl half her age, and a shipwright’s daughter besides. Therefore his lordship had prudently ended his “shipyard trysts” with Mouse after Alyn’s birth, commanding her to keep her boys far from court. Only after the death of Princess Rhaenys did Lord Corlys at last feel able to bring his bastards safely forward.
— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons
Not only did Corlys have an affair with a young girl (coincidentally the same age Rhaenys was when she married him), but said girl is also a commoner. Rhaenys is a princess who could have been a queen. For Corlys to make his affair public would have been a huge insult to his wife, even if he never brought up the matter of his bastards. Rhaenys would have been rightfully furious at the shame her husband’s actions bring upon her. She was the first to speak up when her position as heir was usurped so that suggests she’s not the type to just turn a blind eye to anything she considers an injustice against her. Book version has a far more fiery personality than her show counterpart. Her reaction to the truth would probably be different too.
A detail in episode 4 which I did like is when Rhaenys corrected Alyn about her title. Princess not Lady. She’s asserting her position and status in that moment. Alyn serves the Lord of Driftmark so naturally his Lord’s wife would be a Lady to him. By correcting Alyn, Rhaenys places him in the position of an ignorant who does not even know the difference between the titles. Perhaps a subtle expression of classism towards another who is very much beneath her. But the glimmer of antagonism is gone as soon as it appears. Their interaction is not simply Rhaenys welcoming her husband’s bastard with open arms.
The show leaves Rhaenys’ original reaction, when she first finds out about the affair, to the imagination. So it’s difficult to say what exactly she felt in the moment. Unlike fiery tempered book!Rhaenys, the show version is more calm and collected. She is a person who seeks peaceful resolutions to problems (similar to Catelyn) so her reaction in the show makes sense for her even if it’s different from how the book version of her may have reacted. In the HOTD canon, we’re basically getting an interpretation of how Catelyn might’ve reacted to Jon had he been raised away from Winterfell.
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bayetea · 14 days ago
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there are many things about hazel's povs that have an intensely de-racialized vibe to them (read: divorced from the black girl experience) but I think any black person will tell you that the most obvious sign is the complete lack of attention paid to her hair
like firstly:
she's from the 1930s her hair was definitely getting permed and straightened (it was not acceptable to just wear your natural hair out back then. optics + cultural assimilation/you'll be hard pressed to find photos of black american girls with unstraightened hair in that time period unless they're from like..... harlem)
I do believe that marie was straightening it for her For A Time but then she became more neglectful and stopped so hazel had to do it herself. I'm almost positive that hazel wouldn't have even been permitted to set foot in her school building without straightening it because that's just how much of an expectation it was
ok she comes back from the dead. what's she doing to her hair now bc it's not just gonna be cutesy effortless curls falling over her shoulder no matter what the length is
how does she feel about living in a time period where natural black hair is more accepted (read: more, absolutely not fully)
there are no black people around her At All. in fact she's around a lot of white people on the argo (+nico) so that would probably be giving her some intense feelings of double consciousness (look this term up if you don't know what it means) and that would inform how she feels about her hair
theoretically she ought to be wearing her hair in braids for simplicity's sake but I think it's more likely that she would cling to what she knows (perming/straightening) because it's not easy for a 14 year old girl (PSA hazel is 14.5 in hoo not 13 btw 👍) to go from assimilating to deeply-ingrained white hair beauty standards to just proudly wearing a distinctly black hairstyle all by herself
mind you black women and girls can do whatever they want with their hair and straightening/perming it does not always/have to come from a place of self-hatred or whatever but in this particular case back then straightening one's hair was political And a survival tactic. it was as normal as brushing your teeth. it was enforced through dominant cultural messagings about the Absolute Necessity of conforming to white conventions of beauty. if you don't understand then think of it similarly to how you'd think of 1930s women needing to be perpetually dolled up and modestly dressed in order to be considered "good women" and anyways I'm just saying that this would be a lot to unpack for a 14 year old girl so hazel's probably just continuing to do this impractical thing (straightening her hair all the time) like 60% out of habit and 20% out of shame and 20% she doesn't know what else to do
something something about a missed potential character arc regarding all of this and in general there's so little mind paid to race in hazel's povs which is just ridiculous to me because a black girl from the jim crow era should have at least a few feelings about where she fits into modern society even if that society is camp jupiter. rick demonstrates his capacity to talk about how his characters feel about their race most notably in the kane chronicles so I don't think was too much to ask for. see this quote from an early son of neptune chapter:
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^ like....... hazel's feelings of out-of-place-ness are There in the text and important to take note of when understanding her character (note that she's been there for like a year already and she still feels like she doesn't belong) but the emphasis is always put on her Being from a different time or Being undead and is never put on her out-of-place-ness regarding her race as a black girl from segregation times who is literally so out-of-place in this weird post-racial camp jupiter society. it feels like such an obvious thing to consider so its glaring absence really bugs me when I reread her povs and it bugs me when her hair is never talked about by extension because It Matters
you might be thinking "well she had a lot going on and she's not a superficial person maybe she just didn't care what was going on with her hair" and my response is simply that Black girls don't get to "not care" about their hair it is not the same thing as a white person going to school with bedhead it's not the same thing At All (if you aren't black then chances are you've never actually seen what untouched black hair looks like in the morning), especially when it's been beaten into your head for your entire life that your hair is ugly and you have to "do something to it" for it to be acceptable (and again...... she's from the 1930s so that feeling is magnified like 50x over). remember that perpetually dolled up modest 1930s woman I mentioned previously. picture her time traveling to camp jupiter of all places in 2010 and struggling to drop all of her makeup/hairstyling routines and internalized misogyny and conceptualizations of what women are "supposed" to be. this is the kind of fascinating character exploration that we really missed out on with hazel (and tbh regardless of her race she was never believably written as someone from the 1930s. I don't think rick even really tried to be honest)
you might also be wondering "how was rick supposed to know/attempt to portray any of that" and then my second answer is that If you're going to write a character who is not the same race as you then you should do some research and we have the internet now so research has never been easier 👍 this would be especially important to do if that person is a poc from the jim crow era I think! (he could have at least googled black hair 1930s)
anyways what I choose to believe (this is pure fanfiction) is that during hazel's first year at camp jupiter (remember that she was there for about a year before son started) nico would have helped her figure something out after observing her distress over her hair c: like they both secretly watched youtube videos on black hairstyles circa 2010 and then they got attacked by monsters for using a laptop (neither of them know how to use a laptop but he's trying his best for her) but then after killing them he helped her do her hair as something she likes that is easy to maintain <3 (I could also see reyna doing this because she surely knows a thing or two from her spa days)
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violetarks · 1 year ago
Text
spit on my grave, but kiss my mouth!
anime: chainsaw man
characters: hayakawa aki, kishibe, yoshida hirofumi, himeno
summary: they hate you, they can feel it in their bones, but at the first opportunity to kiss you? who wouldn't take that chance?
warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, some name-calling, somebody tries to lush to get y/n's number in yoshida's, kishibe is in his late 20s bc holy smokes he would outshine the whole cast if he is was younger in the anime no lie, kishibe is also a little flirty in this bc that's how he was when he was younger, smoking, drinking (y/n gets a little tipsy), reference to nsfw themes but its legit just the lines "you need an s/o bc you're so tense all the time" and "we didn't... did we?", y/n and kishibe go home together, also a bit suggestive in himeno's part
↣ hayakawa aki
if there was anything he hated more than anything, aki absolutely despised slackers. anyone who postponed their work til the last minute, and for the result to be the most sloppy piece of shit he has ever seen. which is why he didn't understand why makima would ever think of hiring someone like you as a devil hunter.
you stood there, your uniform messily put on — for god's sake, your tie was undone, just hanging around your neck! even power and denji dressed better than you. how could these devils do better than a devil hunter?
you sat atop makima's desk, getting the crumbs of your sandwich all over her furniture. aki visibly cringed. how could you be so careless?
it wasn't like you were unattractive, it's just the way you acted at work that made aki dislike you. and in front of your superior. truthfully, the only reason makima hired you was because of your amazing skill as a hunter without the use of contracts. if you weren't so useful...
when he first met you, aki would admit, he was intrigued. you were pretty, and makima had brought you in to interview you. you were splattered in devil's blood, and you looked serious.
yet the moment that you locked eyes with aki, your demeanour changed. you were suddenly so sloppy. he saw the way you held out your bloodied hand to shake his, how you lazily threw your dirty coat on the couch. he knew from then on, that your looks were a waste, perhaps.
"are you finished, y/n?" makima asked, walking into her office in her trench coat. aki was called there for a morning briefing, so imagine his disappointment when he saw you instead. you nodded your head, hopping off the desk and sweeping the mess you made into the nearby bin. "good. now, you two are teaming up for your next mission."
aki wanted to refuse, so badly. he watched as you tugged on your loose collar, shirt not even tucked in, and stood beside him. he listened to makima outline the upcoming mission, and also listened to how often you yawned or shifted in your spot. you seemed so unintetrsted.
aki's never been on a mission with you, but he's seen the mess you leave behind, more than he would've left. and he's seen you guiltlessly nap in the car while everyone else cleaned up your leftovers.
you were careless when you fought, as seen when you dodge under the attack of a devil and trip over debris on the floor. aki slides in with his unpowered sword, slicing the mutated arm away and shielding you from another attack.
"get up, dumbass!" he calls, looking over his shoulder to see you brushing off dust from your lap.
"relax, geez. i'm up, i'm up." you scoff back, picking up your weapon again. aki wanted to slap some sense into you. "i'm so tired, let's get this done."
the fight continued on until it was at what seemed to be the climax. you were both beaten down, the devil on the brink of giving up. but you gripped your weapon tighter, rushing towards the enemy with determination. you were growing tired of this fight, both mentally and physically. you were imagining yourself at home, in front of the tv with some food in your hands. anywhere but here.
"aki?" you call, looking around the scene. you couldn't find him, and it was worrying you. "aki!"
you were met with silence, making you scowl and continue on trying to defeat the devil. maybe by then, you'll be able to find him and bring him back to makima for help. god, you hated dead weight.
with a few attacks landing on the devil, aki finally stands from his position beneath debris. he had been hit into a wall, making the ceiling fall over him. when he had made himself visible. you glance at him, relieved.
"y/n..." he heaves, drawing his sword. he was bleeding from his shoulders and you could count the tears and cuts in his uniform. and he blamed you for being dirty...
before you can speak, the devil immediately charges towards him. you widen your eyes, racing after it. "aki!"
he breathes in heavily, trying to gather his focus. but his vision is just so blurry that he can't think properly. the blood he's lost has already made him hazy, all he can hear is the loud footsteps of the devil. his joints click and falter as he tries to take his normal fighting stance. he's weak and you can see it.
with all your might, you rush towards him. you couldn't let him die, not someone as strong and admirable as him. while you knew he disliked you (aki definitely wasn't the most subtle), you couldn't deny his worth as a hunter, and as a person. you looked up to him.
aki doesn't know what is happening until he sees you jump high in the air and thrust your weapon to pierce through the devil's skin, knocking it off course. as it skids to the side, you tumble to the ground, rolling on the ground and getting dirt and blood all over you. aki blinks, clueless.
"are you alright, aki?" you huff out, tired. he slowly hums in confirmation. you send him a smile, which makes him gulp. "that's a relief."
the devil turns back to him though, not stopping on its tracks to get to aki. by this time, you're in front of your co-worker, holding your weapon to prepare yourself. with a deep breath, you wait for the devil to come closer before dealing the final blow, ending the devil's life.
once the devil falls lifeless, you let out a loud whine, "agh, finally! ah, i'm so beat!" you fall to the floor, knees giving out beneath you. aki watches you stay on the ground, wiping the sweat off from your brow. with a click of his tongue, he falls to the ground as well. you turn to look at him, blinking. "ah, aki. that devil really fucked you up, huh?"
you laugh makes him even more weak. you move closer to him, taking his chin and turning his head to see his bruises. "we should get you back to the office. i'll patch you up before denji and power see you, alright? they'd piss themselves seein' you like this." you joke, patting his shoulder. your carefree attitude was so irritable...but he couldn't deny that your words made him feel lighter.
so when he pushes forward and presses his lips to yours, he knows why his heart pulses harder when he's around you. he likes you. his palm rests on your neck to hold you in place, making you lean your hands on both sides of his waist to balance yourself. aki squeezes his eyes shut, as if to keep himself from seeing your shocked face.
you were speechless, frozen. but once you settled in, you kissed him back. you tasted like blood — maybe that was his own since he cut his lip — but neither of you seemed to mind. his harsh hand against the back of your head suddenly goes soft, trailing down to brush your cheek.
he sighed against your lips, upturned brows. he felt like he needed this. he needed you.
aki was mysterious with his true feelings, but this was the first glimpse into them. you let out a small sigh as you pull away.
"you—..." you mumble out, covering your mouth as you sit up straight. his hand leaves your cheek, now gripping the debris beneath him. he felt so embarrased. "idiot aki. c'mon, let's get outta' here first."
you heave aki over your shoulder, his arm over while yours is wrapped around his middle. he was also speechless, blushing so red that he kept his head down so you couldn't see. his heart was beating faster at your touch. but to kiss you? he was truly crazy, wasn't he?
↣ kishibe
"can you smoke somewhere else?" you scoff, bringing your glass to your lips. the rest of the room was filled with slight chatter, the sound if cups being clinked together.
"you see any spare seats at this bar?" kishibe asks, putting his lighter away into his pocket. the bar allowed smoking, one of the only bars in the neighbourhood that still did. he watched you roll your eyes and finish your drink, asking the bartender for another. "you're so uptight, ya'know?"
"you're the most annoying person i've ever been paired up with." you groan, watching your glass get refilled. you take your glass once more and glare at kishibe. "those things kill you."
"you drink." he says, putting down his own cold alcoholic beverage. you click your tongue at him. "you act like you're so much better than me."
"you smoke and drink, you smug asshole." you grunt, feeling a little woozy from the past hour of non-stop drinking you and kishibe have been partaking in.
this was his idea, saying that you needed to wind down. you enjoyed a few drinks every now and then, but today had been particularly hard on you. makima was really ripping into after a devil got away, making you go after them again with your partner present this time. you felt embarrassed at your loss. as much as you were strong, kishibe hated how weak you were.
there was no denying that you were somewhat talented, so why weren't you getting stronger? kishibe was already tired from his own work, but when he was paired with you, his job got even harder. you were lazy with your work, leaving hints of your weaknesses everywhere you stepped. and you wondered why. kishibe couldn't handle how much if a rule-follower you were when your strength wasn't anything impressive. sometimes he'd with you'd abandon your work and finally leave all this stuff behind. such an attractive person like you shouldn't be burning their brain trying to work as a devil hunter.
"why don't you just drink and shut up?" kishibe huffs, keeping his cigarette between his fingers. he blew the smoke into the air above you, making you cover your nose and scowl at him. you hated smoking, all the reason why you disliked being partnered up with him. he wasn't kishibe without his smokes. "you're do tense all the time, you need a girlfriend or boyfriend or something. maybe you'll relax a lil'."
"and you're telling me to shut up." you groan, waving the smoke away. kishibe rolls his eyes leaning his elbows into the counter. "you know what, kishibe? i've seriously had enough of—of your attitude."
he watches you down glass after glass; it was kicking in, the alcohol. he was wondering how long it would take before you started slurring your words. it was subtle, but kishibe has never seen you like this, not yet at least. it would be a fun way to tease you tomorrow morning when you come in to work. you glare at him, blinking a few times. he waited impatiently for you to collect your words.
"ever since i met you, you've been a pain in my ass, always runnin' your pretty mouth and rolling your pretty eyes at me." you complain, continuing to drown yourself in the sweet drinks you were taking. kishibe sighs to himself, already knowing that you'll be too drunk to pay your own bill. he pulls out his wallet to start counting bills as you go on to 'insult' him. he'd have to be careful now, he was starting to feel the alcohol too. "if you weren't so strong, i'd kick your ass myself!"
"oh yeah?" he says, deciding on when to stop you from ordering. he calls down the bartender for a few more glasses for you and himself. "you're too weak to pull somethin' like that, sweetheart. can't even hold your own against a low rank devil. need someone strong to protect you, huh?"
"what? says who?" you say, voice raising a little. he hated it when you did that, it was so annoying. you were so childish for someone only a year younger than him. "i was doing perfectly fine without you! makima needed me to babysit you..."
"what are you even goin' on about?" he huffs, taking in some smoke, "do you even know what i'm saying? are you that drunk?"
while you were a little tipsy, you definitely weren't drunk. you were just slurring your words a little, but you were conscious. you weren't saying anything you wouldn't say sober. you knew what you were doing, and how you were acting.
"'course not, shithead. i'm not getting drunk in front of you." you tell him, gulping down another drink. he thinks that maybe your tolerance is moderately high. "i'm just sayin', you're never gonna' get married if you're like that. you're lucky i tolerate you, somebody has to."
he raises a brow at that, then taking one last huff of his cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray provided. "so you're saying i'll only get married if my romantic partner tolerates me?"
"duh." you scoff, tilting your head at him. was he getting drunk? it was also your heightened confidence that he found annoying.
"and you're the only one who tolerates me?" kishibe presses.
"yeah." you answer so quickly that you don't even think. once you realise what you've said, you put your glass down. your face was burning now, and you didn't know whether it was because of the drinks or him. he chuckles. "shut up..."
"mhm." he hums out, now leaning close to you. your shoulders nearly press against each other. he sees no sign of you moving away, but you begin to stare at him, unable to figure out which eye to look at. "you wanna' kiss me?"
you let out a small sigh, glancing down at his lips for a second. but you harden your stare in his eyes.
"or are you asking me to kiss you?" he offers. your eyes widen a little at that, and it seems he has his answer already. but you were so cute like this, he just had to tease you. "but i've been smoking. it'll taste like it, y'know?"
"just let me find out." you mumble, placing a hand on the side of his stool, against his thigh, "kiss me once?"
"well, shit." he chuckles out, now resting a hand on your cheek. you blink at him, feeling comfortable against his palm. "you've got a little crush on me."
you furrow your brows and mumble out, "s—so?"
"ain't that cute?" he says, brushing his thumb against your cheek, "you're not gonna' slap me if i kiss you, are ya'?"
"only if you keep on wasting time." you huff, fist against the bar top. you would never ask him something like this out of the blue. but the atmosphere around you both... it felt suitable. a small smile dawns on his lips at your eagerness.
"fine." he sighs out, leaning forward and finally connecting lips with yours. you hold your breath, not really expecting him to do it. your hand on the stool tightens its grip as he slides his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. your lips were so soft, and warm. he can tell that you haven't kissed many people, but that doesn't matter. he never thought he'd be kissing you either.
he had been smoking for the past hour, so he did taste like smoke. while you hated the taste, now, it was sort of masked by the drinks you were both having. and you just couldn't get it out of your head that you were kissing kishibe. the man you kinda' hated.
the kiss didn't last as long as either of you would've wanted, but it's a public place and you only asked for a sample. when he pulls away, you open your eyes to see his smug smile that always makes you irritated. but this time, you're just plain embarrassed. he begins to laugh at you softly, making you click your tongue and push his face away.
"d—don't talk about it." you say, standing up and grabbing your coat. you pay for your drinks with a tip and avoid eye contact with your partner. he downs the rest of his drink and puts his own money down. you begin to walk to the exit before kishibe reaches out and holds your wrist. you glare back at him. "what?"
"can't let you go home all by yourself." he says, standing up and shrugging his trench coat on. you squint at him. "and you don't wanna' let lil' ol' me walk home alone either, do you? let's take a cab to yours."
"seriously?" you mumble under your breath, walking to the exit with him behind you. "fine... you can sleep on the couch."
"aw, such a pity."
↣ yoshida hirofumi
"yoshida, may i speak with you for a moment?" the teacher asks after the bell rings, making everyone in the class turn to their classmate. a playful 'ooh' rang around the room to tease him, making yoshida roll his eyes with a smile. the rest of the class begins to tidy their things up until the teacher speaks up again. "class president, please wait outside for a few minutes.
you look up from your desk, blinking at your teacher. but you nod your head. "yes, ma'am." you respond, fixing your uniform and taking your bag, heading outside with your friends.
yoshida can't help but roll his eyes at the way you walk out of the classroom, all preppy and gracious. you don't even look at him, as if he was scum compared to you. the two of you weren't friends and that was clear enough. you were the class president and needed to keep everyone in order. the rest of the class had liked you and you were friends with other classes too. but the only one who didn't like you was yoshida hirofumi.
you told him that the school didn't allow all those piercings and that the standard were the studs. but he came back the next day with another piercing, showing it off with a diamond earring that he wore once for the purpose of pissing you off. you reprimanded him, disliking his laidback attitude and how he didn't take school seriously. what a waste of a student. you knew plenty of people who would do way better in his position. someone like you knew this and hated that he didn't.
yoshida hated how uptight you were and how you were such a stickler for the rules. he knows that he's not a good student, but why were you always on his ass for it? there were other people in the class — hell, there were tons of other people in the school that you could've been paying attention to, but you chose him. he hated it so much.
"to cut it short, yoshida, your grades have been dropping severely." the teacher had said, making the student snap back into reality. he stands up straight again, nodding his head. "i've decided to allocate you a tutor for all of your classes. you and—"
"don't say l/n."
"... l/n will be meeting on your own terms to study. they're an excellent student and have tutored many of your classmates, yoshida, there is no need to worry." the teacher continued, handing him a stack of papers. he holds them, heaving them under his arms. "practice exams, practice essay, practice tests. you will go through all of these with l/n."
"seriously?" yoshida huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, "for how long?"
"until your grades are better." the teacher explains, sitting down to grade their quiz from today, "i understand that the two of you aren't close, but make-do for now. you need to rely on them."
"i understand." he sighs, taking the work and leaving the classroom. he sees you standing next to the door, bag on your shoulder as you read a book. he wants to cringe at the cliché scene. "hey. you're tutoring me."
"i know." you respond, tucking your book into your bag and starting on your way, "we're heading to the city library."
"wait, what? you knew?" he says, falling into step beside you. you nod your head. he knits his brows at you as you exit the school. "great. now i gotta' spend months with you."
"just get your grades up and you're fine." you respond, looking to the sky for some patience. he was already getting annoying. "trust me, even a delinquent like you can pass the next exam."
"you talk a lotta' shit for a goody-two-shoes." he huffs, swinging his bag recklessly around. the two of you board a train towards the city and you take the papers from yoshida, flicking through them and making notes of what to teach him. he watches you from his spot beside you. "even your handwriting is blinding. why is it so... neat?"
"you mean readable?" you scoff, looking at him with an aggravated expression. why did he talk so much? "i'm doing this for you."
"why did you even agree to this if we don't like each other?" he asks you, watching the roof of the strangely empty train. you look back to the work, sorting them into sections. "you have a secret crush on me or something?"
"what? no, idiot." you scoff, shaking your head, "i just don't want you to fall behind. it'd be a shame for everyone else to graduate without you." he looks back to you, a surprised look on his face. but you look away, outside. "don't look too much into it, yoshida. just trying to keep the class average up."
"yeah, whatever..." he mumbles, going back to hating you. any sliver of you being genuinely nice was now gone. he just listened to the way the train rolled across the tracks. he listened to you scribble down your notes.
he had watched countless people confess to you. just yesterday, a girl handed you a bouquet of flowers — your favourite ones, apparently — and confessed to you that she had feeling for you for a year. but you rejected her, apologising and saying that you did not return her feelings. it felt somewhat cold, yoshida was watching from around the corner. luckily you didn't notice him, you probably would've told him off for not doing his class duties.
he never understood the appeal to you. why did so many people want you?
a few minutes kater, you were in the library, setting up your things in a private study area. you gave him some work to try out and pulled out your own things to do. he sighs, taking out his pencil case to write on the paper, "put on some music or something."
"this is a library, yoshida." you retort, rolling your eyes, "just do your work and show me when you're done."
"jesus, i can't believe people actually like you." he groans, leaning back in his chair. you blink at his insult. "i don't understand why everyone flocks around you and throw themselves in your direction."
"i'm the class president, people come to me for advice all the time. maybe if you showed up to class more than one a week you'd notice." you huff out, glaring at him, "people like me because i'm good help."
"singing your own praises?" he snickers, flipping through the booklet. he hated how confident you were in yourself when he really saw you as overbearing. even the way you sat there, writing with your perfect handwriting. "i can't deal with you, president."
"i couldn't tell." you sigh, standing up. he watches your movements. "i'm going to grab you a book go borrow for the next week. it has all you need to know on the book we studied this semester. i don't have enough time to explain everything to you before the exams since it's in a few months. but that book will help."
"yay..." he mumbles out, moving onto the next set of questions. he waited for you to come back with your stupid book, but enough time had passed that it was suspicious. he even finished the booklet that you gave him, and that took him a while. he looks around the library, seeing few people walking about. "where are they go? don't tell me they abandoned me here..."
he stands up, positive your stuff would stay safe, and begins to look through the aisles. he doesn't see you yet, and he's getting pissed out. you made him come here, and you just ditched? that's so 'un-presidently' of you.
but he hears your voice in the next aisle, sounding pissed off. like always, when you spoke to him.
"thank you for showing me where the book is, but i should get going." you say, yoshida standing at the other end of the aisle, out of your sight. he could see the boom you were holding and your stupid hair, but you were blocked off by someone else. "please leave me alone."
"aw, what? i help you find your book and this is the thank i get?" the taller person says, hand against the bookshelf to keep you from walking off. you roll your eyes at them. "c'mon, just your number, that's all i ask for."
"it's your job to help people in the library find their books. you work here." you explain, tucking the book under your arm, "i don't owe you anything other than a 'thank you'."
"well i take my 'thank you's in dates." they respond. yoshida sighs, clenching his fists and walking towards the both of you. "what's somebody gotta' do to land one with you—"
"leave 'em alone, asshole." yoshida scoffs, tugging the worker back and standing in between the both of you. you widen your eyes at him before looking away, a bit ashamed to need his help. but yoshida is glaring at the librarian. "they're not interested."
"shit man, i'm sorry, i didn't know they—"
"yeah whatever. get outta here." yoshida scoffs, rolling his eyes. the worker only looks his up and down before walking off, muttering under their breath. once they're gone, yoshida looms to you. "you good?"
"yeah..." you mumble out, rubbing your forehead, "people like that give me a headache.
"mhm." he huns out, seeing how you lean against the bookcase. you stared down st the analytical text in your hands. you were so embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. some like him, protecting you...
you look back up and see his smug face, and you just know that he's aware of how you're feeling.
"who would've guessed it? i had to come to the class president's aid." yoshida chimes, leaning a hand against the bolted down bookshelf. you scowl at him, closing your eyes. "i guess you owe me one now, huh?"
"and once again, you're an ass..." you retort. your little scrunched up face makes yoshida smile. genuinely. he scans your appearance before tilting his head at you.
"what is it that makes people fawn over you so much?" he questions, looking confused. you open your eyes to see him standing closer. "i mean, sure, you're cute, but that's about it, no? your stubbornness ruins it all. as soon as you open your mouth, i wanna burst my ear drums."
"whatever, yoshida. i don't care what you have to say." you mumble back at him.
"see? so mean." he chuckles, take another step closer. you notice but don't say anything, to which he notices as well. out of all the people who have liked you, he's surely standing the closest. you haven't pushed him away, which is strange. you'd usually be out in a second. but you stand your ground. he smiles at you. "how could anyone find that attractive?"
you look to the side for a split second, only for yoshida to come unbearably closer. you can feel his breath on your cheek and his shoulder is against yours. his other hand stays in his pocket while the other braces himself. you hold your own breath.
"maybe people only like your pretty face." he says, not missing a beat as his hand slides down to hold the shelf beside your torso. his wrist slightly grazes your body. you shiver for a second, standing up straighter. yoshida pays attention. "you think so, y/n?"
"no, i—i don't." you stammer. yoshida is surprised when he feels you grasp his shirt, making him lean back jut enough to see your expression. you could barely hold your glare. so cute. "i'm... i'm a good person, so that's why—"
"that's the first thing people notice when they look at you. your looks." he claims, making your face burn hot. but yoshida just smiles at you. "you sayin' i'm wrong?"
you scoff at him, "why are you so close anyway...?" he raises his brows at you, eyes flicking to your lips for more than a second. you realise what he's looking at before you speak again. "yoshida...?"
"you don't seem to mind..." he trails off, "you can always push me away if i get too close..."
you don't say anything as he gets closer and closer until suddenly, he's kissing you. yoshida's hand stays at the shelf to hold himself up, but his other one gently holds your hand against his chest. you're kissing back before you can even think, your other hand still holding onto the book.
he tastes a bit savoury, probably because of the hot lunch he had before. but the drink he had on the table where you two were studying, is sweet. the mixture entices you as you as you are the one to deepen the kiss, pushing forward and catching yoshida by surprise.
you let out a small squeak; it was obvious you weren't experienced. with how seriously you took school, how could you be? yoshida didn't have his fair share of partners either but, he was so gentle with you.
when he pulls away, he opens his eyes to see your dazed look towards him. you gulp once you regain your sense of thought, then leaning back.
"i'm sorry, i—"
"i guess you're not a terrible kisser." he interrupts you, standing up straight and keeping his hands to himself. you feel somewhat relieved, but you nudge yoshida in the stomach due to embarrassment. "hey, stop. maybe that's why people like you."
"i don't go around kissing everyone, shit for brains." you claim, shoving the book into his chest. he stands back with an 'oof', watching you walk out of the aisle.
"so it's just me?" he chuckles, jogging to catch up with you. you glare at him. "how lucky."
↣ himeno
himeno didn't understand why aki spoke so highly of you. her friend, whose opinion was usually right, explained that you were a tremendous hunter and that you were highly respected. so why are you in her apartment, in your shirt and underwear, and eating out of her fridge?
"morning." you say, seeing the groggy himeno coming out of her room. she blinks cluelessly at you. "you hungry? i made breakfast."
"the hell are you doing here?" she grunts, walking closer to you in a hoodie and sweatpants. you look back at her, sorting the breakfast into two bowls. "and why are you using my food?"
"huh? you don't remember? you invited me over last night after drinks." you explain, taking out two spoons and shoving one into the food before pushing the bowl to himeno. "you're wearing my sweater, by the way."
"i was wonder when i bought this." she murmurs to herself. but she then shakes her head, sitting down at the counter and thinking to herself why would she ever invite the person she loathed the most to stay at hers? "we didn't... did we?"
"no, himeno. you were black out drunk, y'know." you say in an obvious tone. she clicks her tongue and eats her food. you begin to eat as well. "did you take the medicine and drink the water i left on your bedside table?"
why were you acting so nice? she gripped her spoon tighter, stopping her movements as she swallows her food. "yes. you didn't have to do that." she thinks she would've preferred if you didn't. now she feels obligated to return the favour.
"it's nothing. i didn't want you to wake up so hungover again." you retort, looking to the ceiling.
she scans you and wonders how you could be so indecent in front of her when you were 'well-respected'. your underwear was showing, you weren't wearing any pants, your shirt was crinkled and loose hanging, your hair was a mess and you just look tired overall. this was not the pristine presentation he was used to.
you catch her staring. "sorry, do you want me to put on my pants? i couldn't find em around here." you admit, looking at the messy floor. himeno feels a little embarrassed at the mess but doesn't keep her eyes off you.
"no, it's fine." she retorts, feeling her eye patch before running her fingers through her hair, "don't you have a mission or something?"
you think for a second before putting down the bowl. "yeah, i think. later, makima wants me to check something out with her." you tell her, watching her roll her eyes, "what's wrong?"
"you in love with her too?" she scoffs.
"no?" you say, tilting your head, "she's my boss."
"oh." you'd be the first she'd hear doesn't like her. she sits up straight on her stool. "really?"
"yeah, really." you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making himeno stop. you continue to eat your food. "i don't date superiors."
"right..." she mumbles back, confused. but you accidentally drop your spoon on the floor, making you curse quietly. she's never heard you swear, and she stares at you.
you lick your thumb, a little bit of sauce on it, before you turn to her with wide eyes. "ah, sorry, himeno. paper towels?"
she points to the cupboard and finishes her food, watching you clean up your mess. you're not really clumsy, she knows, so seeing you drop something was strange. you were usually moving so perfectly...
"you always like this?" she hums out, chin in her hand.
you put the towels in the bin and take your empty bowls (hers as well) and clean them. "i'm sorry, i live alone. so no one really sees me mess up." you admit.
himeno hates your voice. you don't speak much, but when you do, she's rolling her eyes. what you have to say is usually so inspiring to the other hunters, but she finds them cheesy. kobeni was brought to happy tears by what you said to her before a mission, which made himeno stop everyone and wait for kobeni to stop crying.
you're so high and mighty. everyone loves you and you try to be so mysterious. she never understood why everyone liked you, why everyone tolerated you when you don't do anything. maybe you're strong, stronger than aki and kishibe, but you were just praised so much that she hated you.
but seeing you now, all over the dishes and struggling to clean the things you used, it makes you feel more human to her. she watches you from the counter, hearing you curse to yourself as the dishwashing soap falls from your hand and into the soapy water. you turn to her to see if she saw. she did. you embarrassed yourself, and you sheepishly look away. she smiles. and stops as soon as she realises she is.
you were like some high school kid watching themselves around their crush. the way you glanced at her told her all she needed to know.
"i'm gonna go and change." she says, standing up from her stool and moving to her bedroom. she doesn't wait for your reply, but she heard a faint 'okay' from her room.
she didn't understand the change. admittedly, last night was the only time she's seen you outside of work hours, where no devils were there to stop you from being just you. you were sitting quietly, listening to everyone speak. you didn't know what to say.
after you finish the dishes, you try to clean up around the living room and kitchen. there were blankets and pillows all on the floor, maybe she was having a party or something. but you pick them up, fold them, put them in their place. and you finally find your pants, sliding them on happily.
you look for your belt under the couch when you hear someone clear their throat. looking up, you see himeno standing in her work attire with her arms crossed.
"hey, i'm looking for something, sorry." you say, standing up. she hands you your hoodie, which you plan on putting over your work shirt and tie. you just needed to find your belt and you would be set. "i'll be ready soon—oof!"
you fall onto the couch, on your back, as himeno moves forward and clambers over you. she gives you a pointed look as you stare up at her, feeling your face heating up. you gulp, one hand bracing the cushion of the couch, and the other hanging off the side. she's loosely straddling one of your thighs, hovering above you as her hand still on the sides of your head.
"h—himeno—"
"do you have a crush on me?" she interrupts you, tilting her head.
"what? that would be unprofessional, i—i couldn't..." you begin, losing your voice as you feel how close she is to you. your heart speeds up. "i'm sorry..."
"i knew it..." she huffs, leaning to the side a little. she scans your face, how your eyes stay on her. "you're terrible at hiding it."
"i'm sorry." you say, gulping. she was leaning closer, and you were getting nervous. "please don't hate me for it. we're partners."
"i bet you wish we were more." she jokes, gently grasping your chin so you look her dead in the eyes. you look like a poor deer in headlights. "i already hate you. everyone talks about how cool and how strong you are. and you suck it all in, go along with it. makes you feel better, doesn't it?"
"what?" you whisper out, blinking innocently.
"i hate people like you." she says, enjoying how you helplessly stared at her. you looked so hopeless — hopelessly in love with her. without a word more, she leans down and softly connects her lips with yours.
you hold your breath, keeping still as she kisses you. it was so out of the blue — didn't she say she hated you? you carefully move your free hand to the back of her neck, squeezing your eyes shut and missing her back eagerly.
her hand drops from your chin, dragging down to stop at your waist, holding you from there. your breathing hitches, and you pull away slightly to gasp. she catches your lips again, setting herself down to straddle you properly. she continues to kiss you as you sit up slightly, elbows bent to hold your weight.
you felt hot in the face, you knew you were embarrassing yourself by being such a klutz. but as her lips leave yours, you almost chase. himeno was an enchantress. you loved her smell, the sound of her voice, the way she walked. and here she was, saying how much she hated you.
"i—i thought you didn't like me." you huff out, sitting up straight to be face to face with himeno. your lidded eyes and dazed expression made her hold her breath for a moment. but, as if you've gathered your confidence, you begin to lean in again. "do... you not wan—"
"don't you have to meet up with makima?" she says, placing a hand on your chest and shoving you back to lay down again with a huff. she hops off your, moving to grab her shoes. "c'mon, before you're late and your amazing reputation is ruined."
you take a moment to gather yourself. your hair was even more messed up, and you stared at the roof with a heavy heart. it was beating fast, making you take in a deep breath and sit up, fixing your outfit and hair. you look behind you, seeing your belt underneath the pillow. after standing up and putting it on, you see himeno waiting for you.
she was leaning against the wall, watching you scramble to put your shoes on. she herself was wondering why she had kissed you too. you were always good-looking, but the way you acted pissed her off. did your prettiness really cloud her judgement.
she looks down to you sitting on the floor, struggling to tie your shoelaces. she chuckles.
no, she just met the real you today.
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azul-marie · 1 year ago
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flirtatious character intros. (various/goddess reader.) (3)
note: fem. reader. suggestive. 3rd person pov. feat. raiden (+ dark) fujin, nightwolf, scorpion
i’m so happy to finally share the newest installment of this series! all the exciting news about mk1 definitely gave me some much needed motivation to finish these. once mk1 drops later this month, i’m considering adding its brand new roster to this series as well — let’s hope future me does so. thank you all for the love and patience you’ve shown; please enjoy your reading.
part 1 ; part 2.
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raiden
raiden: i am glad to see you look so well, name.
name: you act as if we haven’t seen each other in years, old friend.
raiden: no matter our time apart, i will always be glad to see you. 
raiden: do you still accept my friendship, twisted as i am?
name: so long as we serve the realms together,  never will i stray from you.
raiden: your kindness is undeserving, name.
name: raiden, there are rumors whispering about us. 
raiden: do they speak falsehoods, name?
name: for my heart’s sake, i hope them true.
name: raiden, there are rumors whispering about us.
raiden: are they a nuisance to you, name?
name: i’d merely like to know how to make them fact, is all.
raiden: you never fail to surprise me, name.
name: how so, my lord?
raiden: despite our years together, my affection for you grows ever stronger each time we meet.
name: i visited the sky temple some time ago, but you weren’t there.
raiden: is that so? what were you in need of, name?
name: what else? you, of course.
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dark raiden
name: my lord, i beg of you — do not test my resolve this way.
dark!raiden: haven’t i proved myself worthy of your devotion?
name: how could i, knowing what you’ll become?
dark!raiden: devote yourself unto me, goddess.
name: my lord would have me succumb to darkness?
dark!raiden: he would have you as his rightful bride.
name: what is happening to you, my lord?
dark!raiden: do you fear me, name?
name: i fear i am losing my dearest friend.
name: what is happening to you, friend?
dark!raiden: i’ve sought this power to protect us, name.
name: in doing so, you would sacrifice the raiden i cherish?
dark!raiden: tell me whose presence offends you most, name, and i will bring you their head.
name: my lord, surely you jest?
dark!raiden: i’ve told you, haven’t i? anything for your sake is worth doing.
dark!raiden: i will allow no harm to befall you again, goddess.
name: what have you done, raiden?
dark!raiden: whatever necessary to have you remain by my side.
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fujin
fujin: the winds have blown the most loveliest of breezes my way.
name: (laughing) i am sure i’ve heard those words countless times before.
fujin: yet still they flatter, should your smile show for it.
name: fujin, there are rumors up in the air about us.
fujin: no need to mind them. let the others speak all they want.
name: are they correct, is all i wonder . . .
name: my lord, there are rumors up in the air about us.
fujin: you need only ask, and i shall speak my heart, name. 
name: fujin . . . will you accept mine in return?
fujin: my lady, would there ever come a day you’d reconsider my offer?
name: earthrealm has its brothers thunder for protection. is it necessary for me to join you?
fujin: it would certainly put my mind at ease, gazing upon your beauty each day.
name: dearest fujin? you’re still alive?
fujin: of course. i couldn’t bear another moment without your company.
name: i am glad your spirit remains ever breezy.
name: dearest fujin! everyone told me you’d been lost to time.
fujin: time itself could never keep me from you, lady name.
name: thank the four winds that guided you back to me.
fujin: tell me, has bi-han troubled you in any way?
name: the dark one has no hold over me, my lord.
fujin: should that ever change, allow me to be the first you turn to.
fujin: you’re quite popular among our mortal friends, name.
name: (laughs) worry not, he of wind. my eyes are still set on you alone.
fujin: i . . . ahem. it’s not like you to tease, my lady.
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nightwolf
name: your wisdom surpasses that of many mortals.
nightwolf: it is by the great spirit’s guidance, not my own. 
name: humble and handsome . . . she’s chosen her champion well. 
nightwolf: the great spirit wasn’t lying about you.
name: pray tell, were they kind words?
nightwolf: kind as you are lovely.
name: i admire your resilience, nightwolf.
nightwolf: all i am, all i have become, is for the matoka’s sake.
name: blest be the matoka to have you, dear one.
nightwolf: haokah is especially fond of you, name. he a close friend?
name: indeed. we’ve known one another for eons now.
nightwolf: (scoffs) if i were him, i would’ve asked for your hand the moment i laid eyes on you.
name: i’ve never met a nightwolf in person before.
nightwolf: thoughts on your first, name?
name: if you’re willing, allow me the pleasure of knowing you further.
nightwolf: the great spirit’s keen on our meeting together, name.
name: she wishes to boast the power of her latest champion?
nightwolf: she wishes for us to be . . . compatible. take that as you will.
name: have you any sage words for me, nightwolf?
nightwolf: none whatsoever.
name: the way your eyes wander tell me otherwise, young pup.
nightwolf: i have heard that countless suitors vie for your hand, name.
name: such is the life of a goddess, i’m afraid.
nightwolf: allow me to put a stop to them for you, here and now.
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scorpion
name: the thralls of hellfire no longer consume your heart?
scorpion: my suffering can only be quelled for so long.
name: if i may, allow me to ease it for as long as i can. 
scorpion: shinnok was infatuated with you.
name: he, like many others. does it trouble you, hanzo?
scorpion: so long as i am the only one in your company, no. 
scorpion: for all we’ve suffered, will you bless the shirai ryu?
name: grace me with honorable kombat, and blessings you shall receive.
scorpion: your kindness will not be forsaken, name.
scorpion: should you ever desire it, the fire gardens are welcome for you to visit.
name: a kind invitation, grandmaster. i’d hope it would come with a tour.
scorpion: it would be an honor, name.
scorpion: sub-zero has mentioned you time and time again, goddess.
name: is that envy i hear, hanzo?
scorpion: there will be no need for envy once i’ve proven my superiority for your hand.
name: i admire such ardent loyalty for your comrades, grandmaster.
scorpion: the ones i cherish fan the flames of my devotion.
name: i hope that i, too, am among such ones.
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sevs-corner · 8 days ago
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Tf 141: Mafia AU!
Chapter 3: Home Not-So-Sweet Home
{A/N: Link to prev ch + mini epilogue to the ch where it goes into another character's POV in that ch hehe } :
Preface:
So you meet the sons and the soul crashing reality reveal of what you found yourself in the middle of. You thought that getting a job was hard? This circustry of a shit show was on a whole another level, one for which you refuse to involve yourself in adamantly.
Yet that gets swept under the rug as the chores pile on again and this time with a promise of getting your end of the bargain much earlier than you estimated.
But at what cost?
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‘At the cost of my life!’ You internally scream, ‘the whole nine yards of it!’
After that bombshell of a reveal, and you losing another a piece of your soul with it— as they (unanimously forced by Nonno) decided to let that sit and stew with you as you got placed into the same room you woke up in.
“Ridiculous!” You cursed yourself, “what are the chances?!”
You wanted to rip your hair out at this point from how skewed your priorities were at the moment.
The minute you agreed, once again, to a damn proposal by the old man-- you got yourself fucked in the ass!
'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice,'
"Shame on me," you mutter, your pace now slowing down as your distress subsides- thinking of better positives like, how losing a job and being out of it is still way worse! At least they were paying... right?
Oh, for fuck's sake- that money isn't even clean!
Although in times of struggle, you think of which weighs more- your hunger and comfort or your morals....
It was an easy pick, priorities were priorities after all- morals weren't gonna feed you on the street, a job was.
And an opportunity provided you with one!
With its own drawbacks of course, which meant that you were now tied to whatever family mafia this bakery started from. Which makes you question if... Nonno is or was... the big boss, the head muchacho, the el capitano, of the family.
"Cara," a knock sounds at the door, "can you let me in?"
'Speak of the devil...'
"Yeah," you gulped and approached the door, "its your shop, you know?"
The man laughs, as soon as your head peaked through the door to open it for him.
Nonno was quite tall for his age even with his back slightly hunched, but he had no need for a cane-- he still looked as lively as the photo on the pin board, just with salt and pepper colored hairs and it growing out at all of his possible orifices.
He looks like that type of old guy that reads the paper outside of coffee shops that open up in the wee hours of the morning. Kind, lowkey, keeps to himself, offering up a pleasant, "good day!" to whoever passes.
Yet, that gets skewed now with how your perception gets tainted with your previous thoughts of him being... that type of person.
"But your room." He simply counters, slowly entering the room and ending up by sitting by your bed, to which he pats his hand on.
Nodding, you approach him and sat where he signaled you to. Hands on your lap with your back as straight as a trained soldier, it was too easy to notice the uneasiness you were feeling. Which was quite the opposite of the vibe Nonno was exuding at the moment.
"So you want to work here?" Nonno asks, starting it off easy, to which you appreciated and replied in kind.
"I do," and you face him, "if you'd let me."
He smiles this time, gently grabbing your hands with one and patting it with the other.
"You're a good kid." He compliments confidently.
You pout, "that's kinda ironic for what I'm signing up to, isn't?"
He shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face, "so you've heard."
"Nonna said so," you shrugged, "I honestly wouldn't have figured that out if she didn't tell me otherwise."
This time he huffs, as if he couldn't believe his wife did such thing, but you think it might be because of a different reason from how that smile contrasts that far away look in his eyes.
"And you still want to work here?"
He asks after some moments of contemplation and you nod.
"And you're fine with us being affiliated with the mafia?"
You take a pause this time, reading into his wording.
"So," you slowly voiced out your concern, "you and Nonna aren't part of the mafia?"
He pats your cheek, shaking his head.
"Our children are. We just raised them, and naturally," he wistfully reminisces, "we couldn't let them go. 'Family is forever-' a creed that similarly works for them as well."
You took a breath in as you try to ingest the explanation you needed to hear, you wanted to hear more but it looked as if that it was taxing for the man to continue on.
So you gave him space, but he pulled you closer by tugging your hands, silently telling to not leave yet and hear him out more.
"People came and went at this bakery but they never left," he says so softly, his thumbs rubbing your clasped hands, trying to find his own means of comfort- whether you provide it or not.
But you did, and let him.
"and they wouldn't let someone like you left hanging by your own as well."
This time you had to raise at brow at his vague wording.
"But," you try to explain, "I just met them? I'm quite literally a stranger you met not even twenty-four hours ago."
You feel him pull you close, your head under his chin and you don't feel the instinctual urge to pull away at the moment.
"They're soft-hearted kids," you could feel his chest rumble, "they only want to help. We want to help."
You were a bit confounded but nodded anyways, not feeling like denying this right now would end well, so you try... to let it pass.
"You raised that bearded guy right then," you let out a chuckle of your own, "said the same exact thing-- even though it was said through Suds."
He pulls you away for a moment to look at you, asking who the hell is 'Suds' and you explained what happened earlier- making him bellow quite similarly to how Graves was earlier.
You smile at the similarity, now seeing how close these children might be to the old couple.
Maybe the reality you were in wasn't so bad. The five men you've met so far have been decent to you, and haven't quite attempted anything that made you consider them dangerous of the sort.
Maybe you can't take their words and actions as it is at the present, but you knew you could with Nonna and Nonno.
You had your own intuition, a personal vibe check of people you meet and you unconsciously do it with everyone; so you were quite sure that, if you had to work here and had to rely on someone-- they would be your best bet every time.
So you let the moment happen, accepting that if life had led you to this moment, it must be for a reason right? You could only that it was a good one at that.
After clearing up that murky air in your room, you offered Nonno your genuine appreciation.
"Though," you added on after a couple of giggles from the story you told him, "you shouldn't feel forced to help me. I'm happy to work the hours and for the meals you and Nonna have given me so far."
He huffs, standing up from your seated positions on the bed.
"To think that you have the audacity to assume that we're being forced to do anything at our age?"
You kinda had to laugh at that statement, it was quite excessive but truthful all the same.
"Just want to let you know that I'll still help around here if you need me to."
You both share a grin and a nod of agreement, understanding the feelings underneath all the words exchanged.
"Then let's put you to work!"
Nevermind.
You wished you hadn't let that moment happen.
Fate simply likes to toy with you and your existence apparently.
Right when you thought you could be on the same page with someone, they slap you with a dose of reality that your list of chores is unending and it needs to be worked on now.
After your chat with Nonno, he asked you to go and pick-up groceries for him.
In which you find yourself trapped between two men, where you could say that they could quite easily and thoughtlessly break you neck with their biceps and thighs alone.
"A'int no way Nonno would let someone pick up his groceries for 'im."
The man, standing intimidatingly hot in front of you, had a deep frown on his face- arms crossed in a wide legged stance that made it impossible for you to escape at any angle you tried to even attempt to wriggle through.
Especially not with his, stern and cute, buddy that held the same position but with a more stone-cold look on his face.
"Look," you sigh, "I don't know who you are but I'm just running errands for him."
You see them share a look, whispers of 'spanish?' you think that you picked up on but drop it when they turn to you again.
"Hard to believe that he would, pendejo."
You gave him an offended look but grunted, arms shaking from the amount of plastic and paper bags you had in your hands.
You find yourself in quite a predicament, all because you mentioned who the groceries were for when you entered a couple shops around the market district of the city.
The list, in of itself, was quite lengthy and all the more of the things you had to carry.
You only regretted now that you rescinded your acceptance of Ghost's assistance in shopping once he dropped you off here.
Maybe he would've warded off these weirdos with his presence alone, or slap a brand right in front of his jacket stating he was part of the mafia-- whichever way that could be easier and less humuliating than the moment where you're in right now.
Arms struggling to juggle the bags, legs shaky from all the walking you had to do, and just simply overly exhausted from the life you stumbled into not even 48 hours in since you had left your own city.
"What else do you want me to say then?" you grumble, wanting to get over with this so you could just catch the next bus already-- which was coming in quite close with a few minutes to spare.
"Proof," the more clean faced guy answers, hand held out as if you were going to something.
You aren't even able to hand them ANYTHING!
Though you were tired, tired of the conversation, and tired of them hustling you so you nodded, saying that the list Nonno wrote himself is in your jacket pocket.
The more scuffed bearded man nods, letting the other check your pocket and grab the paper hanging out of your pocket.
He opens it up and his eyes widen, offering it to the other guy who you noticed had cursed under his breath.
"Believe me now?" you ask sassily, although a bit out of breath at this point and they nod.
"Apologies chiquit@," the second guy apologies, a more welcoming grin on his face, "can't be too safe around this place, you know?" {A/N: spanish for little one}
"Uhuh..." you agree, eyes narrowing. "Can I leave now, then?"
They both shook their heads, which made your mouth open in complaint until they grabbed all the stuff from you- ruffling your feathers even more.
Like you didn't have enough problems in the world-!
"We're gonna get ya' back to the bakery," the second one explains and you let them, quite relieved that they got the stuff from you but you still had your guard up. "you were gonna catch the bus right? We can just bring you there."
You shook your head at that proposal. You- alone with two strangers that literally was one click away from ending your guts just because you knew someone called Nonno?
"I don't even know you people!" You accused, "If you ask me, don't you look strange for knowing Nonno and asking a stranger if they knew who he was?!"
They both looked at each other before cracking up in laughter, making you toss your hands up in frustration, furiously rubbing at your face as the blood started rushing to your cheeks.
"You really don't know huh?"
The less bearded guy asks, wiping an invisible tear from his eyes ad you nastily remarked back a, "i don't fucking know- so what?!" to which makes him cackle again by throwing his head back.
"I'm Alejandro," the other introduces, finally coming down from his own set of his giggles, but you could still see his chest stutter.
He slaps his other friend on the back, making him sputter but eventually introduce himself as "Rodolfo, my boss' right hand man," and he pats Alejandro on his shoulder, making them both grin.
And you stare.
And stare.
And...stare...
"Oh shit!"
You facepalmed.
This was the guy you were going to ask Nonna about in the photo at the pin board. You couldn't believe this guy existed in the flesh--
"You look so different from your picture!" You pointed at Alejandro who slightly tilts his head in confusion, "the one at the pin board at the kitchen!"
He nods and chortles, "well I was quite young then," realizing what photo you were referring to.
Your shoulders drop at this, that photo looked recent from how colorized and clean it was!
"Ah sorry," you apologized, "for my comment and not realizing you were Nonno's sons."
They waved their hands, a more easy-going pace exuding from them as the tenseness from the air dissipates.
"It's all good," Rodolfo reassures, "we we're just alarmed that Nonno allowed someone asides from himself to get his ingredients."
"We weren't even allowed to do it," Alejandro rolls his eyes, "that uptight viejo." {A/N: spanish for old man}
You nod in understanding... well only a bit because you didn't quite relate to that notion but agreed nonetheless.
"So," Alejandro smirks to you, "let's ride?"
Surprisingly, the ride wasn't even half bad, nor getting to know the two and their own mafia called Los Vaqueros.
The ride was quite long from the traffic so that gave you enough time to explain your situation and what you knew to them. You thought that, if they were Nonna and Nonno's sons anyways, you'll eventually meet them down the line while working at their place. You were bound to meet them one way or another, even though first meetings aren't your best first impressions.
By the time you got back, it was nightfall and the time to close up shop. Which meant, you were also clocked out for the day--
"once I get this all sorted, I swear I'll sleep so soundly tonight."
Your grumble made the two laugh.
Alejandro and Rodolfo stayed to help with sorting all the groceries after having a quick chat with Nonno- who you overheard had scolded them and got a TV remote slapped to the you think.
You could only assume from the buttons you could press on Rodolfo's cheeks really.
Either way, you were quite grateful for their help, even when they offered you a ride back to your co-worker's apartment.
You thanked the old couple profusely, and they could only roll their eyes in response, saying that it was not a problem and just go (even though they were the ones tightening their arms around you.)
"You take care kid." Nonno pats your head and bids you farewell kindly.
"Don't forget to come in early tomorrow!" Nonna reminds and bids you farewell not so kindly because of it.
Poking fun at your expression, the two were just so amused by how quickly both you and their parents had become so attached.
"Still can't believe your co-worker would put you in this damn place chiquit@." Rodolfo comments from the hood of the car, as he leans backwards to eye the rundown building that was in front of you three.
You shrugged, pulling closer your purse to look for the keys he gave you with the note.
Right... you couldn't find the note.
Oh, well- you guessed that you lost it in the rain that night.
"Well I had no choice, need a bed to sleep in and a place to call home y'know?"
They both frown at this but made no moves to stop you as you step into the building and ascend the stairs to the apartment.
"Thanks a lot Alejandro, Rodolfo." You smile, giving a little wave while they do the same.
"Just call us if you need anything!" Alejandro shouts and you grin, giving up a thumbs up before leaving their line of sight.
Leaving them to their thoughts.
"This is too suspicious," Rudy mutters, "smells like something is brewing."
Alejandro nods, "and we need to find out just what, amigo."
"That note," Price lifts said paper up and slides onto the middle of the table, "had the logo of a lamb's horn it."
The three men stand in shock, hands slamming on the table.
"Ya' mean..."
"Its him."
"Any other leads?" Gaz asks, now pacing around the room.
"This is the lead," Price points at the paper, "gave up finding the bastard and he willingly shows up." He mutters to himself, hand stroking his beard in thought.
"Boss," Ghost starts, "we need to interrogate her now."
"Oi," Soap counters, "not so fast sir."
"Why not?" Ghost growls.
"'Cause she's a bystander." Price explains, hands both faced down on the table.
"How are you so sure of that?"
"Ghost watch your tone," Gaz warns but backs down with the raised hand of Price.
"Why don't you test her then?" Price turns to Ghost- a knowing grin on his face, "see if you can squeeze out anything for us, hm?"
Ghost nods while Soap protests, but was silenced by both his superiors.
"I'll leave it to you then."
A/N: And that is ch 3 with more to look forwards to in the epilogue! I kinda imagined Alejandro and Rudy to be the more in-tuned characters with the reader, acting as your close friends of sorts while the story progresses so expect to see you interact with them a lot! Many much extra scenes to discuss on that so the update might take longer for that part <//3 Thank you for reading and giving my work some love hehe
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absolutebl · 9 months ago
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Top 10 Best BLs on Gagaoolala
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My Beautiful Man AKA Utsukushii Kare
Japan 2021
One of the most Japanese BLs to release in the last decade, as weird and as messed up as any 2000s yaoi: emo af and hella warped, entirely true to itself with no attempt made to modify its POV for modern sensibilities or current BL fandom. It used seriously old school problematic and kinky tropes, like whipping boy, for a truly uncompromising piece that also manages to hit up themes of communication, consent, and self acceptance. It’s a wonderful BL but uniquely dirty and harsh, in the best possible way - Japanese cinema, uncompromising.
I lost my ever loving mind over the ending. This show won the Grand Prix “My Best TV Award” at the 16th Galaxy Awards.
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Minato's Laundromat AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry
Japan 2022
A classic age gap romance where a high school student pursues the man of his dreams (who runs a laundromat). This BL is so steeped in yaoi nostalgia, not to mention a classic romance arc, that it will overload some, but those of us who love this genre for its DNA will adore it. It made me very happy because it did everything I want a BL to do - there’s not much more I could ask of a show than this. It’s the closest Japan has come to perfect live action yaoi since Seven Days (and I never make that comparison lightly).
Squee watch-along here.
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My Ride
Thai 2022
Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple.
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Takara & Amagi AKA Takara-kun to Amagi-kun
Japan 2022 I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this BL. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes.
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Kiseki: Dear to Me
Taiwan 2023
The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.
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My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan 2023
This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.
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Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku
Japan 2023
A lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the manga (which is very dear to my heart). And they did, paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.
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Step By Step
Thai 2023
This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL).
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Long Time No See
Korea (Strongberry) 2017
Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war who fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blog (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the hidden gems of the BL genre.
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About Youth
Taiwan 2022
A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit.
Some of these shows ALSO appeared on Viki or iQIYI, but these BLs will appear only once on these round up posts (here for Gaga), not on the other platforms top 10.
(source)
This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that aired on Gaga (or was taken off the platform) after that date.
This is part of a series more here:
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the-exiled-comic · 27 days ago
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Is Crowstar really that bad? She killed an apprentice (on accident, while she was also young, if I remember correctly?), a scary tyrannical leader, a weird religious zealot and co. (who all seem pretty antagonistic), and… is blunt? Maybe I’m just desensitized to fictional murder (esp with these cats having a sick afterlife), but she seemed to do most of it in contexts where I can see her point (ex. Defending Fallen in battle, scary leadership, defense). The only part I can really see crowstar being a bad person in bold letters is when she attacks Dapplestar for revenge, but even then.. she has a reason. She believes TreeClan killed her respected friend and deputy, and is lying about it. Idk sorry if this comes across as somebody having to hold my hand that “murder lady is bad”, but in this fictional setting, her actions makes sense
short answer to this is just she likes murdering and murdering is bad. she holds little to no remorse over her actions, really only being somewhat regretful about the things that make her son upset
i dont think Crowstar is morally bankrupt as say, someone like Autumnstar, but a lot of her intentions are in the wrong place. She is also quite unapologetic about her crimes.
a long answer is... complicated. on a scale of evil characters i would put Crowstar on a similar ranking to Sandywing and Emberpelt, those two never killed anyone but they make up for it in other ways. Sandywing I would be tempted to rank more evil than Crowstar but truth be told she only feels like the most evil character because she actively is tormenting the POV character (which I'll come back to this pov mention in a minute) you are right that murder in cat-land is quite a bit different than murder in the real life world, but its more about why they did it how i would personally rank evilness within the comic is like, what their feelings/intent/goals are and also how much influence their actions have and how well the rest of the cats can recover from it.
So Autumnstar would be hands down the most evil cat as he is responsible for (directly and indirectly) responsible for a lot damage that the clans are still undoing. Crowstar, his protege, is not helping it be undone. She's still promoting both tyranny within Oceanclan and aggravation/violence against Treeclan, even though Dapplestar has clearly expressed multiple times they don't want to do this anymore.
Things Crowstar has done to keep this cycle of violence going are killing 4 clanmates as her first act as leader (rebellion is complicated but for the sake of the post I'm adding it because it wasn't clean cut self defense. there were choices, killing them was a conscious choice), smacking and manslaughtering a kid, antagonizing her clanmates, not stopping the fights between coralclaw and sandywing, not giving fishpaw a warrior name, killing dapplestar over a hunch that someone in treeclan killed cloverfall, hitting sandywing for insulting her ego.
I think she would appear a lot more evil if the POV was from Firespots, or even Whisperleaf, as she specifically targets the both of them. She appears to be not as bad because she stopped directly digging at Fishwhisker and seems to be mostly on her side now. She dislikes the same cats that we dislike (Sandywing, Emberpelt, Firespots) and has been trying to turn over a new leaf for the last several chapters. Granted that's pretty much only because her son is going to have to clean up anything that she doesn't clean up if Firespots does succeed in his plans to kill her. I'm very slowly making a prequel comic that explores some perspectives from this generation, doing to comics at once is hard tho lol. So it'll be seen eventually
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homicidal-sheep · 4 months ago
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I will defend Eurylochus to my dying breath because what the fuck yall, he is not the malicious monster people are making him out to be?? Like these characters are so morally grey its not even funny.
I love Ody with all my heart but the man did fuck up. He is human, and a plaything of the Gods, which is a very dangerous position to be in at the best of times.
I've seen people saying Eury has no moral high ground on the Scylla thing because he wanted to leave all the men at Circe's. Now firstly, I highly doubt a simple scouting mission would include all the men (see Cyclops saga, when only a fraction went). So they would be running to save what men remained, not ditching the entire army. Secondly, what exactly did you want them to do when facing Circe? They didn't know Hermes was there. All they knew was there was a magic lady who could turn people into pigs. So what, were they gonna ask really really nicely? Somehow I highly doubt that would work. Without the Gods intervention, I just don't see them winning. Eury was cutting their losses because from his POV, there was quite literally nothing they could do for the men. Best case scenario they snuck the men/pigs out and, idk, kept them as pets??
As for the wind bag, yeah it was a really dumb decision. But Ody is the one who decided not to trust his men, especially Eury. Ody has already given up on the crew, and they likely feel that distrust. Why should they put their blind faith in a man who refuses to clue them in? Why should they believe that he has whats best for them in their hearts? Ody's own guilt caused him to embrace an ideology that got a bunch of them killed. (remember when he said the only one who's lines he hasn't crossed were his own?) And we can see some of this growing resentment in Perimedes cut song. We as viewers have context the men simply do not.
Sidenote, people say Eury would have gotten them lotus'd. Yeah maybe. or maybe Ody would have recognized the fruit before they ate it, like he did with Polites. We cannot know.
The other point I keep seeing, that I find absolutely baffling is "well they deserved to die for mutinying, they should have listened to their king and captain" I'm sorry when did we all become monarchists. Kings and captains can absolutely make bad decisions? We should not blindly trust authority?? Yeah Eury kept questioning the captain. He was second in command and the voice of the crew, not only is he voicing their discontent, I'd argue that a good king should have someone who is willing to disagree with them. While Ody is right, that in the middle of a dire situation isn't great, and it would have been better to address those issues in private, they are very legitimate worries. If your captain has admitted he would burn the world to see his son and wife, I think being a little worried is absolutely fair.
The Gods keep appearing and helping Ody but they are also incredibly dangerous beings who constantly play with the lives of mortals.
On to the cow thing. Ya it was fucking dumb. But I can understand why. The man is fucking tired. They don't see a way out and at that point, starving to death slowly, so desperately afraid, probably sounded like a terrifying fate. Better to get it over with.
And he still cares! Ody is his literal brother in law. They bandaged his wounds when they could have idk, sacrificed him to Posideon or something. What Ody did to them was 100% betrayal and I understand why they mutinied, with what information they had. For petes sake he kept singing "I need to get home", I, not we.
Again, I love Ody, but good lord, the man is the definition of an unreliable narrator. Let them all be complicated, tragic characters without labeling them as cookie cutter good guys and bad guys.
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forestfiresandfics · 2 months ago
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Tragedies
Is third life a tragedy? In literary terms, a tragedy is a specific plot line with its own requirements. It’s not what we think of as a tragedy in the common sense—that is a story with a sad ending. Not all stories with a sad ending are tragedies. 
What distinguishes a tragedy is the protagonists failure. The plot of a tragedy is one where the main character makes choices that will ultimately lead to their downfall. Macbeth pisses off the one person who can kill him, Frankenstein abandons his creation and it becomes resentful, Jason cheats on his sorceress wife and then surprise pikachu face when Medea gets her revenge. It’s the result of an imperfect protagonist, often villain protags, but also anti-heroes or byronic heroes. Really, anyone who has flaws, which is everyone except the paragon archetype. 3rd life is full of imperfect characters making mistakes constantly. But do those mistakes dead to the their own downfall? 
I’ve defined the protagonists before, but for the purpose of this discussion, I want to talk about Grian and Scar separately, since two characters cannot share the same tragedy (it’s their own mistake after all). There are a couple other characters I want to talk about as well, as you might imagine. So what are Grian and Scar’s downfalls? Everyone in 3rd life has one, so what is theirs? For Scar, the answer seems to follow a tragic trope quite solidly, his death is his downfall. But did his mistakes lead him there? Answer: not really! Scar’s greatest ‘mistake’ is his betrayal of his partner. But his death isn’t the result of that. In fact, when he offered his life in apology, Grian doesn’t take it. Scar’s death is actually the result of the two of them being back on better terms. Their relationship can never be what it once was, but they go out crying and laughing and talking about how much fun they had. Scar’s mistakes don’t lead to his death. His redemption does. 
What about Grian? Where is his downfall? There are three moments that could be considered his downfall, being betrayed, killing his partner, and his own death. I think the betrayal is simply the lead up to the real fall, and I think that killing Scar is the real fall—with the suicide being the result of that fall. Do his actions lead him to that conclusion? Answer: sorta? You could argue that his mistake really was getting close to anyone in the first place. He knew he would have to finish the game, so he shouldn’t have let himself get attached to anyone. But his actions aren’t really “mistakes” in the tragic sense, rather, he simply follows the rules of the narrative. Grian more than anyone is simply passively following the plot, rather than being an active member in it. The only part that wasn’t in the plan was having to kill a friend—not just a competitor. So this one is arguable.
Now I talk about Scar and Grian a lot in these discussions of narrative structure, and because as the protagonists, theirs is the POV you are expected to make these assessments from (a tragedy is inherently about the main character, after all. If an antagonist falls, that’s simply comeuppance). But I do still want to talk about the primary antagonist: Ren. And it’s because his storyline really is a perfect tragedy. He starts out just trying to survive, he sets up a business, tries to gather resources and alliances that way, gets dragged along by Martyn who has to show him how to survive. But as things start going well for him, he gets the idea to expand. He has lots of allies now, lots of supplies, why not get everyone in on this? Ren’s hubris leads him to splitting the server in two, and though at first they dominate the fight, each battle they lose a little bit more. His actions have brought once-enemies together all for the sake of defeating him, and he is killed by the person he was trying to protect himself from. His mistake was forcing the partnerships into larger alliances, and it lead directly to his downfall—his death and the death of his kingdom. It’s a very neat and tidy tragedy.
The other notable tragedy is Scott’s. His mistake comes quite late, and his downfall comes immediately after. He does well, plays it smart all the way up until Jimmy dies. And then he loses his head a little. Goes after revenge over anything else. He doesn’t wait for other allies to join him, doesn’t stick with the group as they are gearing up for a larger fight. No, he simply goes to kill Skizz on his own (with Joel, who happened to be there), and then gets killed alone and surrounded. His mistake was simple—going for revenge instead of working with the alliance. But It gets worse when you consider his pact with Cleo. He hadn’t wanted to leave his partner, but he did have a plan B if anything ever happened. And instead of leaning on that plan B, he gets himself killed for revenge. And Cleo ends up dying alone too, doing something similar. So with Scott, we see a more subtle tragedy. 
There are a few more individual POVs that have tragedies included too. But more are just sad. Impulse playing the field, making everyone question where his loyalties are, only to then prove to be strongly loyal to his original alliance—and then HE is the one betrayed? What are heartache. BigB relying on agreements made earlier, before the war, and ending up with an audience as he gets killed instead? Devastating. But not tragedies in the strict sense. 
And similarly, neither is the cactus ring a capital T Tragedy. No one’s mistakes lead them there. Their love and their loyalty did. They overcame everything together, and ended up at the end together. The fact that no matter what they did, this couldn’t be avoided, that this was ordained, that it was fate. That is what makes the cactus ring so heartfelt. They did everything right, at least in the end, and they still ended up here, in a bloody duel to the death. 
Masterlist
By the way, anyone can add to this series if you want! Tag it 3rd life literary analysis, and the one rule is you gotta treat it like a proper analysis haha
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