#he's forced to care about people he knows he shouldn't care about because of his code
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Just saw this post and wow I'm disgusted.
So usually I don't do this type of thing as I find it weird but I wasn't gonna reblog this person because I'm someone doesn't want drama. Also for anyone wondering I have blocked them because I don't like their page and mostly because of this post.
So let's start!
Viserys didn't get "bad vibes" he was a neglectful father who forced these children onto his 14 year old wife and then left her. I don't want want here that he was king or that they weren't Aemma’s. Because firstly we know Viserys was there for Rhaenyra so obviously he can find time for his children he just chooses not to do so with the green children. Also the whole they weren't from Aemma argument is funny to me as in the book it is heavily implied Viserys was cheating on Aemma with Alicent (also implied she didn't want it) so obviously it isn't that they aren't from Aemma.
Next this sentence alone shows how TBs can't understand Aegons character. They hate Alicent for hitting him but then want him hit more? Make it make sense. Also yes Alicent hitting Aegon is awful. But you need to keep in mind each time she does she's in high stress situations and we see she wants to hurt Viserys instead. Ie Rhaenyra trying to betroth Helaena to Jace, Aemond losing his eye, Aegon raping a maid. I'm not excusing these actions as they are wrong, I'm only stating you need to see the whole picture before judging the painting.
I truly believe Luc shouldn't have taken Aemonds eye I don't care how scared he was it was cruel and uncalled for. I don't care if he was 6 he had enough time to notice Jace threw sand into Aemonds eye before slicing Aemonds face. Plus he didn't even try and aim for a arm or leg because he could've from where he was on the ground. He chose to stand up and slice Aemonds eye as he already couldn't see to defend himself and I will always say Luc is in the wrong and should have been punished for what he did.
I have made many posts about Helaena, in fact I made one today. But let's go over this again. Helaena had no reason to run to Rhaenyra. She had no reason to trust her nor did Rhaenyra have reason to trust Helaena. Helaena is MARRIED to Aegon, that is her Brother, her Husband, and the Father of her children. I don't care how you all think it was Helaena did the right thing. She chose the people who loved her and cared for her over a woman who in book bad mouthed her and ridiculed her and her siblings in front of all the court.
Now I am done with my rant have a nice day.
#house of the dragon#hotd#team green#pro team green#anti team black#anti tb stans#anti team black stans#anti rhaenyra stans#anti rhaenyra targaryen#anti lucerys velaryon#pro aegon ii targaryen#pro aemond targaryen#pro helaena targaryen#anti viserys targaryen#rant post#angry rant#queen helaena#helaena targaryen#pro alicent hightower#queen alicent#alicent hightower#aegon targaryen ii#king aegon#aegon ii#aegon ii targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon the second#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen
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it's kind of heartbreaking to think that the only reason eclipse cares any more than the previous versions of himself is because solar's code is embedded within him...were it truly him, he wouldn't have changed. it's only because of solar's code that he's only slightly better than his predecessors...the only reason he entertained lunar's attempt at reconcilation, the only reason he spoke with earth...
#random#ruin knows too#if you saw today's episode where ruin mentions earth and eclipse goes 'don't bring her into this'#eclipse frequently disrespected her on numerous occasions as himself#although he did attempt to appeal to her that one time#but the reason that he actually cares-even to the slightest degree?#that's solar's code#and that kind of thing is really depressing#because if it was really him#he probably wouldn't be the way he is now#the only reason he has the capacity to feel any sort of emotion beyond anger and bitterness is because he feels someone else's#he's forced to care about people he knows he shouldn't care about because of his code#were it not for solar eclipse probably wouldn't have this redemption arc#aherm#anyways
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apologies, i'm still angry abt TUA S4
so, if we take out all of the blatant issues with the season (character assassination, 'resolutions' that create more plotholes than they solve, rushed scenes that make no sense, side plots that go nowhere, raymond vanishing for no reason, etc etc), what are we left with? let's see:
fatphobia (multiple jokes made about 'chubby Diego', when David just looks hydrated and healthy)
SA played for jokes (it's clear that Klaus having sex while possessed is supposed to be funny, but he's being held hostage and forced to do this for money, when we already know he didn't even want his powers back??)
cheating
problematic / borderline problematic age gaps (either way you spin it, either Five is physically 20-26 while Lila is likely mid 40s, or Five is mentally 70s while Lila is mid 40s; Aidan was 19 while filming, and Ritu was 34)
waiting for the actor to come of age before introducing a romance (we already know what some fans can be like over Five/Aidan, this will not have helped; I would be horrified if I found out the show runners had planned a romance arc with a coworked 15 years older than me and then waited for me to turn legal age to execute it)
sexism (i was reluctant to call it that but i also don't know what else to call it - Lila basically had her agency stripped away to become the love interest two men fought over; Steve wanted Five to have a romance and didn't care who with - use Lila simply because she was there)
complete disregard of character trauma (Klaus being buried alive despite it having been mentioned in every prior season that he was locked in a mausoleum by Reginald, including literally being left to die)
possible overstepping of an actor's boundaries (i've not been able to verify this, but i've seen it said that robert sheehan has requested not to do sex scenes?) (still havent been able to prove this; wasn't an issue with other roles so... hesitant to leave it)
actors requests being ignored (David asked multiple times if the Lila cheating sideplot was required, but clearly it went ahead anyway)
bad cgi
that awful vomit montage
Reginald (im not quite calling it abuse forgiveness but uh. it's not far off tbh)
i don't even know what to call this, but basically told the Hargreeves the abuse they suffered was their fault because they shouldn't even exist??
what did i miss? (im sure there's something)
from the replies:
the song in the ep3 dance scene uses a slur for romani people (and is also about a man and an underage girl)
SA dismissal (it's literally never addressed that Allison SA'd Luther last season. like, at all. everything's just a-okay now!)
more sexism (Allison's arc was also reduced to serving men; there's a single line to explain that Ray left, with no mention of why (i could go OFF about this but this post isn't supposed to be about mishandling of characters); even after everything, all her bonding with Claire comes through Klaus's storyline. also, Sloane is just gone and nobody gives a shit - Luther has one line and that's it??)
so many issues with consent (all of the girls shown in the place Klaus works look drugged / Klaus doesn't want to be there and doing any of that, it's all against his wishes / they all get their powers back against their wishes - although they do tell Ben that wasn't his choice to make / Klaus gets his powers back against his will when Allison is pressured to do it to save his life)
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Jsyk your guidelines say they're closed, so probably why no one's requesting.
Anyway, pervert konig? Standard stealing your lingerie and pretending like he has no idea how it's under his pillow or in his hands or in his drawer. Tripping over himself to help you apply sunscreen or lotion or wash your back, anything to feel your skin.
cw: perversion, reader into it, disgusting stuff maybe.
könig is a right perv, and he can't really do anything about this fact, he tried really hard to restrain this unfamiliar desire and unquenchable, almost aching craving, curling deep in his gut and affecting not only his wandering thoughts and fantasies, but also his now always aching cock, stirring at just a little glimpse towards you, it's hard to blame himself when you're always so attractive, gracing him with little smiles and soft uttered greetings, as if on purpose.
though, you have no idea what's happens in the head of your silly roommate, he's just some awkwardly cute man you live with, polite, preferring to stay silent most of the time, either because of all the military thing he gone through, or just because he's not really socially accustomed, a thing that clung to him from the childhood, but you didn't really push for details, he is who he is, and you don't have any problems.
könig can land a helpful hand in cooking, help you with cleaning around the small apartment, he's at your side even if you struggle with something personal, your head and body aching from pushing too much through your own life, and his eyes all wide and concerned, saxe blues gazing at you when he tilts his head in front of your face, gravelly, heavy with accent words asking what made you so sad, as he fidgets with his hands, nervous, yet so caring.
maybe, he gets mixed signals because of how sweet you are towards him, you can't blame the poor guy, he doesn't often gets that close to people, and you don't refuse könig's calloused, rugged touch when he moves you by the curve of your waist from his way, or digs his meaty fingers in the achy muscles of your shoulders, making your eyes flutter up at him, a pitched, honeyed spoken plea not to stop pouring from your lips, forcing him to swallow down a groan.
könig really, really shouldn't use your kindness like that, sneaking into your room and plucking the first panties he can feel from the drawer of your closet, stuffing them in the pocket of his sweats like a last coward on the earth, stalking back to his own room high on his toes both from excitement and a dull throb his cock gives in response, already soaking pre through the fabric of his boxers.
fisting his rudy, swollen cock through the flimsy, cotton panties, soiling them with endlessly leaking precum and repeatedly spurts of cum, going more watery by the time, even with his tip so so rudy and sensitive, veins webbed all over the girth, thick and bulging, but he can't stop bucking his hips in tight coil of his fist, whining and almost sobbing at the intense, searing pleasure, babbling your name under his nose strained and desperate.
you find them couple of days later, when deciding to do a general cleaning and refresh the laundry, digging your hands in the basket and scooping up everything you can grab, except, some of the small things, like socks, tops and underwear, always manage to fall beneath your feet, so after getting your hands empty, filling the washing machine, you bend down and pick up what managed to escape.
curling a finger in your panties, you catch up on the sight of the gusset all crumpled, soiled milky with dried, crusting cum, and you know, for sure, that it's not your trick, there's no one to be blamed except the man you've gone comfortably familiar with, high and muscular, having those adorable, trusting eyes, a person you can rely on, ending up being such a pathetic perv, yet, somehow, your tummy suddenly flutters.
you don't fear to confront him about it, könig was just right busy sorting his own clothes in the room, checking what needed to be refreshed, when the door bangs abruptly behind him, and he turns around a little surprised, immediately meeting to face your panties, that same, ruined pair, now hanging off your finger, proof of his guilt, and he can't utter a word except a hitched gasp, bright flush high and feverish on his cheekbones, voice stammering.
normally, you should have shouted at him, kicked him out, maybe even called the police, but könig get's punished by your own hands, with his knees digging into the rough floor surface of his room, your form sitting on the edge of his comfortable bed, legs spread wide, obscene, to show him how you finger your cunt beneath your underwear, leaving him looking.
panting and whimpering at the squelching sounds, unable to see your tight, soppy hole, because he's been naughty, deciding to steal and act like a pervert instead of telling you about his silly crush, so now, könig would sit obediently like one, just looking as you wrench an orgasm out of yourself by crisscrossing your fingers, chastising him with breathy moans, watching through lidded eyes how he rolls his hips and gazes inseparably between your twitching thighs, fascinated and utterly struck.
main masterlist. quidelines.
#𐔌 . 𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 .ᐟ#konig smut#konig x female reader#könig smut#könig x fem reader#konig fluff#konig x reader smut#konig comfort#könig fluff#könig drabble#konig x reader#könig x you#könig x reader#konig x you#konig mw2#konig call of duty#cod konig#konig headcanons#konig hcs#könig headcanons#konig cod#könig cod#roommate!könig#pervert!könig
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18+ Perv! Steve Harrington x Perv! reader, F reader, friends to lovers, scent kink, reader being a bit of a creep but Steve's into it because duh, masturbation (f) sexual acts in public, mentions of and allusions to oral sex (f)
WC: 5K
A/N: I was going to split this into two parts but fuck it. Two for one special. Still feeling rusty when it comes to writing so go easy on me, yeah? Also, this one's kind of gross at times. Just a little bit. Nothing extreme but just letting you know incase you're someone who gets squeamish easily. Enjoy!
The hair? sure. Everyone liked his hair.
People usually fell into two camps when it came to Steve Harrington's signature do; either they envied it or they hoped to be one of the lucky ones who got to run their fingers through it.
You used to daydream about the latter when you only knew him from afar but now that he no longer ran with a particular kind of crowd, now that he's just Steve and no longer the King, you managed to get close enough to find out that he smelled nice too.
Really nice.
So, figuring out that he used women's shampoo shouldn't have been the revelation that it was because it made so much sense, his tresses never scented with a wintry pine or spicy cedarwood like most scent profiles marketed to men.
You had your friends to thank for your stumbling upon that discovery, the group of them arriving at your home to bully you out of your PJ's and into a pair of jeans and shoes, uprooting you from your room on a Saturday afternoon for an outing to the fancy part of the mall.
While they searched for new make-up, you wandered a section of the store by yourself, uncapping the pretty bottles in the hair care aisle whenever the sales assistants' attention wandered elsewhere, squeezing each one carefully to sample the array of scents. You did this idly and with no real plans to purchase anything, just something to pass the time while your friends crowded another display a few aisles away, chattering blissfully and swatching lipsticks.
Picking up a fifth shampoo from the lineup of bottles, you brought the uncapped rim up to your face, lightly skimming your cupids bow with it as you gently inhaled. While fun, you'd spent most of your time at the mall feeling a little bored, a small part of you still desiring to go back home where you could lounge and laze in peace. That was until you began to recognize the scent of the newest shampoo you had clutched in your hand, the familiarity of it triggering a whirlpool of memories.
In seconds, your mind plunged back to the night of Jack Sullivan's graduation party. The first time Steve Harrington had spoken to you – really spoken to you since he’d parted ways with Carol and Tommy, seeming much more approachable than he had in the past.
The two of you had ended up sharing the patio swing outside where the air wasn't as thick with smoke and the smell of spilled booze. Making conversation, he offered you a beer he'd originally intended to give Robin before she'd slipped away into one of the guest bathrooms with your best friend Sally. You both knew why, sharing a look of understanding but never mentioning the obvious out loud out of loyalty to your friends.
Then there was the only day it rained in July, remembering the way your fingers brushed against his as you handed him your umbrella. You'd discovered him taking refuge under the awning of the diner you worked at that morning, face twisted all worrisome as he looked up from his wristwatch to the downpour in front of him, forced into walking to work that day due to his car still being in the shop. The only light that shone that day was the gleaming smile he gave you when he thanked you for your kindness.
And then there was the time when you had your head down while scanning a tape at Family Video, bumping face first into Steve's chest when you rounded the corner, his name tag catching on your bottom lip. It was the tiniest sliver of a cut, barely noticeable or painful but oh, how he fussed over you like you were made of porcelain. He’d gone so far as to sit you down on his chair behind the counter as if you might collapse from blood loss at any moment, whizzing into the break room and back with a fist full of napkins to dab the miniscule wound that had already stopped bleeding.
All of those memories and more linked by one scent. This scent.
With your pupils dilating like a cat prepared to pounce, you flipped the bottle over to read the contents.
White frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze and sunkissed musk.
Steve Harrington in a bottle. And the quickest 16 dollars you've ever spent.
And with that purchase came the self-imposed reminder to exercise caution. Upon leaving the mall with your friends, your mood much chipper than when you'd arrived, you made sure to hardly ever use the shampoo when you bathed, afraid that if Steve smelled it on you later, somehow, he'd be able to put the pieces together and know why you'd bought it, even as wildly unlikely as that seemed.
So instead, you huffed the bottle in private on most days, only using it when you knew you'd be spending the day at home. On those eagerly awaited days you luxuriated in the scent as you applied the shampoo in your shower, mind and fingers wandering, working your peaked nipples and your firm clit up to the thought of Steve joining you in your shower and fucking you dumb – tits pressed up against the cold, wet tiles, ass bouncing on his hips as he stretched you open and used you well.
But now that you'd discovered this new kind of hunger you had to make sure to keep it well fed and when the shampoo didn't feel like enough anymore, you set out to purchase his cologne.
The scent was one you had memorized from all of your trips to the video store, hanging around the counter while Steve talked to you about which movie you ought to rent next. You could smell it on his neck whenever he leaned in close on his elbows, face inches away from yours, wishing he'd close the distance and meet your lips with his.
Another trip to the mall had you scouring the men's section like a wolf tracking the scent of injured prey, sampling bottle after bottle of cologne until you found it.
Aromatic sage, dark tonka bean and rich sandalwood. Priced at a cool $39.50 which you gladly forked over because to you, it was all money well spent.
The cologne became part of your nightly routine after that, dabbing drops of the heady scent on your body when you went to bed, the smell making your arousal climb before lulling you to sleep an orgasm later, evoking dreams of Steve throughout the night that made you wake up to your panties all damp and sticking to your core by morning.
You were content that way, the shampoo and the cologne enough to satiate your fixation on the way Steve smelled all while managing to maintain your friendship with him without things becoming weird.
What ended up shattering that peace however was running into him a few weeks later coming out of the Y, just done with a game of basketball as he spotted you passing by and happily waved you down.
He smiled at you just as brightly as he had all those months ago in July, this time dressed in his gym clothes; a pair of green shorts that showed off the thickness of his toned, hairy thighs and a grey t-shirt, the sleeves filled out well by his tanned biceps and its collar darkened by sweat.
Up close, you could smell the exertion on him and that was what became your undoing.
It took every iota of self-control not to rush him to the ground and pin him beneath you, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer the conversation went on and you were forced to compose yourself.
It was the kind of scent you wanted to sink into, more so than the cologne or the shampoo because this was Steve completely unadulterated – that earthy musk, that rugged, almost spicy all-natural scent that you wouldn't be able to find on any shelf.
Barely managing to hold it together until parting ways with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to rest without it, mind already working to devise a plan.
~
"Risve- what?"
You chuckled as the word died on Steve's tongue, knowing he'd trip up on the pronunciation. Reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper sitting on the counter, you wrote the word down for him. "Risvegli. It's Italian", you explain, handing it to him as you do your best to repress the shiver that runs through you when his slender fingers graze yours, trying hard to quieten your mind after all the ways you’ve imagined those very fingers touching you in your most sensitive places.
"It's kind of an obscure flick but I like that sort of stuff. D'you think you could have a look and see if you've got a copy in the back?", you try not to bat your lashes too much when you ask, not wanting to overplay the sweetness to the point that it comes off as insincere or worse, suspicious.
Steve looks down to study the paper, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, you can’t help but notice. The ends of his hair are still damp from his shower at the Y, just as you expected now that you knew which days he spent there before clocking in for work.
"For you? Definitely", he looked back up and smiled at you in that way that made your heart somersault. "Be right back". He leaves you alone at the counter and you make sure to wait for him to disappear out of sight into the back, stamping down a flash of guilt for having sent him off to search for a movie that didn't exist to buy you time.
You'd planned it all last night, stepping away from the counter before heading towards the employee break room, able to sneak in without fear of running into Robin because you knew she'd be spending the day with Sally on her day off from working at the diner.
Steve’s duffle bag is in plain view as you shut the door to the little room behind you quietly, resting on a chair that'd been pulled out from the table where you imagined he probably shared his lunch breaks with Robin.
Striding up to it, you find the zipper and tentatively, you pull it open to reveal the contents. What you're looking for is balled up at the very top, picking up the sweat damp t-shirt with clammy, trembling fingers. You're really crossing a line this time and you know it, your teeth close to piercing the soft skin of your bottom lip as you bite down on it but you can't deny that there's just something so exhilarating about the whole thing too. The lying, the sneaking around, the risk – it's all a little too much and your mind grows foggy with it, dulling your once sharp intuition and giving way to a moment of weakness that has you abandoning caution now that you're alone.
Waiting to do indulge your urges until you're safe at home feels impossible now that you've got your hands on it, eagerly pressing your nose into the damp t-shirt, eyes nearly rolling back as you filled your lungs with the smell of him. It must have been the pheromones, it had to be, awakening that primal kind of desire in you that had you parting your lips and pressing the tip of your tongue to one of the sweat stains, sucking on the sour, salty musk that had soaked into the cotton.
What you're doing is so dirty, damn near repulsive and knowing that just fuels you even more as you begin to salivate. You're too wrapped up in the earthy scent of him, too lost in the taste to notice when the door handle jiggles behind you, too drunk on the sick thought of what Steve’s used boxers must smell like if you were to pull those out of his duffle next when all of a sudden, it's too late.
The door to the break room swings open and in walks Steve, the world screeching to a sickening standstill when his eyes fall on you.
Your own eyes bulging, you watch in mute horror as he takes in the sight before him, the scrap of paper you'd handed him earlier slipping from between his thumb and forefinger, fluttering to the floor like the wings of a dying butterfly.
It's impossible to know what he's thinking. Is it disgust? if so, he hid it well. Bewilderment? You weren't sure. Ice crackles over your bones as the two of you stare for a few seconds longer, Steve's expression still unreadable.
The whole thing's all the more uncomfortable because of the way he continues to watch you like you’re something to be studied, looking contemplative as you trembled in place, wishing for the ground to break open beneath your feet and swallow you away into a never-ending crevasse.
But as the seconds tick by and the ground stays perfectly intact you're left to seek your own respite.
Despite what feels like the blood retreating from your veins, your body shifts into auto pilot as you wordlessly place the rumpled t-shirt back in Steve's duffel and do the only thing you can do in a fucked up situation like this – walk away. Even as he tries to call after you, you ignore his shouts, continuing on a path towards and out the exit, mortified.
You don't go back to Family Video after that. In fact, you avoid that entire street for a whole week.
The days following being caught out by Steve were some of the worst you've had to endure. Shame made a home in your body, making you ache with a belly full of thorns and your thoughts growing increasingly heavy and abrasive as they flood your throbbing head.
For those seven days you carried around the dread of knowing that Steve had discovered that secret side of you, the feeling worsening at the thought of him telling others what he had seen and rendering you some kind of town pariah – even though a tiny, hopeful whisper inside your raucous head told you that he probably hadn't said anything, at least not yet since Sally hadn't even seemed to have gotten word of the incident from Robin.
But that's all it was. A tiny, fleeting whisper that did nothing to calm you.
At home, you buried yourself in your blankets, letting your anxieties exhaust you to sleep and at work you moved as if you were fighting your way through thick slurry – slow and dragging your body from table to table, unsmiling as you took patrons' meal orders and served them their food.
You continued like that all throughout your shift, waiting for the moment you could peel your polyester uniform off in favour of your own clothes and drive yourself home. With only 30 minutes left before closing, your shoulders which had been pulled tight all day with tension began to sag, a momentary wash of relief coursing through you. That was until you smelled it – smelled him.
Whipping around, your stomach plummets when your eyes fall on Steve walking through the door – and to make things worse, he’s carrying that duffle on his shoulder.
He's yet to have spotted you, taking a seat at one of the empty booths though you notice the way his eyes are scanning the diner, searching.
It's obvious that you’re the one he’s looking for as worry courses down your spine like a lightning strike. Was he going to confront you? right here? in front of all these people? Normally you wouldn’t peg Steve as someone who’d do something so cruel but after what he’d caught you doing, a little public humiliation doesn’t seem all that undeserved, you had to admit.
So, carefully you retreat into the breakroom without drawing his attention, pulling a perplexed Sally along with you once you'd caught hold of her by her elbow.
Once safely inside, you all but blubber in her face, begging her to wait on Steve's table, even promising her all your tips for the next week in exchange.
Seeing the distress contorting your face must have made her feel sorry for you because she pulls you in for a quick, tight hug, running her hand up and down your back in an attempt to calm you. You'd only given her little snippets of what had happened at the video store, making sure to alter a few details for the sake of concealing how far you’d actually gone that day. To her, the gist of it was that you'd embarrassed yourself horribly and that was all she really needed to know, springing into action as the compassionate best friend to the rescue.
"I've got it, okay? just breathe", she'd repeated soothingly into your hair, giving you a quick squeeze and her best reassuring smile before you reluctantly unwind your hands from around her, allowing her to step out of the break room ahead of you.
Outside again, thirty minutes drag on like hours while you purposely stick to the part of the diner that's furthest away from Steve's table. You don't dare look at him but you do sneak a glance when Sally walks by with his order, a single black coffee and nothing else which he sips leisurely while you tremble.
If his plan was to confront you then what the hell was he waiting for? There was nothing stopping him from walking up to you while sweat collects between your shoulder blades as you clear the tables of customers who’ve settled their bill and since left. Nothing to prevent him from stepping up to the counter while you nervously rubbed the surface of it free of crumbs and stains to demand an explanation for your bizarre behavior last week. Nothing to stop him from simply walking up to you at any moment and ask to know what the fuck your deal was.
But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he finishes his coffee and casually waves down Sally for the bill while smiling politely. Somehow that causes you even more unease.
In that moment you lose sight of Steve when you’re called over to serve the only other table of customers left, a family of five keen to fit in one last round of milkshakes before they call an end to their meal.
You see to their order despite your shaking limbs, returning with a tray crowded with the cold, sweet drinks, setting each one down carefully in front of the smiling children and their parents before you head back behind the counter with your tray clutched close to your chest. The whole thing must have taken you ten minutes and when you sneak one more look in Steve’s direction you find his booth empty this time.
Eyes frantically searching the diner, you manage to catch a final glimpse of him walking out the front door, bell chiming above him as he departs, leaving the diner and you with even more questions than you had when he'd first arrived.
Had Steve changed his mind? Had he just wanted to make you sweat for the hell of it? Taken pleasure in watching you try to keep it together in his presence while you traipsed around the diner all too carefully like a petrified newborn deer?
Why had he shown up at all today if he wasn’t going to...do anything?
You get your answer fifteen minutes later when wearily, you trudge into the staff room at the end of your shift, pulling open your locker and all but fainting at the sight of what’s been placed inside beside your belongings.
Neatly folded inside is Steve's grey t-shirt, the same one you'd tried unsuccessfully to "borrow" last week The scent of him is instantly recognizable as you inhale shakily, fingers reaching out to touch the slightly damp cotton to confirm to yourself that you weren’t in fact hallucinating the whole thing.
When your pulse starts to settle and the static crackling in your ears starts to cease you notice a little scrap of folded paper placed inside too. Picking it up and pulling it open, it's with a deep, dreamy sigh that your chest blooms with sunny warmth as you read the note, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in a week.
Three months later...
The only good thing about working the graveyard shift at the diner was that Steve always insisted on coming in an hour before you clocked out so he could drive you home.
Occupying one of the booths inside the sleepy diner, he'd keep himself busy with his phone while you worked, perking up whenever you came by to freshen up his coffee or sneak him a piece of pie he hadn't ordered with all his favorite fixings.
It was during those moments that he liked to have a little fun with you, quickly surveying the room to make sure no customers or staff were looking over in your direction before he'd slip his fingers under your skirt and pinch your ass. Sometimes you'd see it coming and other times he'd catch you off guard, cruel delight curling his lips into a smirk whenever you had to stifle your surprised squeals.
And that's as far as he usually took, patiently waiting until he could get you in his car for more but today felt different.
With no new customers coming in in the last two hours, Sally had taken to the break room to work in a nap while the kitchen staff had stepped out back to smoke and deal cards to pass the time. That left just you working the front with Steve as the diner's only patron.
Having no one else around meant you could flirt freely with him now, making sure to look over your shoulder every now and then just incase to make sure you didn't get caught.
You spent that time alone together with his boot gently tapping against your shoe under the table, reaching out and fiddling with his fingers because you always liked to be touching him while you happily teased each other as the minutes passed by.
Somewhere in the middle of your playful banter you noticed Steve's cup was now empty, picking yourself up from the booth to bring over more coffee. As you leaned over the edge of the table to pour, you anticipated the glide of his fingers on your thigh, inching up your skirt to situate them between your legs.
"You're going to get me fired one of these days", you chide him, still holding on to the pot of coffee once you'd finished refilling his cup.
"Good – then I can have you all to myself", he teased back, index finger drawing patterns on your inner thigh, just a few inches below the lacy trim of your panties.
"Steve", you attempt to scold but there's barely any heat there for him to take it seriously, fingers daring to trail higher.
Meeting his heavy gaze, you watch him search your eyes for a moment, the soft smirk that had been tugging at the corner of his lips slowly fading away as something more serious clouds his expression when he leans forward to whisper to you.
"No one's around, baby. Please? Can I?"
It takes you a second before you know exactly what he's asking for without needing him to specify, heat rising up from the depths of your chest and gathering in your cheeks.
He's got that look in his eyes too and you know that this is what it must have looked like the day he caught you with your face buried in his sweaty t-shirt. That feverish glint of potent want making his iris' gleam.
"Steve, it's too risky", you try to reason quietly despite the way your thighs are already parting for him, allowing him to skim the pads of his fingers over the seat of your panties, teasing your waiting folds through the thin later of fabric.
"Never stopped you before", he's quick to reply with wink, making you grow warmer at the reminder.
He's got you beat there.
"I promise I'll be quick", he pleads again softly and it's almost comical how quickly you buckle under the weight of his needy gaze.
"Shit, okay", you concede as you step closer to the edge of the booth and he pulls himself closer too, hand moving higher to cup your ass under your skirt.
You sigh contently when Steve leans forward and presses his nose against the front of your uniform, right over the juncture between your legs. You're careful to keep your grip tight on the handle of the coffee pot you're still carrying when he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent right through your clothes.
Steve liked to joke that you brought out this side of him, the one that made the both of you realize how alike you really were.
It started with the way he liked to linger between your legs after he'd finished eating you out. Your ruined panties spilled out of his back pocket, never to be returned to you as he took his time pressing sweet kisses against your swollen folds and spent clit with his sticky lips, clearly pleased with himself as you fought to catch your breath from the orgasm that'd rippled through you.
And as things progressed, he wasn't secretive about wanting to fuck you so hard and often that the smell of you would linger in the air long after you were done. Or how he liked to nestle his nose in the curls on your mound once he'd finished laving at your pussy – the moreish combination of sweat, saliva and your natural musk making his twitching cock stiffen all over again as he rut into the mattress for a second time, painting his sticky boxers with another generous load.
Other times he'd get on his knees for you, pulling you close by your hips so he could place his face against your clothed cunt and mumble dreamy praises about how good your pussy smelled. And you always loved it when he got like that, even now as your free hand strokes lazily through his caramel hair, letting him do this to you in the middle of your place of work, your coworkers unaware but not far away enough that they couldn't walk in at any moment and find the two of you like this.
"Stevie", you whined softly as you tried to get his attention, a reluctant reminder that the two of you should probably stop before it's too late.
"Jus' a little more, please? need it to tide me over before I can get you alone". His eyes are all glazed over when he looks up at you, tentatively slipping his other hand up the front of your thigh to hitch up the hem of your skirt ever so slightly, his gaze all pleading as he waits for your permission.
With the way he's managed to work you up, your panties more that a little tacky from his attention and your belly tightening with warmth, how could you possibly refuse when you needed this just as badly as he did?
"Fuck. Yes, okay – just be careful", you urge gently because 'be quick' doesn't seem likely anymore.
A look of pure bliss breaks out on his reddening face. "Christ. Thank you, baby", Steve groans appreciatively, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties before burying his face against your clothed mound. He can feel the outline of your cunt perfectly when he's this close – so soft and plump, his mounting greed has him battling the urge to pull the soaked cotton down to your knees and start sucking the tangy slick from your pretty, swollen pussy lips before pressing deeper to lick at your tight hole and all it has to offer.
Restraining himself, he lets out a muffled moan against your core that has your clit swelling and throbbing, your eyes slipping shut while you give yourself to him. It's almost soothing the way he savors you so shamelessly, head partially ducked underneath your rucked up skirt, fingers gently squeezing your ass with his blunt nails making light indents in your skin.
You let him breathe you in for a while longer until you begin to feel a little floaty and more than a little needy from it all, expecting Steve to pull away soon because how much longer could you get away with doing this in public? Stopping him isn't what you want, not really but you knew better than to push your luck by now.
But instead of him reluctantly withdrawing away from you, what you feel next is the wet drag of his tongue along your messy panties, warm, firm and sudden.
Although definitely not unwelcome, under the circumstances, the feeling of it startles you and you can't help but cry out with a yelp, arm jerking backwards as a splash of coffee makes its way onto the checkered diner floor.
Hearts hammering, the both of you rip apart from each other then, Steve with his wide eyes and ruffled hair as he plasters himself to his seat while you very nearly lose what's left of your balance when your shoes skid over the wet mess of spilled coffee. You manage to catch yourself though when you grab the edge of his table with your free hand, finally placing the damn coffee pot down to hurriedly pull your skirt back into place.
Silence overtakes the room as the both of you peer wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen and breakroom, waiting to see if you'd accidentally drawn the attention of any nearby diner staff.
Seconds turn into a minute and when no one comes through either of the doors you allow yourself to sigh out in relief, turning back to Steve.
"Shit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it – had to taste you, honey. You just – fuck, you just smell so fucking good. I needed a little more", he tries to explain when your eyes connect, his cheeks sheened with a thin layer of perspiration and flushed a deep pink.
You were foolish to think you could let him do all of that and endure waiting until the end of your shift to take things further in his car. Leaving him with his lips parted and his jaw slack, you stride away to the diner's entrance to quickly flip the 'open' sign over to read 'closed', rushing back to tug Steve up and out of his seat urgently, grinning when you catch sight of the stiff bulge straining in his jeans.
"Supply closet. Now. Need you to put that mouth of yours to good use."
#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#stranger things#steve harrington x reader
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I'm not done talking about how stupid of a take that 'Stolas is selfish because he chose Blitz over Octavia' is.
But this time, I want to talk about the implications that Blitz being executed has.
Let's start with the I.M.P crew, Loona loses her loving father, who she very clearly cares a lot for, Moxxie and Millie lose their best friend and their jobs at the same time, as the asmodean crystal is registered in specifically Blitz's name, meaning that Blitz dying means the human killing business dies with it, because they have no other reliable options for getting to the living world. Fizzarolli loses his best friend as well that he only recently got back into his life.
Plus, Blitz being executed would just send Satan's message loud and clear to all of imp-kind, which basically amounted to 'We'll kill you if you step out of line. We'll kill you if you even attempt to rise above your station we forced upon you. We'll kill you if you ever dare to challenge our power and authority. We'll kill you if you aren't our little obedient puppets.'
Stolas knows that Blitz is a father, Stolas knows that the Asmodean Crystal is registered in Blitz's name, and if chose to let Blitz die, he'd have to live with the fact that his choice caused so much suffering and pain to others, including to other people Stolas knows Blitz cares about deeply, showing that the stakes have always been much higher than just 'Blitz vs Octavia', even for Stolas.
Stolas went into that trial fully expecting to be killed, Stolas went into that trial assuming that Blitz would eventually be okay after his death, to allow Blitz to keep his found family and keep being able to provide for himself and others with I.M.P, to allow Blitz to keep making that name for himself.
You might be thinking at this point, 'but wait, then why did Stolas mention his daughter after he lost his powers and such then?', and I have the answer to that question right here.
Again, Stolas went into that trial fully expecting to be executed, and in s1 e2, during that song Stolas sang to Octavia as a kid, Stolas says "When I'm gone, you'll be okay…", which is quite literally saying that Octavia will be okay, even in the event of Stolas' death, which I'm pretty confident in saying that Stolas genuinely believes in this. I just don't think that Stolas factored in Stella and Andrealphus being abusive and manipulative towards Octavia specifically, which I believe perfectly explains why Stolas only mentioned Octavia after he got his actual punishment.
Plus, Stolas knew that Octavia would inherit everything of his in the case of his own death, because he literally ensured that everything and I mean everything would pass to Octavia, as Andrealphus bluntly points in s2 e4, alongside giving Octavia the chance to experience happiness, to be able to choose happiness, even when he's dead.
Finally, I shouldn't even need to say this but,
1: We all know that Stolas would literally sacrifice everything for Octavia, he literally was sacrificing his own happiness for so many years so that Octavia could live a 'normal life'.
2: Stolas had to make a split-second decision there, he had zero time to think anything over, plus Octavia wasn't anywhere close to being in mortal danger, but Blitz was.
In conclusion, if you all want to insist on making this thing a trolley problem, then I beg of you, remember the problem is nowhere near purely 'Blitz vs Octavia' for all of the reasons I've brought up in this post, and also remember that it's Andrealphus and Stella who tied them down on the tracks to begin with.
#helluva boss#blitzø#blitzo#stolas#helluva boss stolas#stolitz#helluva boss andrealphus#helluva boss stella#octavia goetia#loona helluva boss#moxxie#helluva boss millie
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Okay, so. The senator's speech. Here's why I'm okay with it: It fundamentally misunderstands the worldbuilding of Star Wars and the Force, in a way that's reasonable for a senator to misunderstand. To say the senator is right, you would have to say that the entire foundations of the Force are wrong, as well as it's pretty laughable to say that you shouldn't control your emotions. "Check yourself before you wreck yourself." is pretty good advice and that's literally just "control your emotions, before they control you". Because that's how the Force works, it's based on the emotions you pour into it--if you don't control your emotions, then you will run wild and out of control. To say that the Jedi seek to control their emotions, which is an impossible thing to do, fundamentally misunderstands that it's entirely possible. This is a speech coming from a member of the Senate, which has historically not always had the purest motivations, that Padme and Bail and Mon are written specifically as a contrast to the vast majority of senators who don't actually care beyond their own desires. We don't know anything about this senator specifically, but that's the weight that comes with having a character like this introduced--especially one who is trying to drag the Jedi into being more politically bogged down. Because that's the solution he's suggesting here, to weigh the Jedi down with outside oversight that doesn't actually understand who they are or what they do, who fundamentally misunderstand who they are (they're not a religion? come on, my guy, they are very clearly a religion, they have specific beliefs, practices, rites, and attitudes, to say they're not a religion is either dumb as shit or malicious bad faith lmao) and is very clearly not interested in the Jedi beyond them being a political enemy of his. He says, "But it's only a matter of time before one of you snaps." as if the Jedi haven't existed for literally 20,000 years at this point in galactic history and been aligned with the Republic since it's inception, something like 900 years ago at this point. His speech acts like a Jedi has never gone bad before or that the Jedi pretend they're above it--they very much don't. The Jedi are constantly making a point about how no one is above the dark side within them (TCW has a whole scene where the High Council say not even Yoda is beyond the dark side, and Yoda straight up agrees immediately), to say that one of them will snap and "who will be powerful enough to stop them?" is deliberately ignoring the worldbuilding. It ignores what the Jedi actually practice (it's a lifelong challenge not to give in to anger, so they're constantly on the path to turn away from it), it ignores that emotions very much are controllable, it ignores that the Jedi Order has been keeping a handle on their shit for thousands of years at this point, and it ignores that there's dark siders out there that were never trained by the Jedi, so if the Jedi aren't around to stop them, the Sith would have been wrecking the Republic's shit for the last 500 years. To be fair, they don't know that (but we the audience do, so we should know a bullshit argument when we hear one), but "who will be strong enough to stop him"? Idk, maybe the rest of the level 100 psychic space wizard monks? Pretty sure there's enough of them to stop someone who "snaps", if that happens. The senator's speech just flat out doesn't work with the established worldbuilding, in a way that really works for me, because that's kind of a huge established point throughout just about every piece of canon with the Jedi in it--people just do not understand them and hate the idea that anyone might actually be truly good because they can't imagine it for themselves. Because, as is a theme in Star Wars: "As much as people loved the Jedi, they also hated them, on some level. It is hard to look at people who have become their best selves. It reminds you that you have not."
The senator cannot fathom the idea that a group of people could become their best selves, he doesn't believe that it's possible, because he has not achieved it, and so seeing it in others unsettles him. And, yeah, that's a whole thing that happens with the Jedi in Star Wars, so this speech made a whole lot of sense to me, especially combined with, "So the answer is more bogging them down in political oversight that does not bother to or even want to understand them?" Like, yeah, I see where you're coming from, sir. And that's not even touching the idea of calling the Buddhist-inspired religion (which the Jedi explicitly are) a "cult", because anyone who unironically says that should not be trusted.
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Let's appreciate how complex Agatha's relationship with Billy is
GIF credit to @isagrimorie
The genuine emotion brimming from Agatha in this moment is very interesting and I really want to break down all the layers of how Agatha is relating to Billy—because it is truly not as simple as Agatha feeling sentimental or motherly to Billy.
There are a few layers at work here (and I also want to give a shout-out to @trickofthelights for her excellent recap points):
Billy reminds Agatha (enough) of herself
There are two driving forces at the core of Agatha as a character. We know this because her characterisation has been incredibly consistent throughout the show and Schaeffer has talked about them, which is: (a) Agatha is self-serving and (b) Agatha loves powerful witchcraft.
Billy is a powerful witch who did a horrifying thing in order to survive. He's been lying to these wonderful parents. He also just tried murdering three people in a fit of rage, provoked by Agatha no less.
Would Agatha care if he was less powerful? Would Agatha care if he didn't have a dark side? If he hadn't shown to be duplicitous and dangerous and subject to his darker impulses?
If he wasn't alone and without a coven, a possible outcast even among witches because of his unusual origins and power?
I'm pretty sure the answer is no, she would not. She would have dismissed him the same way she did his "Teen" persona. Agatha doesn't care about witches, Agatha cares about powerful witches –because that's who Agatha is and what drives her.
And we also got hints of this with Agatha and Wanda (hello consistent characterisation). In Schaeffer's words:
There is respect and almost affection inherent in [Agatha's interest in enormously powerful witchcraft], as indicated by how she felt about Wanda. She was mean to Wanda, but really she was fascinated by Wanda and admired her and wanted to hang out with her.
And if this wasn't clear enough, what Agatha tells Billy shortly later about breaking the rules and being a true witch just screams projection (more on that in my next point).
I was delighted that Agatha really did bounce back from the attempted murder – but it's not because she's forgiving. Oh no, I think, Agatha was testing her theory by poking the bear (calculated move, bad at math) and she's glad she was proven right.
I mean, she not happy about the attempted murder but her curiosity wins out. You see her poking at Billy and trying to figure him out in the rest of this scene.
Agatha also hates self-righteous moralising and searches out for the darkness in people – delights in it even – because she knows people and she knows her own darkness.
Billy is different but also not so different from Agatha, as much as Billy or his mom would hate to admit.
Agatha is dealing with her childhood trauma
Yes, Agatha is projecting on Billy, but she makes a choice about it. We hear her telling him what she would have wanted someone to tell her: that they shouldn't be afraid or ashamed of who they are or what they did to survive, that they are part of a community.
Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. ... That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. That's what makes you a witch.
She's trying to be the person she needed when she was a child, because she simply doesn't want someone else – particularly a younger witch – going through what she did.
She doesn't want anyone to go through what her mother put her through. And that's a choice.
Because there are a number of ways a character can deal with trauma: they can lash out and bring others down, wanting others to experience to the pain they went through, or they can realise that what happened to them shouldn't happen to anyone else in their position.
There's something beautifully self-serving but also selfless in that, because this is a way for Agatha to heal from her trauma. She can tell Billy things she may not be able to tell herself.
And it's interesting because as a self-serving villain, Agatha could just be jealous of Billy's power. But in this moment at least, Agatha's empathy and compassion – as buried as they usually are – prevail.
And yes, Agatha was fond of kid Billy
This is what Schaeffer touched on in her interview answer and it makes sense, with the insight that Agatha – like any good actor – does invest a bit of herself in every role she plays.
Agatha does have feelings (as much as they might make her vomit) and I do believe she has a soft spot when it comes to kids, given her experience with her son and her own childhood trauma. And that kids don't have the level of hypocrisy and darkness that adults do.
It makes sense that Agatha would have some level of care about the Scarlet Witch's magical kid Billy. And that is a fondness that has carried onto teenage Billy – who is powerful and a survivor and has a potential for darkness in a way she can relate to.
There are layers and they intersect and it all ties back to how Agatha is incredibly complex and yet consistent as a character.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#billy maximoff#aaa meta#tv: agatha all along#as a general rule if you think one thing about agatha harkness#you're probably wrong#she's almost always more than just one thing#she is mean because she wants to protect herself#but she also genuinely enjoys it#she can regret killing#but also not give a fuck about it#she can be a master tactican and chess player#but also a dumbass driven by ego and hubris#(and she can be a top and a bottom)
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The Voice from the Outer World
Dune is a story of failure. SPOILERS for Dune Part 2 below
Power corrupts and all of that. We all know this. So we would be able to avoid it, right? If you know what happens you can chose another option. You would be different.
And here's a story that shows that even when you know all of this and more and can literally see the future it's still not enough.
I get why people often think that to avoid this the person in power shouldn't want that power. That this would make them somehow immune. And this logic has multiple faults (like - how can you be good at doing something you hate?) and one of them is that just not wanting to abuse power doesn't mean you would do right things with it.
We are reminded multiple times in the film (and the books also aren't shy about it) that Fremen religious belief in a saviour is not something that arose naturally. It's a belief seeded by Bene Gesserit's Missionaria Protectiva. They seeded superstitions and myths in different cultures so they could use them in a future emergency. Everything Fremen believe about their Mahdi was created so their faith could be used by a Bene Gesserit in need. And both Jessica and Paul are aware of this even before they even set a foot on Arrakis.
It's specifically made for the saviour to be a foreign one (Lisan al-Gaib is The Voice from the Outer World) because the people who made and planned to use this prophecy were ones from an outsider culture. Paul doesn't hijack Fremen beliefs to insert himself as their white saviour. These beliefs was specifically created for someone like him to use.
It was made with purpose of hijacking Fremen religion into protecting the foreigners who know how this prophecy was constructed. This is a parasitic belief (cuckoo-like faith) and the truth doesn't set anyone free. We see why with Stilgar as he wants to believe so much that everything becomes a sign. Even when he's told this has been fabricated and he was manipulated he warps it into something that supports his beliefs not undermines them. I'm sure you've seen this in real life, in real politics if not religion.
Jessica and Chani got changed the most from their book versions. They've become opposite sides of the ideological divide. Not between religion and lack of it - Jessica obviously not a believer - but between using people and letting them decide their own future.
Book Jessica is more apprehensive of Paul's choices. She's often more worried he may not survive the trials than pushing for them for power. In here she becomes the driving force for using the messianic belief Bene Gesserit implanted for Paul's benefit. She makes sure Fremen believe he fits the story. She doesn't care about Paul's wishes to avoid this burden. She knows it doesn't matter when he tells the people the truth about Bene Gesserit, their abilities and their manipulation techniques. Belief is impervious to proof and confirmation bias makes you reject all evidence to the contrary.
But then, in the film, Jessica is kind of possessed. Stilgar warns Paul not to listen to the djinn but neither he nor his mother can stop listening to the voices. The film removes Alia's book doings but replaces them with foreshadowing of what she becomes. She whispers the truths about the future to her mother even before she is born. Funny, how this change makes her, not Paul, the first fully prescient Atreides. She is manipulating the events when Paul refuses to and that's a foreshadowing too. When Jessica took the Water of Life while pregnant she did it for the power this new position among the Fremen would give her. Alia never stood a chance. She was pre-born into this.
The only one trying to stand in the way of succumbing to the power corruption is movie version of Chani. She was never believer in a saviour. She wants her people to save themselves. They already have a plan for a better future that doesn't involve killing worlds for the Empire they never wanted anything to do with. They were not supposed to be warriors of the prophet. She sees this for what it is - a way to control her people. She understands this is just another form of enslavement. The only difference is that this one is embraced. No one listens to her when she tells them the truth. They only see what they want to see.
The power that comes from being close to the rule is just as blinding when you stand close to the throne as it is when you sit on it.
And the sad part is she knows she played a part in this happening to as she convinced Paul to give this a try. She didn't see the visions he saw so she hoped he can remain the person she fell in love with. When he submits to the way prescience shows him and takes over the faith we feel her heartbreak. She watches him becoming what he feared and everyone around him stops her from trying to save him because they get something out of it (not just the other Fremen or Jessica - Gurney puts atomic arsenal in Paul's hands).
Paul doesn't bring freedom. He just changes who holds the power but in the end the structures of power remain (the similarities between Saudarkar and Fremen are not accidental). And billions die so it can happen. But billions is a an abstract number. It's much easier to feel the consequences when they hit close and personal.
Everyone around Paul gets to gain something - Gurney gets revenge on Rabban, Jessica and Stilgar get to destroy the Harkonnens and the Emperor. They are on top now. The power corrupts before you even hold it. Just the promise of power is enough.
This film version of Chani doesn't let us forget that this is what we watch. That what is happening is not a good thing. We as humans have tendency to gloss over big numbers of deaths when it's some unseen people with whom we have no emotional connections. Through her eyes the loss is so much more personal. She loses her Usul to Paul Muad'Dib. And he takes her people and her planet too.
As Paul says - they are Harkonnens too. And they do what Harkonnens do too. The difference was always cosmetic.
And one more thing. A lot is said about Arabic and Muslim influences in Fremen culture and religion but they aren't the only ones. One other is the word used for the places where Fremen live - Sietch. It comes from Zaporozhian Cossack name for their fortified encampments - sich.
In the West the name Cossacks invokes the cruel Russian Imperial forces that tsars used to pacify conquered territories. But this is not what comes to my mind first. In the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth they were free people living in the borderlands of the Commonwealth on the territories often attacked by the Ottomans. The constant raids from the Turks meant they were warriors and constantly moving. But this also allowed for a lot of freedom as there wasn't a lot of direct control over these territories for the same reason. This meant that they were often joined by anyone wishing to have that freedom - from peasants escaping indenture to nobles escaping the law.
The dissatisfaction with the Polish rule eventually lead to an uprising and this part of Ukraine joined Russian Empire. That Empire destroyed all the freedoms Cossacks had and those independent warriors became just another enforcers of conformity for the Empire. They've become exactly what they fought against. I often wondered if Herbert chose the name Sietch intentionally to invoke this turn of events.
#dune#paul atreides#jessica atreides#lady jessica#alia atreides#chani kynes#stilgar#fremen#bene gesserit#harkonnens#lisan al-gaib#muad'dib#usul#dune part 2#dune part two#dune 2024#dune part two spoilers#dune part 2 spoilers#arrakis
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Step brother Hyunjin things
Warnings: puppy reader, degradation, blackmail, choking at some point, dub con, kissing.
Lil headcanon of mean step bro Hyunjin (who maybe is possessive) being a dick (it's so delicious tho)
Has known you since you were both little because your parents were family friends before their respective divorces, so he knows every button to push.
Constantly using Dad against you. It's a core part of his blackmail, really. Every time you're a little less than compliant, he pulls up one of the thousands of pictures he's taken of you during your times together and asks what you think Dad would have to say about it.
Calls you puppy when people are around just to get you flustered. He's amazing at playing it off so that nobody questions it because well, he's just a good brother and you've always been SO close.
Any time he sees you alone on the couch, he's tugging his pants down and tapping his cock against your cheek. Of course, you protest. You tell him that you don't know when your parents are getting back. He doesn't care, though. He tells you that you should shut up and get to work if you don't want them to find out.
He's not always mean, though. You'd even say he's somewhat nice when you've had a really hard day and you come to him reluctantly, kneeling in front of him because you just can't be in control right now, and he's the only person who can take that from you.
He rewards you so well for that. For any willing submission you offer him, he returns it by making you cum over and over again on his fingers before he fucks you nice and slow, rolling his hips lazily into yours to drag out the low, whimpered moans that you let slip. He's only gentle with you when you earn it.
He loves to make you cum. He loves it even more when your pretty mouth is objecting to it and telling him he shouldn't be doing it, but your hips are bucking against him and your nails are digging into his arm in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.
And he takes pictures every time. Sometimes, he'll force you to pose and use his fancy camera. Those are the more tasteful shots of you in pretty lingerie with wide doe eyes. Other times he's using his phone to capture the tears that spill down your cheeks as you gag around the length of his cock. He loves both equally.
He always has to degrade you. He'll pin you down completely still the movement of his hips as he makes you beg, always something along the lines of "C'mon, puppy. You were all talk before begging me to stop and now you're panting like a bitch in heat. Tell me you want it. That's it, more. I know you can do better than that. Tell me you're my worthless slut."
He knows you like it because your pussy is always dripping and practically pulses around him.
He would never admit it, but after a while you become the only person he fucks. Sure, he could have his pick, but he knows nobody else would look as cute as you do when you're staring up at him wide, panicked eyes, and tear stained cheeks.
He fucking loves seeing you cry. He loves watching you bite your pillow when he finds you laid on your bed and forces your pants down without a word, easily sliding his cock inside of you because you're always soaked at this point.
At some point he starts making you tell him that you love him. He has a firm grip of your throat and you're overstimulated to the point of becoming delirious as he uses one of your toys on you, thrusting it in an out of your aching cunt. "Tell me, and I'll stop, yeah? All you have to do is tell me how much you love me."
And you do. You say it like a prayer. You say it over and over again even after he's stopped, and he's got your cheeks cradled in his hands, cooing at you because you took everything he gave you without a complaint this time.
He was recording it, of course.
Recording you is his second favourite form of torture. He has so many videos of you sat pretty between his legs, your hands in fist infront of you like little paws as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, drool dripping down onto his lap to create a messy wet patch on the fabric of his pants. Those are his favourite to get himself off to.
Sweet brother Hyunjin is always nice enough to let you know when he's getting himself off to you. Which is every time. He sends you videos and pictures of his gorgeous cock fucking up into his hand and it's the only time he seems out of control, desperate for it to be you that he was burying his cock into instead.
Very rarely does he lay back and let you do the work. He likes taking charge and making a mess of you, but very rarely when you're being a good dog and sitting patiently, waiting almost excitedly for his next round of abuse, he lets you do the work. He'll pat his lap and wait for you to climb on top of him, watching in amusement as you fumble with his zipper and shove his pants down, messily grinding yourself against his bulge until he quietly tells you that if you don't move on, he'll leave.
You always perk up at that, taking it less as a threat and more as permission to sink yourself down on his cock. This is when he praises you.
He tells you how pretty you look and that you take his cock so fucking well, looking up at you with something akin to adoration sparkling in his eyes. He might even kiss you. His kisses are the ultimately reward, always slow and sensual. You become ravenous when he kisses you.
Maybe he'll even tell you he loves you. That you're his favourite puppy. He knows he loves you, and he has accepted that. But maybe he'll let you know when your grinding down onto his cock like the well trained mutt he has made you into.
He doesn't make it too sweet though. More like, "that's it. Take my cock, baby. Fuck, I love you. My desperate little slut. All fucking mine, yeah?"
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One thing I love about Miles Edgeworth is how realistic and practical he is, more than he is moralistic. As much as Miles cares about justice and doing what he thinks is right, he’s not fueled by belief the same way, for example, Phoenix is. And this is one of the things I feel like gets ignored or brushed aside when Miles's character is softened too much.
Both pre and post redemption, Miles puts a lot of emphasis on reality and the bottom line of what people can do in a situation.
In Turnabout Goodbyes, the first thing Edgeworth says in response to Phoenix asking him why he became a prosecutor instead of a defense attorney is: "… I couldn't let myself deny reality like you."
He also doesn't truly believe that every defendant he prosecutes is guilty, contrary to popular belief. In Turnabout Sisters, he says this: ""Innocent"…? How can we know that? The guilty will always lie, to avoid being found out. There's no way to tell who is guilty and who is innocent! All that I can hope to do is get every defendant declared "guilty"! So I make that my policy." Miles is disillusioned with finding the truth and trusting people that he settles for doing all he can hope to do.
And when you think about it, his motivation of finding the truth is an extension of his realism. After all, the truth is quite literally the most objective, realistic thing ever. In 1-3, after helping Phoenix convict Dee Vasquez, he says: "Will Powers was innocent. That he should be found so is only natural… not a miracle." The truth as a motivation is probably a grounding force for him.
When Miles comes back in Farewell My Turnabout, he calls out Phoenix's flawed motivations for becoming a defense attorney by offering realism: "We aren't some sort of heroes. We're only human, you and I. You want to "save someone"? That's something easier said than done, wouldn't you say? You are a defense lawyer. You can't run away from that. You can only fight. That's all you can do." Miles isn't saying Phoenix can't "save someone". Miles is saying that Phoenix shouldn't be so focused on saving someone that he forgets that his job as a defense attorney is only to fight for them.
Side note, I love the way Miles comforts people, he isn't exactly "nice" but he's incredibly kind. His blunt honesty digs at the heart of the matter, and he gives them an extra push because he respects them enough.
And then there's, possibly, my favorite Miles Edgeworth line: "It doesn't matter how many underhanded tricks a person uses… The truth will always find a way to make itself known. The only thing we can do is to fight with the knowledge we hold and everything we have. Erasing the paradoxes one by one… It's never easy… We claw and scratch for every inch. But we will always eventually reach that one single truth. This I promise you." This directly parallels the line he says in 1-2, and it makes me emotional every time I think about it.
The fact that Miles Edgeworth never lost his unwavering realism, in both quotes he acknowledges how untrustworthy people can be, but gained a new purpose.
#miles edgeworth I love you#very much#ace attorney#miles edgeworth#aa1#aa2#turnabout goodbyes#turnabout sisters#farewell my turnabout
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“Crowley is still an angel deep down” “Crowley is more of an angel than any of the archangels” “Crowley was only cast out because he needed to play his part in Armageddon, he's not a real demon” “Aziraphale wants to rebuild Heaven to be more like Crowley because he’s what an angel should be” no. Stop it. This is exactly where Aziraphale went wrong.
Crowley is 100% a demon. He's not actually a bit of an angel, and he's not cosmically better than any of the other demons we see in the series. He's much less vicious than most of them, yeah, but he's also much less vicious than most of the angels, because how “nice” a celestial being is has nothing to do with which side they're technically on. Crowley's kindness comes from him doing his best to help people despite the hurt he's suffered himself, not any sort of inherent residual or earned holiness. He was cast out just like the rest of the demons, and that's an important part of his history that shouldn't be minimized, excused, or, critically, 'corrected.'
Being angelic is not a positive or negative trait in the Good Omens universe. It's a species descriptor. Saying that Crowley is still an angel deep down because he helps people is an in-character thing for Aziraphale to think, certainly--Job and the final fifteen showed that in the worst possible way--but it's not something Crowley would ever react well to, and it's the main source of conflict in the entire "appoint you to be an angel" fiasco.
We know that Aziraphale thinks Crowley's fall was an injustice, but why? Well, because Crowley is actually Good, which means his fall was a mistake, or a test, or a regrettable error in judgment, or…something. Ineffable. Etc. The point is, he’s special, much better than those other demons, and if they can fix him and make him an angel again, everything will be fine! (So once Job's trials are over, everything will be restored to him? Praise be!) Aziraphale has to believe that Crowley's better traits come from traces of the angel he used to know and not the demon he's known for 6,000 years, because that’s how he can rationalize his incorrect view of Heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good with his complicated feelings about Crowley's fall.
But Crowley's fall was not an injustice because he's actually a Good Person who didn't deserve it. Crowley's fall was an injustice because the entire system of dividing people into Good (obedient) and Bad (rebellious) is bullshit. Crowley is not an unfortunate exception to God's benevolence, he is a particularly sympathetic example of God's cruelty.
And really, Crowley doesn't behave at all like an angel, especially when he's at his best. All of the things that he's done that we as the audience consider Good are things that Heaven has directly opposed. (See: saving the goats and children in defiance of God in S2E2, convincing Aziraphale to give money to Elspeth despite Heaven's views on the "virtues of poverty" in S2E3, speaking out against the flood and the crucifixion in S1E3, tempting Aziraphale to enjoy earthly pleasures because he thinks they'll make him happy, stopping Armageddon.)
Heaven as an institution has never been about helping humanity. And that's not an issue of leadership, as Aziraphale seems to think--it's by design. Aziraphale's first official act as an angel toward humanity was to literally throw them to the lions. Giving them the sword wasn't him acting like an angel, it was just him being himself. Heaven doesn't care about humans. It's not supposed to. It's supposed to win the war against Hell, with humans as chess pieces at best and collateral damage at worst.
Yes, it's easier to think that there are forces that are supposed to be fundamentally good. It's easier to think that Aziraphale is going to show those mean archangels and the Metatron what’s coming to them and reform Heaven into what it "should" be, and that God is actually super chill and watching all of this while shipping ineffable husbands and cheering for them the whole way. And of course it's easier to take Crowley, who Aziraphale (and the audience) adores, and say that he deserves to be on the Good team much more than all those angels and demons that we don’t like. But that's not how it works. People are more complicated than that, even celestial beings.
Crowley is a demon, and the tragedy of his character is not that he's secretly a good guy who is being forced to be evil; the tragedy is that he's lived his whole life stuck between two institutional forces that are both equally hostile to the love he feels for the universe and the beings in it. There are no good and bad guys. There are no "right people." Every angel, demon, and human is capable of hurting or helping others based on their choices. That is, in fact, the entire fucking point.
#good omens meta#good omens#good omens season 2#crowley#long post#i feel like this is obvious. and yet#when crowley is kind he is NOT acting angelic. the same is true of aziraphale.#(to a point. i do think aziraphale performs 'niceness' sometimes because he feels like it's something he Should do as an angel)#(but that's because aziraphale has so many issues i cannot detail them in the tags of this crowley post)#this is my second long meta post in like 3 days. sorry. it’s my first free weekend in a while
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How will the NRC boys react when you overblot with the thought of suicide?
I don't know what I am doing, but since many people are interested in Suicide Overblot Reader, I will write something for it then. Reference to this post.
I think I will try to do all of them. I hope...
Some might be OOC because I don't understand their character enough (Trey and Cater in this post case), sorry if it bothers you guys.
I don't really write it as platonic or romantic, try to keep it neutral so u can read it the way u want?
Warning: Mention of suicide, self-destructive, angst, depression(?), blood,... a bit heavy thought I guess?
Part: Hearslabyul
Riddle
- When he reaches Ramshackle and sees you got overblot, he is uneasy but still remains calm and serious.
- Slightly think that part of this is his fault for not paying more attention to you. He knows that you had to bear a lot of things lately, with school, with Crowley's unreasonable quest,...
- But, he has to stay strong, he has to, he is a Housewarden after all.
- But... when Riddle sees you hurt yourself, he is stunned and terrified. This can't be happening, it shouldn't be.
- He hears your faint cries about your insecurities, your fear of being a burden... and your wish to disappear.
- It makes him heartache, wonder what has made you reach this point. Then, it hit him, every word he told you when you guys first knew each other, before his overblot, and before he changed.
- This must be his fault, he has hurt you... Riddle lost in his guilt, almost overblot right then and there.
- Even Trey can't pull him back to reality, but Ace's punch can.
- "Stop blaming yourself, don't you want to save them?" It actually helps Riddle calm down.
- Riddle braced himself, he had to make it right, so he could apologize to you properly.
- You got him traumatized. And you guys will also have a longgg conversation after things end.
Trey:
- He is... a lil bit shocked and worried about the situation. But, years of taking care of Riddle and his maturity helped him stay calm.
- Even when you hurt yourself, he only flinches a bit before pulling out his pen and trying to destroy the black inky thorns without hurting you.
- Things get worse when Riddle loses his sanity and starts to blame himself while Ace and Deuce lose their cool, kicking and fighting to get to you.
- Try to calm Riddle down. But it's no use.
- Ace's outbursts still make him surprised every time, but at least things have become more stable. They can focus on the main problem now.
- He keeps calm through it all, but when everything comes to an end, he falls to the ground and exhales all his built-up tension.
- He will check in on you a lot more. Reaching out to you, asking about your day, and baking you a lot of treats. Become your figure mother at some point...
Cater:
- Like Trey, being the third-year he is, Cater is much more mature and reliable than he seems.
- Use his unique magic, protect the first year, and even try to lighten the mood while keeping an eye on you.
- He is not too worried since everyone is gathering here, to save you! So nothing can be wrong... right?
- The moment he sees the blood splatter out of your body, he inhales sharply and trembles slightly before turning around to block the view of the freshmen.
- But he fails to keep them from the view, so now Ace and Deuce go berserk. At least Epel and Jack are still sober enough to hold the duo back.
- Multitasking. Become much more serious.
- After it all, he won't force you to tell him things but he will talk with you a lot more, maybe about this funny meme or some new trend on Magicam. Do his best to make you laugh.
Ace:
- He first tries to joke about this when he sees you in your oveblot form. Act cool and funny but can't hide his care for you. Swear that he will knock you on your head a few times for making them worry sick.
- The moment you hurt yourself? Ace and Deuce tried to rush toward you but got held back by other first-years.
- Scold you, told you to stop hurting yourself, and even threatened that if you don't stop he will fight you...
- Also scold you for being stupid. Yes, you're magicless but you also have survived many life-or-death situations that even a pro mage can't. You're not useless!!!
- Asked Riddle to do something just to find out his dorm leader is having a mental breakdown right there.
- He punches Riddle (the second time), how can he act like that when you're still in danger?!
- Ace also cooled down after that, he left the job of returning you to normal to the Dorm leader while helping others destroy those blot-made thorns to prevent them from hurting you.
- You guys will have to talk a lot after this, and you know can't avoid it, Prefect.
Deuce:
- His face turned pale the moment he saw you. Out of anyone, he doesn't think you're the one who got overblot.
- Especially when you stab yourself, he lost his mind. The moment he runs out to you, Epel holds him back. Others told him to calm down, to make a plan.
- But, Deuce can't even hear a word, all he can hear is your whimpering and the scene of the thorns lunging through your flesh keeps playing in his mind.
- Like Riddle, he also blames himself. The difference is that he blames himself for not looking out for you more. You guys have been friends since the beginning and you are always taking care of them, but they have failed to do so for you.
- The guilty feeling building up inside him made him mad, he wanted to punch, to fight, to take his anger out on something.
- After the "fight" between Riddle and Ace went off, Deuce finally calmed down.
- After things end, the moment you back to normal, he will immediately run to you and hold you close, afraid that if he lets go, you will disappear.
- Says sorry to you again and again...
- Become a bit paranoid and protective after your suicide attempt.
____________
5.C: This took me forever to finish, now I have 17 more to finish. Gotta say, Riddle is the easiest person to write about.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola#riddle rosehearts#ace trapolla#deuce spade#cater diamond#twst x yuu#heartslabyul#heartslaybul x reader
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A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.
ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER
You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?
I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.
But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.
You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.
You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.
"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.
It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.
It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.
Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.
You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...
You didn't say a word after they came back.
Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.
Luka... He was...
There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.
You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.
For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.
When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...
At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.
their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.
You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.
They promised you that they would survive just for you.
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Mafia konig and his sweet innocent assistant
OMG!! MAFIA KONIG!! My mom was obsessed with TV show about ex-spec ops soldiers starting a criminal ring as a friend group because they didn't have any opportunities after being discharged from the military and...well, let me introduce you to this: Mafia!Konig as a discharged colonel Konig, was let go from the military with(thankfully) enough connections and retirement funds that his little hobby of smuggling guns from poorer Eastern European countries into Austria and Germany(both having horribly strict gun laws) for the less fortunate criminal rings. He gets them guns and drugs -- much lower prices too, thank god for his Prague connections and cheap labor -- and they get him money and power. Mafia!Konig who isn't your typical suit-wearing nice and clean-cut mob boss. He still wears his uniform - not because he wants to taint the suit, but because of his connections as the guy on the inside in the special forces - he was booted out of the army because of his age and traumas, even though he refused until his last day at the forces. He won't ever let anyone tear that form away from him - you just know he fucks you in his office in full gear, bouncing you on his cock as you're forced to beg your colonel to let you cum. Wearing his dog tags as the sign of ownership - as you're nothing but his obedient pet. Mafia!Konig has a solid reputation. A center that helps veterans overcome their traumas and find new purpose in life after exiting special forces - and you're his pretty assistant, just an innocent thing that runs around and does all of his paperwork because Colonel hates doing it! And you want to keep your job, you want to be useful, you're a good girl that doesn't question the suspicious numbers and shady people that attend some of his other totally legal businesses. You know better than to accuse people who served your country of being a dishonest bunch of thugs. Mafia!Konig who knows this is bad for you - innocent thing, you shouldn't ever be wrapped in his schemes, he only hired you because he wanted someone nice, someone kind to hang on to. He is doing terrible things every day, not shading from murders, assassinations and contraband smuggling - but he can come to you and place his head on your chest, just laying here for a few minutes as you stroke his head and relieve all of his anxieties.
Mafia!Konig who eventually convinces you to be his girlfriend. His trophy wife even, eventually - he wants to take care of you, to free you from having a job and worry about money...he has all means to make your life in Vienna as sweet as possible, cute thing, and he even hired move assistants for his more illegal doings just so your only job would be bringing him coffee and sucking him off under a table after the closes a very important weapons deal, forcing his thick cock in your willing throat as he promises to take you to the mountains on Christmas.
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[TW: rape, non-con, dark]
There's something about stray dog's behavior that speaks König to me.
He'd been kicked around, ridiculed, and left on the cold pavement alone. He had no real house, and had to beg even for a scrap of food. Those were the factors that forced him to grow teeth way earlier—and sharper—than he's supposed to.
He'd held the bitterness in his heart, causing him to despise the weak, the poor who couldn't stand up for themselves. The perfect replica of his past self.
He hated seeing them, he'd even go as far as 'taking care' of them. Letting them know that no one would help them, no one would come to the rescue. Just like what people did to him back then.
He recognizes his contribution to the vicious circle, yet he finds himself helpless as he's unable to break free from it.
Perhaps that's when God decided to punish him for it.
There's a mission that required him to work together with the other team, and met with the reprisal for his bad deed, in the form of a medic.
He didn't spare a glance at her, didn't acknowledge her existence, until she defended her patients in front of him.
One of the missions went wrong, causing the soldiers to be injured by gunshots and a grenade. It was theirs to blame, because they didn't pay attention enough, but she shouted at him, telling him if he'd given them a deserved break, it would've been avoided.
He, of course, was angry at her.
He told her she didn't know anything, that she's hindering the mission. But she didn't flinch, even when he growled at her.
It frustrated him, because even his glare would send his soldiers running. Yet it didn't work on her. The people who's not afraid of him are usually those in power, but she isn't one of them. She's just a mere medic.
He tried to kick her out of the team, but the higher ups told him that there's no one available for her replacement. He also tried to make her quit, but what he did came back around to him, as he received a penalty.
It stresses him out, to the point that he'd overwork himself to distract him from his thoughts.
One day, a bullet passes through his heart and lungs, causing him to collapse on the spot.
In daze, when his consciousness slips in and out, he thinks how he could've easily avoided it. But his body wasn't listening to him, delaying his feet to move back.
In what feels like months, he opens his eyes for the first time after the incident.
What he sees, is a pale light on the ceiling, and a blurry figure by the bed.
And there she stands, just like the angel of mercy.
She doesn't say much, except for telling him to rest, and that he's lucky he survived.
She tells him the same thing for days, before he can muster two words out of his mouth.
Shut up.
And strangely, she smiles.
"Seems like you've recovered well." She responded, "Welcome back."
She continues to nurse him, despite his snarky remarks that she easily deflects. She takes care of him with patience that should've withered away from the moment she joined the army.
It shouldn't have bloomed in front of him.
For the first time in his life, he feels the weight of his guilt on his chest. He could've been kinder, could've been softer, and he would've broken the cycle just like she did. But he chose to nurture his anger—just like his father, and his father's father.
Then again, she could've gotten it easy from the start. Though in his heart, he knew it's just an excuse for his behavior.
The day he's permitted to work again, he left without saying thank you.
At night, he wonders if she'd come to hate him as well. No one would blame her if she does, but deep in his heart, he hopes she doesn't.
Since that day, he has followed her like a lost dog. But he would turn his head away whenever she looked at him.
Sometimes he scoffs at himself for thinking about injuring himself, just so he could receive her care. Yet he couldn't help but panting at her feet, lapping up every little conversation they made. He wants to surrender himself to her, letting her put a collar around him and call him hers.
And it's all because she showed just a little kindness to him.
On lonely missions, or lonely nights, he often imagines what they could be. Living in the suburbs, white fences, and kids. The picture perfect of the marriage.
Until it all shatters on the ground.
It's not his intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but lean in when he hears her voice. She sounds happier, as she shows her friend the ring on her finger.
So he bares his teeth,
And bites.
(One time, his uncle had to put down their dog
Because he bit his children for no reason—
Other than jealousy
He heard the dog whined
on the cold table,
alone, and scared
As the vet slowly pushed the poison
Into his bloodstream
And God, how cruel is it
To put a heart inside of a beast
When all his life
He only knew
How to bite?)
He pants as he presses himself into her, causing her to whimper, as her voice is long gone from screaming and crying.
She must've had no idea of what's coming to her when he called her to his office. The scratches and bruises on his body were enough proof of her gullibility, that she came to him, unassumingly, and trusting.
He had her bent over his desk, smothering her easily with his body as he forced himself into her. She was a fighter, but not strong enough to defeat him.
He had lost his inhibitions, as his back arched for the eighth time, spilling his seeds into her.
And she's lost as well, as her eyes were unfocused, and all her energy had been zapped from her body.
"Leave him." He said, as he drove himself into her once again.
She lets out a high-pitched moan when his cock stretches her open again, filling the room with sticky sounds.
"Leave him and love me instead." He said for the second time, and she cried in pain when he buried himself too deep.
"Love me," He sobbed as he pulled the ring out of her finger, knowing fully well he couldn't replace it without twisting her arm. "Please love me."
Her tears flood her cheeks as she watches him discard the ring from her, before latching his mouth onto her shoulder. Marking her with another bite, drawing yet another blood with his teeth.
He knew she had closed her heart the moment he slammed her on the table. He knew she wouldn't come to love him. But if he's not loved by her, then no one should.
#i wrote this instead of sleeping#i don't know why i wrote this#tw noncon#konig x reader#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#stray dog behavior as a metaphor of monstrous love#könig x reader#könig cod#i feel like konig is so angst coded that I can't think of happy fics whenever I think of him#or yandere coded#whatever#you get the point
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