#i think the storm scene is great fun too
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
☕️ + king lear (since you latched onto cordelia)
omg THANK YOU FOR ASKINGGGG! i hope you’re doing well and having a good day 💞💞
what’s funny is i hated king lear at first. detested it. i said gET THIS OLD COOT OFF STAGE!! DRAG HIM OFF W A CANE!! WHERE ARE MY TOMATOES!!!
but the more i read, the more i warmed to it. i have a strange attachment to it. i think i just want to play cordelia at some point in my life—and when i’m old, i want to play lear and be the old coot myself.
i think we could probably talk plenty about it’s themes: justice, authority, nihilism, forgiveness, betrayal, etc. beyond that, we could of course talk about the very sexist nature of the play. but at the time, when i read it, all i saw was a story about a sick family member and a daughter who remained so loyal it cost her life. and i just resonated with her. and i got woefully attached to her monologue in the beginning of the play that begins with:
“Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; no more nor less.”
which just kills me, because this whole monologue is her attempting to tell her father how unjust he is being, asking them to love him above everything. asking them to put him before everyone and anything. that you shouldn’t love someone like that, family or not. and i think the use of “heave” and “heart” strike a particular cord for me too.
and sometimes i have to remind myself that with family members. i love them according to my bond, no more nor less. i love them a great great deal and there is a lot i would do for them, but there is a line. and cordelia, noose and all, tend to remind me of that.
#IDK THIS WAS A LOT OF RAMBLING#THE PLAY HOLDS A PARTICULAR SPOT IN MY HEART#I HATE IT AND I LOVE IT#i love the fool btw love a fool who speaks wisdom sorry i AM a sucker#i think the storm scene is great fun too#ppl shouldn’t ask me about shakespeare i’ll talk too much#did i see a production of king lear and cry? of course i did#of course i did#ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR ASKING#i’m sorry for rambling at you LMAOO#cielo chats!#cielo rambles
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
♢ I own you, I love you | Tartaglia
warnings: yandere, dub/con, male m.asturbation, violence, threats, corruption, unrealistic sound-isolation, delusional thoughts, possessive behavior (from childe), childe/tartaglia lore-spoilers, canon divergence (maybe?), misunderstanding/miscommunication, manipulative behavior (from ajax) , unreliable narrator (ajax), ask to tag more.
pairing: afab! fem! reader x childe
word count: 10.7k
a/n: after months... here it is;; i'm so sorry for taking so long (tt),, i'll make it up to you !! istg (huhuh)
— 18+
You had trouble falling asleep ever since the day Ajax went missing.
It was meant to be yet another normal day, one that would blend in with all the others – muddled with other memories of childhood. Instead, it became the day your life began to change in ways you hadn’t even fathomed possible.
It had heavily snowed the previous night, which left a brand new layer of pure white to cover the humble roads of Morepesok. Normally, after such a heavy storm, you and Ajax would go over to his house and play inside – making use of the fireplace his father had built and hot chocolate his mother would make to keep warm. You both would steal his father’s diary and read about his adventures across Teyvat, recreating the scenes in your minds with yourselves as the main characters, before sharing your dreams with one another.
You never had the courage back then to tell him your ideal adventure was a rather simple one, while you always dreamt of moving to a less snowy nation, one like Mondstatd or even Sumeru, you were content with peacefully traveling across Teyvat before settling down. You didn’t want to spend your life fighting monsters and exploring the world, you only really longed for a simple life, where you could work a safe job and create a new home for yourself and those you loved. It was fun to imagine yourself on a long, rewarding journey across the nation to complete a request, but you’d rather keep it as just that – a figment of your imagination.
Ajax, on the other hand, longed for the chance to become a warrior. While never too skilled with the blade, always too nervous to even kill an animal, his determination was enough to convince you he’d one day make a great adventurer like his father. He’d longed for the thrill of exploring every corner of Teyvat, roaming the land until there was nowhere in this world where he hadn’t been to. Meeting new people, learning about new cultures, fighting monsters and gaining the freedom that came with being an adventurer; Ajax’s dreams had been clear from a young age.
A part of you, albeit really, insignificantly small, always wished he’d never succeed, secretly hoping he’d leave those ambitions behind with age and become a fisherman or craftsman instead. You’d heard tales of men and women who’d joined the Adventurer’s Guild only to never come back, and even more about those who’d joined the Fatui’s ranks, and you didn’t like the idea of waking up one day to find out he’d passed in a foreign land. It was selfish, you knew that, but you hoped that maybe he’d choose a safer option, one where you two could live together, away from the cold winters of Snezhnaya and safe from the dangers of the world. Maybe you’d both move away from Morepesok, find a quaint town in Fontaine where you’d both settle down and continue being friends, or maybe more, with no worries for each other’s safety - only busy being happy and healthy.
While you were putting on your boots and coat, making sure to layer as many clothes as you could to avoid the freezing cold temperatures that came with such heavy snowfall, you remember feeling an odd sense of uneasiness, a queasy feeling settling down in your stomach making you feel sick and nauseous. At the time you had thought nothing of it, too focused on meeting up with your friend and the taste of his mother’s hot coco, but now, years later, you think it was the Tsaritsa’s way to warn you for what was to come.
You remember nearing his house, confused as to why he hadn’t met you halfway down the road like he always did. It was quiet, eerily so, only the sound of your boots and your labored breath as you battled your way through the snow. There were no kids out on the street, all the adults that would normally be on their way were missing, even the birds seemed hesitant to chirp.
Instead, you find his mother worriedly looking around the perimeters of their humble cabin, her normally neat appearance now disheveled. Her long, ginger hair was half-hazardly put up, her clothes were wrinkled, her coat wasn’t even buttoned up all the way, but she stood there, frantically looking around.Whenever you’d come over, you and Ajax would always bump into one another before racing home to see who’d get there first, but today there was his mother’s choked sobs where normally his laughter would ring.
“Auntie?” You asked, running the rest of the way as you saw her expression, the closer you got the clearer the worry in her face became and you felt yourself grow anxious.
“Sweetie,” she looks at you in surprise, not having seen you approaching - too preoccupied to hear your unsteady footsteps as you struggled to run towards her, you see her blue eyes frantically look behind you and you follow suit, “A-Ajax, he wouldn’t have been with you, right?”
“No…” You shake your head, the previous feeling in your stomach expanding across your body, your head felt fuzzy as you asked, “Isn’t he home?”
“I… I’m afraid not,” She looks distressed at your words, her eyes water as she ushers you inside while still trying to look around to see if she caught sight of her son’s bright ginger hair against the cold white that coated the roads, her hands are shaking as she holds yours and brings you into her home, “Come inside, come inside – it’s too cold out t-there, you’ll get sick.”
Behind you, you hear more people arrive, you’re almost certain you hear your parents as well, but you have no time to ask before the worried mother shakes her head at the curious adults that looked up at her – the atmosphere worsens at the realization he hadn’t snuck out to be with you, she tries to occupy herself by taking you inside so as to not give into hopelessness.
You’re confused, not too sure of what’s going on even as you see adults from around the village inside of the house, maps in their hands as they whisper about the boy’s possible whereabouts.
“Is Ajax… o-okay?” You ask, you start to feel afraid as you process their concerned faces, seeing all of these adults who’d always been smiling and assured look so worried and uncertain sent a chill down your spine.
Where was Ajax? Normally he’d be here, assuring you your imagination was running wild and that nothing was wrong, the empty space next you where he’d normally be felt awfully cold.
Nobody answers you, instead you’re taken to your friend’s room where his siblings were gathered. Their mom, who you've always called your auntie, kneels down in front of you, taking your smaller hands into hers and giving you a weak smile.
“Ajax will be fine, okay?” Her words are meant to comfort you but you feel like they’re more for herself in that moment, “He’s just… gone out for a while, but he’ll be back before you know it.”
You nod, not truly understanding what she meant but feeling as if that was the response she needed to hear.
She gives your forehead a small kiss, you feel a tear fall travel down her cheeks and into your hair but you say nothing as she leaves, noting how she desperately tried to conceal the tears in her eyes; You’d never seen her cry before and it’s only then, as you look at his siblings and the pained look in their faces, that you finally begin to grasp the severity of the situation.
He was missing. Your best friend was gone and no one had any idea where he had run off to.
That evening your parents came over and stayed the whole day with Ajax’s family, alongside the other townspeople who went and came as they searched for the young boy in the woods around the area. Normally, you had to fight tooth and nail to let them grant you permission to stay over but that night they’d been the ones to offer it first.
That night was the first and only time you had a sleepover without Ajax. You and his siblings huddled together in the living room, next to the fireplace as his mother looked over you all. You would wake up every so often to the sound of people coming and going as the search efforts seeped into the night and early morning.
The suffocating cycle repeated itself for three days. Three days, two nights, and one afternoon later, after countless hours crying to your parents in fear of losing your best friend; Ajax emerges from the woods in one piece, but he who returns is not the same boy.
The first thing that stood out was his disheveled hair, he was wearing the same clothes – which were in too good a condition for a kid who’d gotten lost in the woods by himself for three days –, and the hunting knife he’d stolen from his dad now dull as if it’d been used continuously for a long period of time. What shocked the men and women who’d found him was the blood on him – specks decorated his face and hands as he looked up at them from his position near the corpse of a bear, one easily three times his size, he’d somehow taken out.
They’d found him in a clearing close to his house, the smell of blood had been what had alerted the rescue party – they’d prepared for the worst case scenario where the blood came from Ajax’s body, instead they found him to be in good shape even after three days by himself in the wild – perhaps a little too good, for it seemed he’d somehow taken down a beast by himself with his hands and his father’s old hunting knife.
The news of his return quickly spreads, everyone gathered near his home as they awaited with bated breaths to see the young boy; you’re there as he’s reunited with his family, hugging your mother’s leg as tightly as you could.
Rumors spread about him having killed an animal, some claimed it had been a rabbit while others alleged it had been a beast the size of a horse, and you wondered if they had mistaken another kid for Ajax – he’d never had the guts to harm even a fly, you doubted he’d changed so much in the span of three days. But it seemed as if you’d been wrong.
He doesn’t shed a tear, he doesn’t say a word. Not even a squeak as his parents coddle him; nothing at all. The only sounds are hushed whispers as people discuss the absurd situation and gleeful congratulations from onlookers as they celebrate his arrival and well being while giving his family well wishes. Instead, his blue eyes find yours and you’re unnerved at the empty look in them. Where there’s once been a warm light, you found an empty void that seemingly sucked you in and refused to let you go. You felt goosebumps arise all over your body the longer he looked at you. Even as he’s embraced within his father’s arms, his family surrounding him as they cry from relief, it’s only when he makes eye contact with you that, the first time since arriving, he smiles.
You feel a chill travel down your spine as you realize Ajax hadn’t been the one to return that day. You unconsciously nestled closer into your mother’s coat, as if trying to hide from his unnerving gaze.
You did your best to ignore that unsettling feeling, opting to attribute it to the rumors you had heard instead of something your friend had done, you pushed it and as well as any doubts aside as you attempted to focus on the good news; he was here, home with his family and back next door to your own house, and that was all that really mattered.
Ever since then, he’d become more confident. His once timid personality completely disappeared and the days where you had been the stronger one, defending him from his older siblings’ teasing and the mocking from other kids, were now but hazy memories. The roles had switched quite suddenly, not that you minded it too much – there were times where it felt nice to be the one being protected rather than the protector, but it had been quite the surprise at first.
He’d become bolder and more protective, never afraid to throw a punch (and sometimes even more) if he felt like you had been disrespected. It came to a point where you’d sometimes grow suffocated by his mere presence; eventually it escalated to where he’d never let you hang out with anybody he didn’t approve of, afraid they’d hurt you and he wouldn’t be there to defend you, and he’d make sure to let it be known you were his friend first and foremost. Unknowingly, a set of rules had been implemented between the two of you. Rules that stated you were his responsibility to protect and care for, even if it meant it drove others away and left you two isolated from other kids your age.
There were times you missed the Ajax that’d gone into the woods, the freckled boy who was timid and polite – who’d rather be teased by his siblings than hurt even a bug the size of your pinky, you doubt that boy would have picked fights with kids twice his size because they’d made a joke or two that didn’t land too well. But you hesitated to dislike the new Ajax, after all, when it was only the two of you - it was as if that damned day had never occurred at all.
He was back to the sweet, delicate boy who’d blush at your jokes and avoid prolonged eye contact. Whose hand would grow warm from holding yours, who’d confess his feelings to you every night when he thought you’d fallen asleep.
A few years later, once you were both older – now settled into your teen years, he ended up joining the Fatui and leaving your humble seaside village to go to the capital to train as a soldier.
You cried the day he’d given you the news. As overbearing as he could be, the ginger had been your only friend that your parents consistently let you hang out with, you’d spent your whole lives together and the thought of being without him terrified you greatly.
You remember the look on his face, the way he desperately tried to look strong and not let a single tear get away, his hands that had once been soft were now calloused as he grabbed your own.
“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He’d whispered, his lips near your ear as he enveloped you in a hug.
You don’t trust your voice not to break and so you nod, letting your nose burn from trying to contain your sobs and not worry him more than he already was.
“A-and I’ll write you letters, so you better not forget me,” he continues, and even if by now he’d long since grown taller than yourself – you’re amazed at how small and vulnerable he felt against your frame, “so please… wait for me.”
“Only if you always write to me first… ‘Cause I swear I’ll leave if you forget.” You try to lighten the mood, halfheartedly warning him as if you both didn’t know it’d take death itself for Ajax not to fulfill a promise from him to you. He tightens his arms around you and you feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you wonder how long it’ll be before you can both hug like this again.
“I promise.” He laughs softly, the sound warms your heart.
“Then I promise as well.”
Ever since the day Ajax went missing, you have had trouble falling asleep.
When you did manage to fall asleep, a task which took longer than you’d like to admit without external factors such as medicine, your dreams would be strange and cryptic, often times you’d wake up in the middle of the night with a racing heartbeat and a sense of urgency, as if you’d been in danger; you’d learned to hate the images your brain would concoct during your rest. Some nights, you’d dream about that day and what would have happened if Ajax had never been found, other times you’d open the door to soldiers grieving his death; whatever tragic scenario your mind decided to present you, it would always be so realistic you’d wake up with tears streaming down your cheeks and a devastated heart.
This time, however, your sleep had come easier than expected and there were no dreams or nightmares to haunt you. No earthly worries were present and, after such an unexpected day filled with reunions and world-shattering news, you wished to succumb to a never ending night; however, the fates had other plans for you.
As you’re forcibly awakened from your slumber you feel a familiar, pleasant hand gently caressing your head. It felt gentle, their touch delicate and sweet, as if they were afraid any more force would hurt you. If the owner of said limb wished to lure you into consciousness, their touch had the opposite effect as it almost seemed to beg you to go back to sleep and forget the world of the living.
You felt truly content as you laid there, the blanket that laid atop of you was heavy and cozy, a foreign feeling - nothing like the blankets you were used to, and the pillow smelt like an old friend, welcoming and nostalgic. It all felt like a perfect trap set out to catch you, if that were that case then you’d have to admit it was a little too good at its job as you resign yourself to cuddling closer to the fabrics that enveloped you.
If it hadn’t been for the gentle kiss pressed against your cheek, you probably would have never gotten up. You want to complain, already formulating a sentence of indignation and annoyance to throw at the perpetrator, but the warmth left behind by the gesture is cozy and fills you with a taste full of happiness and fulfillment you don’t want to sour. At the feeling of a pair of unknown, soft lips against your skin you become more alert, slowly your consciousness begins to enter the realm of the living once more while you grow aware of your surroundings. Your eyes open timidly, the leftover fatigue from such a deep rest keeping them heavy, it takes you a second or two to adjust to the light and another few to register the man that lovingly gazed down on you.
“Ajax…?” You call out, rubbing your eyes as you wonder if it really was him. You’re almost sure you’re dreaming, as embarrassing as it was to admit, it had been so long since you’d seen him in person you may have simply gone crazy and imagined the man to be here; You’re about to ask him what he was doing here, if he were real at all, but he beats you to the punch with a smile before answering you with a gleeful tone that reminds you of summers long gone.
“The one and only,” he laughs gently as the hand that laid atop your head began to ruffle your hair in a familiar gesture – reassuring you that he was, in fact, a real person and not a figment of your imagination you had come up with to deal with the loneliness, “… don’t tell me you forgot about earlier.”
He teases you, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he awaits your answer; surely, you couldn’t have forgotten. It’d only been a couple of hours and he had been sure to be as thorough as possible so that he left a print on both your mind and body, there was no way you’d forget making love with your soulmate. Just the thought of it sent jolts of anger and frustration down his spine, not at you - never at you, but at himself as he wonders if maybe he’d underperformed and disappointed you to the point you’d try and act like nothing had happened. If that was the case, he was more than willing to go again just this instant to right any previous wrongs.
“Earlier?” You mumble, you wreck your brain trying to think of what he meant but it isn’t a full minute before you realize what he meant. If it hadn’t been for his words, maybe his coat laying on you and your sore body would have been enough to eventually jog your memory. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you remember what you two had done earlier, you’d been so tired by the end you’d fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber that momentarily left you empty-headed when you woke up, but now the memories are rushing in and you doubt you’ll be able to forget the feeling of Childe on top of you for a long time.
Your embarrassed gaze was enough for him to know you’d remembered the dance you’d both partaken in earlier that day, the way your eyes avoided his had his heart swooning and a warm, fuzzy feeling settling deep within his very soul.
He feels himself calm down the more he looks at your flustered face, his whole body light and intoxicated on your sweet expressions; his pants felt so tight as he watched you fiddle with his coat, he wonders if he’d be able to warm you up on the ride back to his place the same way he’d done so previously.
You were absolutely adorable to him, so very weak and fragile in comparison to him – if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would have loved to destroy you until you were too scared to leave his side. Alas, he decided that you shouldn’t be the one to face the sharp end of his blade, instead, he’ll scar your psyche and those around you so violently you’ll have no want nor need for anything else other than him.
“So, ‘slept well, my love?” He asks, his tone sweet as to never betray his darker thoughts — you didn’t have to know about how deeply he wished to break you until you couldn’t function without him by your side. You nod while suppressing a yawn, blissfully unaware of the chaos that was unfolding due to the man in front of you, and he laughs, content with your naïveté; he missed you oh so very much, “That’s good.”
There’s a warm, almost euphoric feeling that invaded your senses as you both took the time to enjoy each other’s presence; it felt different from earlier, something had changed now that you both had finally indulged in each other’s bodies. It felt akin to drinking a warm cup of tea, comforting and pleasurable, a reminder of home and the feeling of familiarity after a long period of impersonal and foreign coldness.
“Let’s get going then,” he breaks the silence, finally standing up from his crouching position, he gives you one last pat in the head before he starts making his way through your room and inspecting your belongings – or what remained of your belongings, “the carriage will be here soon, it’s only an hour long ride away but I think it’s best we take as much as we can today and send someone to pick up what remains.”
That’s when you notice he’s fully dressed, other than for his cape that was laid on you, as if he was anxiously awaiting the time to leave. You’re confused; why was he so keen on leaving and so fastly – he’d barely been here a handful of hours. Did you misunderstand his intentions?
“What do you…?” You ask, you rub your eyes while you sit up, using the large coat as a cover once you feel chilly Snezhnayan air hit your sensitive skin. It’s then that you can finally look at the many bags and boxes that litter the floor, and the almost empty room you laid in. All of your belongings seemed to have been packed away, almost nothing remained other than old family portraits and gifts from your parents from across the years.
“Huh?” The sight of your room packed into boxes was enough to wake you up, you instinctively try to stand up but a firm hand keeps you in place; you look up and see Ajax looking down at you. Your eyes meet and a chill goes up your spine at the look in his, they look eerily empty. You barely feel the coat slip from your shoulders, too focused on the feeling of his fingers against your forearm and the fact he, as a soldier, could easily overpower you if he wished.
“You’re still sleepy, aren’t you?” He asks, the muscles on his arm flex slightly as he speaks to you - he sounds disappointed as he continues interrogating you, “Do you really not remember?”
You shake your head, trying to wrack your brain for any indications of what he could be referring to; you remember the news about your parents and what happened after, but moving out? You have no memory of such a thing being even discussed, lest he meant —
“You agreed to marry me,” he says, as if reading your mind, your arm is finally set free as he adjusts the gloves on his hands, “and as my wife, you’ll be living with me from now on; I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay… here for much longer, considering everything.”
“Marry you…?” You echo as you watch him parade around your room, sharp eyes taking in what was left of your belongings on display. You vaguely remember his proposal during the first half of your conversation, something about how it’d serve as an obstacle for the arranged marriage – after all, it’s not as if the wife of a Fatui Harbinger’s marriage could be easily questioned or objected to. You had agreed almost immediately, even if you had your doubts about the reasoning behind the arrangement, you’d rather marry someone you knew than a stranger.
You wished you’d thought things through better, waited a bit longer before giving your answer. Clearly Ajax had made up his mind but now, after the shock of the news began to wear off, you felt like you owed your parents and yourself a discussion. Even if you felt betrayed, like their decision degraded you to an object instead of their daughter, you wanted to head their side; if only to get closure for your own aching heart.
Instead of answering you, Ajax turns around to meet your eyes. His eyes had always had the ability to suck you in like a void, they’re never clear - always muddy, like there was a side of himself he hid from you; you could never find your reflection on them. It took you a while to get used to them, to their empty, numb look that sent chills down your spine all those years ago.
The room feels small as you both look at each other, you sit on the bed naked and he stands in front of the door as if he were trapping you in, it’s silent and intimate and it makes your skin crawl. His expression is one you can’t read, maybe all those years in the Fatui had taught him how to make his enemies cower thanks to his presence alone, because the harder you tried to understand what his gaze meant, the less you felt you knew about him.
“Yes, you said you’d marry me.” He states and, even if it wasn't phrased as such, it felt more like an order than a recalling of events.
“I know,” you mumble, “and I… I like you, Ajax, I really do, and I’d love to be with you, but… but I can’t run away from this without hearing them out, you know?”
“You said you loved me.” His expression changes into a frown; Had you lied to him?
He probably sounds childish, his sentences short and repetitive like that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, but the truth was he simply couldn’t believe that you’d even hesitate to marry him; his brain completely short-circuited as he tries to understand why on Earth you’d ever think of giving anybody a chance when you had him.
“I mean, I-I do,” your cheeks feel hot as you’re quick to answer, at least you think you love him, “but… mom and dad wouldn’t just do this without a reason and you know that. I can’t just leave and never see them again without their explanation, even if it’s bad… I need some sort of closure; I can’t accept they’d just do this to me for no reason.”
“As if that changed anything, they gave your hand away for Mora, my love” He retorts, completely bewildered at your words; they’d tried to give you away to some lowlife, they hadn’t consulted you, they were going to spring it up on you one day and expect you to get over it the next, “Does a reason even matter?”
“It does, at least I… I think it does,” you look down at yourself and notice droplets falling down against the coat, staining the heavy leather with your sorrow, you were crying and hadn’t even realized it, “I don’t want to hate them… I don’t want them to hate me.”
He goes quiet when he catches sight of your tears. He freezes, his chest tightens and he feels himself grow dizzy – it’s the same foreign feeling he got when he first heard of the engagement, he feels his knees buckle under his weight and himself sway with every step he takes in your direction. They were beautiful, your tears, so delicate and clear, they shone like crystals when the soft afternoon light came through the window just right; he wishes he could collect them in his palm and weave a necklace to keep with himself, a reminder of your fragile heart he desperately needed to protect.
You looked so vulnerable, naked and crying, covered only by his coat. It was an intoxicating sight, he wished he could take a photograph and engrave it on his eyelids so every time he blinked he’d see this scene play out. You broke so beautifully, it was haunting to hear your voice break into sobs and wails as you mourned the life you thought you had, but it sounded beautiful to his ears nonetheless. It makes him feel insane, it was taking too much self-control from his part not to jump on you.
He sits down once more next to you, shaking limbs trapping you in his arms as he rubbed your back softly. As you cried uncontrollably, he found his cheeks hurting from the large grin on his face; it couldn’t be helped, no matter how much he tried to will it away, the joy he felt as he saw you cry was too much for him to hide.
“It’s okay,” he makes no effort to quell your fears, instead he chooses vague words of comfort to let it fester in your heart, “you won’t need to see them ever again, you’ll have me instead.”
He feels you hiccup, too deep in your own despair to formulate words. Your shaking body clings to his, you felt so scared and alone; How were you supposed to accept such a cruel, unforgiving truth? What could you possibly do to ease the pain in your heart as you thought about your parents and siblings, who had so easily given you away to a stranger. They felt so far away from you, it felt as if your whole life had been a long dream, nothing but a fantasy you were unaware could break any second, leaving you afraid and confused as you awakened to a reality you could have never seen coming.
“Come, I’ll help you get dressed,” Ajax helps you up as he speaks, essentially forcing you to face reality and displace the fogginess in your mind, he’s gentle as he makes his way with you to your closet - you vaguely note that it was still full, unlike the rest of your room it seemed he hadn’t touched it save for a few drawers here and there -, “the sooner you get ready,” he keeps an arm around you while he goes through the rack of your clothes, making sure you stay close to him, “the sooner we can get out of here.”
You nod, your head hurts but you can’t seem to stop the tears.
Maybe he was right, maybe it was a bad idea for you to talk to them; there was truly no excuse, was there? You doubted anything they’d say would take the feeling of betrayal away, they had treated you like an object, completely forfeiting your own personhood and giving you away to a stranger for Mora. No matter how desperately you wanted to understand what they’d done and why they’d done it, the more your head and heart hurt – it was such a cruel, heartless thing to do, to throw away your own blood to whoever bid the highest for them.
You can’t even muster the strength to facilitate the Harbinger’s task of dressing you, your whole body felt heavy as he made sure to layer on your clothes, it was near impossible for you to even stand up by yourself without your legs swaying and your knees buckling under your weight. It’s only due to the ginger’s persistence and strength that you don’t collapse.
By the time you’re ready and boarding the carriage, you’re tired and too drunk in your own misery, to question why, even as it neared nighttime, your parents nor your siblings hadn’t come home yet. Not that you cared, at least not right now, seeing them was the last thing you wanted to do.
The ride home is peaceful, you’d fallen asleep early on and laid beside Childe as he caressed your sleeping cheek and gazed out the window. Your head laid on his lap, broad thighs becoming a make-shift pillow for the ride, a blanket covering your body to keep you warm while you both made your way to his residence in the capital through the cold night.
Bored, deep blue eyes mindlessly gaze at the scenery passing by, his thoughts too jumbled together for him to admire the scenery. His thoughts stray back to your mother’s horrified face as she walked in on you together in bed earlier, he chuckles to himself as he recalls the screech she let out; it felt nice to see her so uncomfortable, but it wasn’t nice enough he’d forgive her for what she’d tried to do to you; Separate you from him.
“Ajax?” She finally gasps out, her hand points at him in an accusatory manner, “What… what is going on?”
When did that boy come back? He’d been gone for years, the last she remembered him was as a young teenager going off to join the Fatui; what was he doing in bed with you? You hadn’t mentioned him once during all these years, she had thought you’d long since forgotten about him. So why on Earth was he laying in bed with you - naked? Had he pressured you to do so? You two had such a close relationship, there was no way you wouldn’t have mentioned him to her if you two were dating - her mind was racing with a million thoughts and all of them left her worried and confused. It’s clear she’s not doing well, her breaths are visibly unsteady, her chest rising and falling unevenly while she audibly gasped for air, she’s shaking so hard you can see her knees wobble as she tries to steady herself against the doorframe; this wasn’t something she could have ever seen in coming.
Ajax couldn’t care less, the whole spectacle was boring and wholly unnecessary; she wouldn’t get to see you ever again, she should be grateful he hadn’t simply taken you home with him the minute he saw you.
“I came back for my beloved,” he answers carelessly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he makes a vague gesture towards your sleeping form as if to make the point clearer, “can’t have a wedding without a bride, after all.”
“Wedding? You and her… are getting married?”
“Yes, is it that hard to understand? Come on, ma’am, everyone could see that she and I were going to get married,” he scoffs, “you said so yourself multiple times.”
“But,” she looks visibly confused, “that was back when you two were together everyday, Ajax… you haven’t seen each other in years. You can’t seriously think that you’re getting married because you both said so when you were children.”
The audacity this woman had was near parody, clearly she knew nothing about you nor your life and it made him feel sick. She had the privilege to be a constant part of your life during all those years he was away and yet she clearly spent them doing Archons’ knows what, he was growing visibly angry the more she spoke.
“We’ve known each other long enough,” he shoots her a glare, “and I’ve known my whole life I’d marry her, whether we’ve been seeing each other everyday or not - we’re getting married and that’s final.”
“Did she agree to this?” Your mother asks, her voice rising until it was near a squeak.
“Of course she agreed to marry me!” He snaps, his tone venomous; Could she just shut the hell up already?
“Then why didn’t she mention it to her father nor myself?”
“Because we agreed to get married today,” he puts your sleeping body aside, slowly standing up and tying a loose blanket around his hips, “and neither of you were here.”
“Today?” She echos, “You came back today and asked her to marry you?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he shoots her a glance as he picks up his clothes, slowly putting them on as he goes on, “and she said yes, I think you get the point by now.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself, she made her way inside the room, careful as to not wake you up, “there’s no way she was serious about marrying you. You… you’re practically a stranger to all of us at this point, Ajax.”
His pants were on at this point, his blouse now balled into his fist as he tried to control his annoyance. This was starting to get pathetic on her end.
“I will have you know,” he interrupts her, turning around to make eye contact with the woman once more to make his point clear, “that not only have we been in constant communication since I left, she agreed quite happily to the proposal - I don’t understand what exactly is not clicking, ma’am.”
“Of course she’d agree,” she exclaims, her hands flying up in desperation as she continues, “she has liked you all her life; but were you two dating until this point? What even was the relationship between you two; how am I supposed to support her getting engaged with a man we haven’t seen or heard from in years. Never once did she mention you, Ajax, she never spoke of a partner much less a marriage, all her life she’s made it clear that’s one of the least of her concerns and you want me to believe her mind changed in one day because you came and had sex with her? You’re insane if you think I’ll allow it.”
He feels himself freeze, most of what she’s said up until now feels like background noise the moment he finishes processing her words. You never mentioned him to your parents? He knew you hadn’t mentioned the letters, not all of them at least - he’s asked you not to, but never once in the almost eight years since he left had you mentioned him - not even as a potential suitor nor as a lover. That hag is lying, right? There’s no way you’d do this to him, right? You loved him, you said you did when he was fucking you just minutes ago, you wouldn’t lie to him, no.
“Listen to me, I don’t care if you want to get married to her - but there’s an order to how things are done,” your mother shoots your sleeping form a glance, “you could have at least let us know beforehand you’d be coming, you… you should have spoken to us; you know we would have given you our blessing if you’d waited a bit longer. This is the first time you’ve seen each other in years, emotions are running high - at least give her some more time to think this through, you already bedded her… don’t make this harder on her - she was beginning to move on, she’d been planning to move and now you’re telling me she’s throwing it all away? For a man she’s barely seen in years no less.”
“You’re… you’re wrong.” He mumbles under his breath, “You’re wrong, we both love each other.”
“Listen to me,” had your mother’s voice always been so grating to the ear, “she might have said yes to you now but how do you know she won’t regret it? When did you ask her? Today, the same day you come for the first time to see her? You think that under all the emotions that’ll come up seeing you again she’ll be thinking rationally? Was this even a conversation you both had previously, Ajax? How are you so sure she loves you like a wife and not just as a friend?”
His movements slow down, his hands feel heavy as he buttons up his shirt; can she just shut up? What did she think she was doing, lying to get him out of the way? Insinuating you’d ever regret him, what a joke - you needed him to survive.
“I’m saying this not just as a parent but as a wife, you can’t rush into these things, you can’t spring the question up suddenly and not take the time to consider it properly! You… you immediately had sex with her and you want me to believe this is out of love and not physical attraction? You couldn’t even wait for her father and I to get home. You’re telling me that both of you are completely sure of what you’re doing, you want me to believe that? I’m not letting my daughter make such a rash decision in a day -”
“So what if it was in only a day, huh? You’re just looking for any excuse to oppose us getting together,” he’s quick to interrupt her, “because you are trying to get her to marry some old fuck for some quick mora.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You think I don’t know, huh? You don’t care about her at all, do you? Lying to me that she’d never mention me, as if you didn’t know we were together all this time… acting like you care about her when there’s some fucking bitch downstairs you sold her off to.”
“What… What's this about selling my daughter?” “Don’t act stupid on me,” he doesn’t even bother buttoning the rest of his shirt before he’s pushing your mother out of the room and following her out the door, “I tried to be civil, but I’m getting really damn tired of you criticizing us and you keep on lying.”
She hits her back against the wall, she yelps in surprise but the Harbinger makes no acknowledgement of any discomfort he may be causing. Instead, gloved hands shoot up and take hold of her shoulders as he continues going at her; there’s a crazed look in his eyes as he keeps on speaking, getting progressively annoyed the longer the conversation went on.
“We – I, we never sold her off,” your mother pants, she looks up at him in confusion and fear, “who do you take us for?”
“I have the records,” he pushes her down, “there’s no use in lying to me, ma’am – I know everything I need to know.”
“You’re crazy,” she spits out, “you’re fucking crazy… I don’t what the fuck happened to you, but I’m sure as hell now that you are absolutely not getting anywhere near my daughter!”
“Shut up!” He picks her up and throws her against the wall, there’s a loud thud as her body slowly sinks into the ground, he corners her with his body, “Shut the fuck up, you hag.”
“Let go!” Tears are streaming down her eyes as she pleads,“Help, someone help! Please, upstairs… come upstairs now!”
“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”
“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”
“Get off of her!”
Oh, your father was here.
It’s strange to think that at some point, Ajax would have considered him something akin to a second father - especially now as his stomach filled itself with venomous rage at the mere sight of the older man.
“I said get off,” he runs towards the younger soldier, at an impressive speed for a man his age, his hands lunge forward as if to tackle him but it takes one hydro blade’s slash for him to stop dead in his tracks, “I… what do you want?”
Your father looks visibly worried as the ginger brands his weapon, the sight of an unfamiliar vision user threatening your spouse is one that would make anyone think twice before taking their next step.
“Do you seriously not recognize me?” Tartaglia laughs incredulously, “Come on, sir… I was only gone for a couple of years.”
“Ajax?” Your mother nods her head frantically as your father finally puts a name to the face of the strange man in his house, “What the hell are you doing, boy?”
“He’s going on about,” your mother gasps for air, “marrying her and - and, us selling her or something!” The awkward position she found herself in made it hard for her to comfortably speak, even so, she made sure to spit it out as quickly as possible. Her chest is heaving while she desperately tries to make your father understand the absurdity of the situation, the hydro blade in his hand was simply too close to her skin for her comfort - the power of Harbinger was nothing to scoff at and she wanted nothing more than to never find herself in this position ever again.
“We can talk this out,” your father’s hands shake as he tries to slowly approach the ginger, “there’s clearly been a misunderstanding…”
“There has been no misunderstanding, sir,” he laughs, “I know damn well what I saw and what I heard.”
“We would never -” “Yes, you would!” He nearly shouts, but he restrains himself - if only because you’re still sleeping nearby, his whole body shakes as he tries to control the volume of his voice, “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you acting like you wouldn’t, you know? Just admit it and maybe, just maybe, we can work things out.”
“We would never hurt our daughter like that, Ajax,” the older man tries to explain, “please, understand that… let my wife go and we can talk this out properly, please.”
“Talk it out?” Ajax looks at him incredulously, “There’s nothing to talk about if you won’t admit to your mistakes, sir.” “B-but we didn’t -”
“Shut up!” His blue eyes are wide open, the crazed look in them was enough to send a chill down a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t they just admit to trying to separate the both of you? Why were they so desperate to lie? He knows what he heard, he knows they were trying to ruin his chances to be with you. They were clearly trying to get in his way, they had to be conspiring against the two of you - there was no other reason as to why you’d been so hesitant to agree to his proposal, why you’d been scared to see the truth; they were brainwashing you into forgetting him, doubting him. They had to have known he’d come back, there was no way he wouldn’t have, it’d take death itself for him to give up on you.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to listen to your parents’ pathetic attempts at covering up their lies.
Your mother’s words die in her throat as he knocks her out with a single blow, it’s by sheer luck the impact against her skull hadn’t straight up killed her. Your father doesn’t even get to react, not even a pip can be mumbled, before Tartaglia is making his way towards him at rapid speeds, the young man’s strength was enough to tackle him down. The Fatui soldier makes sure to use as much strength as possible, all in an attempt to get his opponent to knock his head against something and pass out with as little fuss as possible.
It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold - not yet dead nor mortally injured but not awake, no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you.
It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold, both lying motionless on the ground, their limbs sprawled awkwardly; not yet dead but no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you, much to the former’s delight.
Footsteps could be heard from the first floor as the guests downstairs started getting worried, standing up and roaming around calling your parents’ names - too polite to dare wander into the house but too anxious about their absence to stay completely still, the thick wooden floors muffled the sounds but not enough that the commotion upstairs couldn’t be heard. One of the many benefits of Snezhnayan architecture was the isolation you could achieve in a big enough house, he’ll keep it in mind when he picks a house to start a family with you in.
Due to your house’s size, Ajax wouldn’t have to worry too much about Andrei or his parents hearing too much, meaning he’d be able to keep the element of surprise.
The Vision user knew he’d have to avoid the dining room, the place where the guests currently found themselves, lest he lose control and kill his former subordinate the minute he laid eyes on him, however his reasoning was anything but noble; Tartaglia simply wasn’t too keen on the idea of letting him get away with his crimes just yet.
To him, death would be too soft a punishment, it would have to be a fate worse than, not just for Andrei but every single person who was involved in the scheme.
His gloved hands make their way to check their pulses, both weak but still there - good.
With a satisfied huff he makes his way down the hall and staircase, quick to dismiss his signature hydro blades as he purposely makes his presence known with loud, rhythmic footsteps any soldier who’d served under him would recognize.
Years of hanging out under this very roof meant Ajax knew exactly where your back entrance was, which meant that he could enjoy instilling a sense of dread into the people downstairs without risking being found.
With a lazy smirk, Ajax purposely lets a couple of framed pictures and paintings fall from the wall, his hand tracing the walls and making sure to create as much sound as possible. As he approaches the dining room, he can hear the confused, hushed whispers as someone tries to peek into the hallway but, by the time the young man finally reaches the door to look around, Ajax has long since exited the house as he makes his way to recall the soldiers he’d stationed around the neighborhood.
With a wave of his hand soldiers seemingly appeared from thin air, emerging from bushes and rounding dark corners, soon the Harbinger is surrounded by men awaiting his orders.
“Is the Galkin residency ready?” He asks, making direct eye contact with a shorter soldier.
“Yes, sir.” The man nods.
“Good,” he combs a hand through his hair as he looks at your childhood home, “there’s a knocked out couple on the second floor, the rest are in the dining room.”
“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices respond, mechanically a group of the soldiers turn around and march into the house.
“Keep it down, will you? If they scream, knock them out,” he adds half-heartedly, “she’s sleeping, so don’t wake her up.”
The leader of the group nods enthusiastically, making sure to echo the sentiment to his men before making their way inside the house.
As their operation takes place, Tartaglia turns back around to address his remaining companions; “Make sure to make it look as realistic as possible, we need the charges to stick.”
“Yes, sir.”
He asks to see the boxes full of fabricated evidence one last time. There are at least six large boxes filled to the brim, but he focuses on one. The one that holds the most damning evidence for the most serious crime anyone could commit in the land of Cryo; Treason against the Tsaritsa. Cold, blue eyes look with a gleeful glint at the falsified letters, penned to look exactly like your family members’ handwriting, there’s more; photographs, bank records, falsified shipment records, and more.
He gives one final nod, officially sealing everyone’s fates. From this moment onwards, your family and the Galkin’s would be charged with treason against the Tsaritsa and conspiracy to overthrow the Fatui. Sure, many others, perhaps even innocent people, will unjustly be implicated but he’ll make sure to pin this on the worst people he can. He’ll get rid of two birds with one stone while he’s at it.
It takes only a couple of minutes before everyone is being pulled outside of the house and led into carriages. It’s a humiliating sight, the ones who were awake were panicked, some even crying, the ones who had to be subdued needed to be carried by two or more people as they were unceremoniously dragged away.
Ajax purposely hides away, making sure to make a mental note of who was being taken and their condition. Andrei and his father are the only Galkin family members out of the four present who hadn’t been knocked out. Your parents, your eldest sister, and younger brother are knocked out - your elder brother, and your other sister are the only ones awake. There are a couple of other people, their partners, and a few he didn’t recognize immediately. In total, there were 16 people taken from your home.
Tartaglia made a point to only reveal himself as they finally dragged Andrei out, the final person out the house. His hands were bound behind him, a confused look clear in his eyes as he desperately tried to understand what was going on. His green eyes finally make contact with Ajax’s, they widen.
“Sir? What is going on -” He’s cut off by a harsh shove from the soldier walking him, he stumbles.
Ajax almost feels bad at the sight, Andrei was a good man - if only he didn’t try to get with you. He was young, unlike the idea he’d planted into your head, Galkin had only recently turned 27 last month, and he’d been a promising soldier until he was honorably discharged after a failed mission took the lives of most of his troupe. However, if you found out about his closeness in age to yourself, you’d probably not have reacted as poorly - maybe you’d even think about giving the fucker a chance. After all, people like Andrei - honorable young men who sacrificed a part of himself for his nation - were always appealing to the masses. But never as appealing as Ajax was to you, he couldn’t be.
The Harbinger turns around on his heels, not even sparing another glance to the arrested individuals, before making his way inside your house.
It’s filled with strangers, their serious faces evident as they set up the scene - their movements calculated as they did their best to create the image of guilt. Even though there were easily five or more people in every room, the whole place felt eerily empty. In a way, he almost feels as if you two were the only people in the world - you, the sleeping beauty waiting for him to arrive.
There’s a spring in his step as he pushes the door to your room open, his eyes immediately find you buried within his coat. He’s not surprised you had managed to sleep through it all, you’d always been a heavy sleeper even during your youth.
He ushers a soldier in with a bunch of empty boxes, signaling for her to start packing your things up.
“Wake her up and you’re dead.” He adds while he makes his way towards you, a cheeky smile on his face as he makes himself comfortable next to you.
The soldier nods, making sure to be as quiet as humanly possible as to not anger the man in front of her - at this point, everyone in the house knew that he was not exaggerating when he said such things. When it came to you, the eleventh Fatui Harbinger knew no bounds. She turns around, making sure not to look too much at either of you in fear of upsetting him.
He patiently waits for the woman to finish packing all she could fit in the boxes. By now, he’s cuddling you in his arms, never allowing you the chance to so much as squirm away from him. It’s a suffocating, possessive hold he has on you, like he was scared if he let you go even for a second you’d leave him.
“Good, thank you.” He doesn’t even look at her - too focused gazing lovingly at your sleeping form. She says nothing but bows before leaving, desperate to leave the room as soon as possible.
The minute she closes the door he pulls himself away from you, making sure to not wake you up with any sudden movements - a concern he seemingly hadn’t had before when he’d been tormenting your parents.
He’d done his best to conceal himself but the truth was that the minute he saw you again, he felt himself growing hard again. Your naked body was hidden enough he didn’t feel the need to kick the soldier from before out, but he knew - he knew that beneath it you were still dirty with him, you were bruised from his handling of you, your neck filled with his kisses and bites. Just knowing that was enough for him to get dizzy, as if all the blood that was meant to flow to his brain had been redirected to his dick. His white pants were tented up, it almost hurts from how erect it was - just the memory of you taking him inside had a wet patch forming in his underwear.
“Look at what you do, baby,” he moans, his voice breathy as he pulls his zipper down, slowly freeing his hard-on, “ah… hah, I want to be inside you again.”
Just the cold air hitting his bare cock is enough to send a jolt of electricity down his spine, he just wants to feel you again, it’s all he wants - to be inside you again and to fuck you until all you can think of his your future husband’s cock. He takes your hand, so much smoother than his battle-worn one, and cautiously shoves two of your fingers into his mouth as a make-shift gag.
He keeps one hand there while the other one slowly caresses his slit, his touch almost a ghost on his skin as he makes sure to tease it until a glob of pre starts to form from how sensitive he already was. He takes a small amount of pre-cum and uses it as lube, making sure to spread it slowly across his tip and down his shaft with long strokes.
He’s trying his best not to bite down on your fingers but it was so hard not to, instead he occupies himself by sucking on them in sync with his hand.
“Mhm!” He accidentally touches his vein, the thick bump was extra sensitive against the cold air and your scent, his whole body twitches.
He can’t stop his hand from gaining speed and force, the longer he’s here with you the more his hand moves. It just not enough, his hips thrust upwards as he gives into himself, fucking into his balled up hand. His tongue laps at your fingers, his lips wrap tightly around them as he tries not to bite into your flesh; he can’t stop his hand from tightening against his cock.
He continues like this for a while, humping into the air like a bitch in heat, making sure to not cum - he didn’t want this to end too soon, he wanted to continue feeling like this next to you. In your room, a place that smelt so much like you it was overstimulating him, the taste of your lips against his tongue was intoxicating - he didn’t want today to end.
“Hah, mhm…” He chokes against his moan; it’s starting to get too much for him.
It’s then that he makes the mistake of looking over to you. Just the sight is enough for him to cum, it takes just a few strokes for him to finally spill.
“F-Fuck!” He can’t stop the moan that leaves his lips, he takes your fingers out of mouth in fear of hurting you but he refuses to let it go, gripping tightly while he lets himself ride the wave of pleasure he feels.
It takes him a second or two until he finally calms down, his dick growing sensitive as he slows down his strokes until he finally stops. His chest feels heavy as he pants, his heart beating painfully loud - he wonders if maybe you could hear it even in your sleep, a part of him hopes so. His whole body is on fire but he thinks this is the best he’s ever felt, just being near you was enough to make him feel like a God.
“I… I love you,” he pants, his fingers almost leave a dent in your hands from how tightly he’s gripping it, “hah… I love you so, so much…”
Almost a little too much.
#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere ajax#yandere tartaglia#yandere childe#yandere x reader#yandere gi#yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere boy x reader#male yandere#๋࣭ ancient scrolls#yandere genshin imagines
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hellooo, lowk imagine a jealous sukuna x reader fic where he bottles his true feelings for her. That leads to an argument which then leads to reader storming out and meeting w/ her friends to have them dress up as a guy and pretend their her new hook up or smth 😭😭
Debrief: Sukuna would rather die than talk about feelings but you do that thing (exist) that he likes and he cant help himself (crash out)
4868 words.
If someone asked Sukuna how he felt about you he’d say you were just best friends. He’d actually talk so much shit that it could be the fic itself.
But if you were to ask anyone else how they think he felt about you? The majority answer would be ‘down bad’ followed by ‘obsessed’ followed by ‘unhinged’.
Gojo mutters something about pussy whipped.
“And they were roommates” you finish off before placing the cherry red lollipop back in your mouth as you lift the opposite arm to touch the ceiling. Yes the ceiling someway somehow you had convinced the pink haired brute to carry you around on his shoulders something about wanting to know what it fealt like to be his height.
“You're such a nosy brat y’know?” He keeps walking around, switch in hand looking so tiny since his palms are so huge. He was playing the sims and just put one with pink hair and no tattoos in the pool and took the ladder out. You lean down with your pink dyed hair covering his view wobbling slightly but he's quick to steady you.
Before you can retaliate his brothers Choso and Yuji are walking into his apartment not phased at all by the scene except Yuki, chosos girlfriend who definitely is shocked.
You greet them all while Sukuna glares at them not wanting to hear anything not even see the knowing smirks on their face.
The second time they walk in on the two of you your head is in sukunas lap your body elongated on the couch as you scold him for being mean to some of his employees at the tattoo shop. Hes barely listening though your slender fingers tracing his tattoos especially the ones on his bare chest.
These were the perks of best friend privileges, you could do absolutely anything you wanted to him and hed just let you. Hed glare at you with that look of annoyance and call you a brat but he did that when he was happy too so you brush it off as nothing more than his default.
He would never admit it but he likes when you dote on hin like this, likes that youre bossy and commanding you never ask him to do anything you tell him. For someone half his size you surely do think you have alot of power of him(you do). He likes the way your body feels against him too because to you the Y in Your space was silent not that he minded your excuse being hes so huge and takes up so much space.
The curves on your body drove him wild especially when you placed himself in his lap, your plush ass sitting right on his dick and if he even looked down he’d have a perfect view of your breast that’s always on display in the low cut shirts you wore.
“Are you even listening?” Your voice pulls his attention as you give him a slight glare, hand wrapping around his bicep… well the part your hand could fit around.
“No” he smirks the clouded over look in his maroon eyes fading as he looks down at you watching you huff and slowly sit up. “Why should i” he challenges loving the way you never back down.
“Because im your bestie for the restie and im always right” you arrogantly scoff climbing into his lap smiling at the eye roll he gives you, the fourth one today by the way, as an arm wraps around your waist to steady you.
“Shut up ‘bestie for the restie’ yuck” he mocks in a high pitched voice always making fun of you for saying stuff like that. He hated it, it was so girly and childish and stupid and he absolutely did not want to be your bestie.
“You actually bullied me into the silly little friendship” he reminds you the day you pranced into his shop bragging about the great colorwork of tattoos you did on all skintones and he couldnt deny your talent. Nor your friendship apparently.
“A woman half your size bullied you? The great lord sukuna. The masochist. The most muscular man in all of japan got bullied by a girl who doesnt use the top shelf in her home because shes to short to reach it” you gasp rhetorically leaning closer and closer making him hang off every word as if you were talking about something else. Its so innocent yet seductive all at the same time.
“Maybe i let the little pup thinks she is for my own amusement” he teases back with a smirk knowing it would get under your skin. Provoking you to get you riled up was one of his favorite pastimes.
“I will fuck you up” you snap with a vicious glare angrily sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. His skin burns at the sight remembering the drunk night at the club a few weeks ago and the kiss you shared when you sunk your teeth into his lip. Oh you couldve asked him for his soul and he wouldve told you its already yours. The next day though you just brushed it off before pestering him about it being so cold in the shop and demanding his hoodie.
“I would love to see you try” his smirk never leaving his face leaning closer to challenge you. Before your mouth can open in retaliation your phone chirps with 5 back to back text and your attention is gone from him.
“Oh its ‘toru” you smile… a bit to widely for his liking before getting lost in your phone.
“What the fuck is a Toru” he sneers unable to keep his jealousy at bay, because who in the actual fuck was toru and why were you smiling at your phone like that.
“Satoru Gojo” you shrug as if you hadnt just named a man that was so famous for gettin around he was known for sleeping with men and women and nobody batted an eye because they were just waiting on their chance.
“And you call him Toru?” He tries to stay calm digs his nails into his palms and digs his heels into the floor.
“Yes sukuna” you hiss not sure why he was asking such a redundant question. You hated being questioned this is actually where you and him were similar you were going to do what you wanted and when you didnt need anybody questioning you or being nosy. You had fucked up though nicknaming another man and reffering to him as just sukuna instead of kuna or even kirby that you called him from time to time.
“Get off me” he snaps and your head snaps up from the phone to his eyes that are actively avoiding you. Well who pissed in his onigiri? What was with the sudden change in attitude.
“Are you actually dumb enough to let that little fuckboy—“ he starts raging, not caring what words come out of his mouth until its to late and he sees the pure rage in your eyes.
“Dumb?!” You snap climbing off his lap and taking a step back from him. While you may seem soft and sweet like a cute little yapper there was a dark very vicious side to you that it seemed he could only trigger and once it was out it was like two fires colliding to see who could burn the most.
“When did you even have the time to meet this fucking idiot” he scowls hating Satoru and maybe he shouldve told you about their rivalry and that he actually knew the man but that would require good communication skills which is obviously something a man whos been crushing on you for nearly a year lacks.
“Maybe if you didnt spend so much time being a grumpy scowling asshole youd make friends too” you snap at him and he nearly has to bite his tongue he didnt give a fuck about friends when he had two annoying brothers, a pain in the ass Toji, Uraume and most importantly you.
“Who needs ‘em when i have you to pester me all fucking day” he snaps and he really didnt mean it so before he can say anything else he turns around to walk away only for you to keep going. You knew he never meant it when he said stuff like that it was part of your banter but this time you were furious and how dare he turn his back on you.
“And now you wont have to worry about me ever again” you snap shoving him on your way out making sure to slam the white door as hard as you could.
“Dont slam my fucking door” you hear his deep voice boom through the walls. So rightfully so you storm back to open it and slam it even harder. You hear “fucking brat” but refuse to not give him the satisfaction because realistically what the fuck was he going to do.
“Hey Y/n, what are you doing at the shop so late?” Yuji ask making Choso, Yuki and Toji look at you along with Maki who cuts the tattoo gun off pausing on her client.
“You being here this late only means one thing: you got a shipment of new tattoo ink or you and your little pink haired boyfriend are arguing…” she smirks, turning the gun back on. “And unless the mail started delivering on sundays id say the later”
“Its not my fault hes such an ass… and hes not my boyfriend” you cross your arms sitting at your station tinkering with all of the trinkets on your desk until you spot a 2x4 cutout of you and Sukuna from a photobooth you found at the movie theatres. Yanking it from its place on the mirror you lay it picture side down ignoring the little scribbles on the back.
So frustrated you tell them about the argument as theatrically as possible expecting for them to be on your side because he was wrong… as usual whenever you two argued which isnt often until recently but when you only receive snickers and hidden looks it only pushes you further into frustration.
“What is so funny, Maki?” You scowl at her crossing your arms over your chest before Choso burst out laughing.
“You two are so stupidly obsessed with another its comical, just last week you were calling him a slut for a woman texting him about a tattoo” she cackles taking her glasses off because her eyes were watering from laughing so hard.
“She sent him a nude that he kept looking at, which was gross by the way” you stick your nose in the hair and brush your hair off your shoulder.
“She was sending him a picture of her leg” Yuji intercepts being an actual witness to the picture and argument.
“Yeah and you could see her underwear, very unprofessional if you ask me. I just think if you are a shop owner you should have a bit more professionalism and not allow stuff like that” you shrug licking your gloss covered lips.
“Sukuna… professional? Youre on a roll tonight doll” Toji laughs at you this time spraying his station down with cleaning spray signifying he was done for the day and throwing everything into a big drawer as the rest of your coworkers laugh at the comment.
“You guys are actually the worst and to think i was telling him he should be nicer to you guys” you pout looking at the picture turned flat on your desk.
“I'm going to just say what nobody else is saying— that moron fucking likes you. Its kinda cute the way hes been pinning over you for the last few months” Yuki blurts twirling her blonde hair around her finger from Chosos lap who hisses her name.
“Dont get involved ive been in the middle of their fights, not worth it” he tells her and Yuji just agrees. Maki nor Toji cared enough to get involved preffering to just be bystanders, sometimes the cousins even made bets on who would win.
A solid two weeks goes by before Yuki intervenes. Two weeks of glares, blatantly ignoring another and even bumping shoulder because truth be told you two couldnt go to long without touching another.
Yuki listened as you called him everything but a child of God including a slut, whore, whoremonger and 7 other curse words she wasnt even sure people with a degrading kink would enjoy being called as the two of you watch him tattoo a woman who had obviously been flirting with him the whole time.
Yuki nearly looses it when its thursday— your day of the week to control the aux so of course everyone is expecting to hear megan the stallion which you don’t disappoint especially playing her newest album. But its when BAS plays that you and sukuna may eye contact before you look away going back to unpacking your ink not missing a single word.
“Im acting like i dont know him in public you treat him like a prize i treat him like hes disgusting” you rap a bit to loudly and the tension gets high in the parlor everyones eyes floating over to him but hes already glaring at you, you feel his glare but choose to ignore him so he does the only thing he knows he can.
“Turn this shit off” he snaps getting up walking over to the power source but is stopped when you finally speak.
“If its not your day on the aux you cant touch it— your rules” you remind him not even flinching or missing a beat he stops looking over at you the first time youve said something to him in weeks your pink curls in a half up half down with two strands framing your face his favorite hair style on you and its like you were doing it on purpose.
“We aint together but we together i hope nobody dont catch us” you keep going a second later this time your eyes meeting his through the mirror and he almost looses his cool when truth be told when it concerned you didnt take much. All eyes are back on him to see what his next plan of action is knowing hes not going to let you get away with it.
“New rule Megan is banned on thursdays” he smirks watching the way everyone turns back to you bracing for the argument to break out. But thats what he wanted… he was a menace and you knew better. You just unlock your phone with a grin turning on a worse song.
Aint shit by Doja cat and you watch the way his ears burn red with anger as you sing along. He wanted to burn everything down. You couldn't play anything if there wasn't somewhere to play it. But this wasnt a game he wanted to play with you… he didnt even wanna argue with you. He just didnt want you to talk to that white haired freak.
So with a few more hours of listening to your “indirect” shit talking songs somehow all of you survived the end of the night with nobody dying Sukuna ended up leaving early to go meet with Uraume.
So it’s no shock when you run into Uraume at the entrance of your apartment who sends you a kind smile.
“Hello” they speak politely, bowing at you slightly and sending Yuki a look. Yuki wasn't their favorite person and vice versa but they managed… somehow.
“How are you, it's been too long” you smile, hugging them squeezing in a way that made them slightly uncomfortable as you usually did it being your running joke since Uraume acted so professional all the time. Unaware of the way Yuki snaps a picture and posts it on insta making sure to tag you in it with a small red heart and heart eyes opting out of tagging Uraume for obvious reasons with no idea of the storm that was beginning to brew.
You sigh tilting your head as your black gently used paintbrush glides across the canvas. You weren't supposed to be thinking of him. Weren't supposed to let him live rent free in your mind you were here taking this class with your friends trying to be more in touch with your softer feminine side with a half up half down hair style a black bow tying your now maroon dyed body wave bundles together with a pink crop top and white mini skirt.
Trying to get over your feelings, you were passed the anger now just kinda sad this was the longest you had gone without talking to the bane of your existance.
Ryomen sukuna.
So why were you painting a throne on a pile of skulls and bones while the paint instructor had a field of assorted flowers and a beautiful sky. Before you can dwell on it your phone rings and you roll your eyes at the contact.
“What Choso” you spit into the phone and not that you hated him it's just that every time he called it was for something stupid… every time and this time was no different.
“Fine, im sending you my location now. Besides i don't think this soft girl era class is working anyway” you admit after hearing his request noticing Maki was painting a sword with a gun at the hilt and Nobara was painting a self portrait with a flower in her hair.
“And you want me to believe I’m supposed to just go look him in his eyes and say “No Ryo you're not like this” and he's going to stop destroying everything in his path?” You ask boredly twisting a burgundy colored curl around your finger leaning back in the car seat watching the dark haired man next to you run a hand over his tired baggy eyes. He winces, sending you a quick glance leaning further into his leather car seats. He originally told you he needed to have a talk about Yuki but once you got in the car and saw Yuji you knew it was about Sukuna.
“We have to try something… Y/n… I know it's been 2 months but he's getting worse. Hes not just picking fights anymore he's beating the shit out of people, he's destroying bars and clubs getting us banned and i've bailed him out so many times i'm actually nervous he's going to start putting a dent in my bank account” Choso exclaims pulling up to the bar and you can hear the commotion from the car.
There's a part of you that enjoys knowing hes spiraling without you. The fact that hes now a complete crash out and is so horrendously down bad for you it nearly makes your heart flutter. But you push that sick flattery down looking at yourself in the side mirror before applying more of your nyx butter gloss on your plump lips.
“If you don't do it for him can you do it for me…please.”Yuji, sukunas younger brother asks, leaning forward from the back seat tall body squishing inbetween the seats of you and Choso. His puppy dog eyes and innocent demeanor are overwhelming… how could you say no. Sighing you look over at Choso with your most vicious glare lash extensions giving you a softer look though and made you look more like a vixen than a murderer.
“You're lucky he's too young to be a witness or accessory in your murder” you threaten before swinging your door open and climbing out. The bar doors feel heavy as you push it open and you feel disgusted even being here. It was where criminals hung out, where people sold drugs beyond just weed and a place nobody called the cops no matter what happened. You were a lady and had no reason being here.
But when you’re eyes land on him it’s like everything comes rushing back. How you met, where you met your first kiss first gift first fight and the last.
Was it shitty to stop coming to the shop whenever you knew he’d be there? Sure but you knew you weren't strong enough to do it with him around. All it would take is his eyes going soft on you and you'd fold.
It’s like he senses your energy, of course he could. He could spot you in a dark room he paused so much attention to you that he knew you anywhere. His eyes light up for just a second. There's a split moment of happiness before the rage returns 10 fold and he destroys everything in his path to you.
“I dont need you following me or doing anything out of pity” he gives you a bored expression before turning back to his messes he created with a proud look.
Scoffing, you look over towards Choso eyes catching a glimpse of the bar and actually looking at it this time. Bar stools were broken and destroyed, the pool table in half and bodies everywhere. The bartender wasnt even behind the bar. He nearly burned it down destroyed… everything. Its like he tore the bar down in search of something and began throwing a tantrum beating everyone senseless when he couldnt find it.
Turning completely away from sukuna you send a “are you serious look” toward his brother before stepping over the large body of a man, the heel of your shoe getting stuck for a second in the sticky blood. This was beyond your scope, absolutely nothing you could do. He was too far gone.
“Where are you going?” His voice hitting such a soft timbre makes you freeze along with Yuji but Choso has a knowing look. Like he knew all it took was for you two to see another again he no longer feels bad about tricking you saying he wanted to hangout just to get you here.
Sukuna instantly realizes how he sounds and scrambles to let out his rough demeanor.
“How dare you turn your back on me, woman” he seethes and you hated when he called you that it sounded so derogatory. But it reveals something to the other two in the room: all the rough words and acts of aggression was just him being hurt… who would've thought the great sukuna would be hurting and acting out like this all because he missed you.
He felt abandoned.
Turning back to him you look him directly in his eyes watching the internal battle, you can't even help your eyes trail over all the new muscles and ink on his body… he was the one shirtless in here.
“Dude you're standing in a pile of bodies people you picked fights with. I don't want to bail you out anymore” Choso says, frustrated with his brother who just glares at him unimpressed.
“So leave me i told you i don't need your money just leave me” he gritts out running a hand through his hair.
“And yuji?” His brother ask
“Yuji will be fine— people leave” sukuna speaks making sure to put emphasis on people leave while looking at you. He didn't get to do that, he didn't get to put you in this situation.
“We’re leaving” you say looking at the door but nobody moves, especially Sukuna who turns his head away from you and it’s like you could feel the heat of the room increasing.
“I said WE’RE leaving” and you pick up his motorcycle helmet and jacket shoving it into his chest and turning to walk out not leaving room for him to disagree. You smile when his heavy footsteps can be heard behind you and he makes sure to push the door open for you so you don't have to touch it.
As much of an ass as he is, he still makes sure to help you on his bike even offering his jacket so you don't freeze or have to worry about your skirt raising up as well as his helmet that still had the stupid Kuromi sticker you put on it months ago.
When he climbs on turning on the bike the engine roaring to life you hesitate wrapping your arms around his midsection which he scoffs at though you miss it over the load roar that has you clinging tighter onto him.
He smirks looking back at you before the two of you are flying down The streets of shibuya his frustration mild as all he can think of is your with the skirt on. He was too good of a driver to let you fall but he still had concern and fuck the way you’re legs looked and when did you dye your hair and—
He slows down pulling in to the garage of your building pulling into his usual parking spot that was spray painted with fire and skulls before cutting the engine. The walk to your apartment is silent. He doesn't know what to say and the last time he said something to you it was the wrong thing. He was starting to fume hating that you had this power over him, hating that he couldn’t just open his fucking mouth and talk swearing that in a past life he must’ve had several that wouldn’t stop moving so now he’s cursed with one that can’t move.
“Thanks for walking me to my door” you awkwardly say twirling the helmet in your hands before giving it back to him, a Kuromi sticker a stark contrast to the deep blood red. He licks his lips, feeling the way you look at him and suddenly feeling so small under your gaze.
“You should probably stop picking fights with people” you finally offer breaking the silence and hes instantly folds.
“I didn’t want to argue with you! I just think you can do better than that fucking cocky ass loser. I can’t believe you still went out with him” he rolls his eyes.
“I meant at bars” you tell him watching the way he gives you a blank stare to arrogant himself to acknowledge his own wrongs.
“And i didn’t go out with him” you add watching him scoff pulling out his phone and holding it up to you. The picture of you hugging Uraume only you can’t tell it’s them just you hugging a man with bright white hair screenshotted from Yuki's instagram.
“D’you think im a fucking idiot?!” He snaps, nearly crushing the phone in his hand which only causes you to laugh as you walk into your apartment kicking off your heels at the door. He follows only because he wants a explanation you were blatantly laughing in his face after being caught in a lie why the fuck was it so funny.
“Is that why your hair is red now? And you started wearing more makeup? And dressing more girly? And stopped coming to the shop as much” alright this was word vomit because what was he saying and what the fuck was he doing? He doesn't waste time with feelings such as these? Doesn’t care about insolent feelings like l—
“You’re an idiot if you don’t realize that’s your own fucking lap dog— its Uraume. They were outside and we were catching up i guess Yuki snapped the picture cause she thought it was cute” you giggle with a hand over your mouth watching as realization sets in.
“And my hair is maroon not red like the color of your eyes but obviously you hate it and my outfit and obviously you hate me because you went two months without talking to me and—“ your dramatically faint in his arms watching the way he smirks down at you when you peak an eye open missing the way it felt being so close to him and how quick his arms wrap around your midsection to stop you from falling. In a split second your cheek is being cupped in his large palm and his lips are on yours.
You aren’t expecting it arent expecting the softness of the action or his lips making your whole body freeze and eyes shut.
Oh.
OH.
FUCK!
He couldn’t help himself honestly his brain moved faster than his body he hasn’t even processed what he did and now he has to find a new tattoo artist, explain to everyone why you won’t be working there any more find a new tiny woman to annoy him and a cliff to throw himself off of—
“I knew this lip gloss made my lips kissable” and he’s back looking down at you with a bewildered expression watching the way you smile up at him still in his arms a slight dazed look to your eye and he swears he can see the little hearts in your pupils.
“I do hate you” he hisses with a smile pulling your lips back to his and this time you kiss back your hand reaching up to tug him closer making sure he knew exactly how you felt, letting your teeth graze his bottom lip pulling a small growl from him.
“Yeah. I like you too”
166 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it
Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v
After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.
The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.
After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.
That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.
“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.
“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.
Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.
Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.
“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.
“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him.
Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.
“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.
Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.
He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.
The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that?
Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.
Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off
“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.
“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.
In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.
Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him.
He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.
His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.
“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.
“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.
He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.
Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.
Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.
Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.
His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.
“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”
“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.
Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.
He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.
He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.
Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.
“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.
When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.
Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.
Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze.
There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.
“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
#cillian muphy x you#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy imagine#requested#ranaewrites
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black Alternative Music Recs
Not being Black myself, I hesitate to make myself a spokesperson specifically for Black alt artists as I don’t want to be tokenizing or reductive and I’d rather, like, uplift the voices of Black alt people than just make my own lists, BUT, I keep seeing people in the comments of recent posts about Death Grips asking for recs for more Black alternative artists, and I do know a good amount, so as a really basic list I wanted to throw out a few artists I really like—
Light Asylum: Darkwave. Really incredible vocalist, and openly queer. “Dark Allies” is a huge goth club hit but all of her work is great. I’ve seen her live twice and her live concerts are incredible too. One of the bigger Black goth artists.
Ho99o9: Punk/Industrial Hip Hop. Another big one, they’re pretty well known at this point but if you DON’T know them you should. Huuuge variety in sound here, all of it is so fun and solid, absolutely amazing energy.
clipping.: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Really fun and catchy, great lyrics, great mixing, great experimental electronic sound.
Void Palace: Industrial/EBM. Local LA-based act with an amazing industrial dance club sound and vibe. Seen them live and they bring such cool but crazy energy. Really really solid.
O. Children: Darkwave/Post Punk. Really classic gothic sound, amazing vocals, really underrated, theatrical, fun, and moody gothic rock.
Izzy Spears: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Openly gay alternative hip hop artist with a heavy and super danceable beat. I saw him live and he sounded great and had awesome punky energy.
LUSTSICKPUPPY: Punk/Electro-Industrial. Has almost a hyperpop sound sometimes, super high BPM high energy danceable electronic music with a really crazy theatrical style to their performances (kicking myself for missing them last year!). ETA: LSP uses they/them pronouns, corrected now but apologies for missing that irt any older iterations of this post floating around.
Baby Storme: Darkwave/Ethereal Pop. I think she got a bit of popularity on TikTok recently? I don’t use TikTok so idk, but she’s great. Really well mixed, fun, super solid dreamy darkwave with a dancey pop sound intermixed.
Grizz: Darkwave Hip Hop. I JUST discovered this artist, he’s another LA local who just put out a new single that’s getting some attention and he’s really good. Super cool goth fusion sound with really great classic darkwave electronic backing. Check him out!
Cold Gawd: Shoegaze/Post-Hardcore. Iconically sells merch that says “ABOLISH WHITE SHOEGAZE.” Absolute powerhouse of sound; I saw them live and their music sounded torrential, like this intense, powerful storm.
Debby Friday: Dark Electronic/Experimental Hip Hop. Really really haunting and dreamy gothic sound. Collaborates with artists like Boy Harsher. Superbly mixed. Lots of variety in sound but very consistently strong.
Dre Robinson: Industrial/Experimental Electronic. Longtime cEvin Key/Skinny Puppy collaborator. He was on stage with Skuppy during the recent live tour, doing sound and playing the maggot maracas (iykyk). He’s also been involved in a ton of cEvin’s solo work and accompanies him on stage for his live solo shows.
Charles Levi: Industrial/Industrial Rock. Wax Trax!/90s industrial icon, did work for My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult and Pigface. He’s recently had a bunch of serious health problems and has a GoFundMe up of you’d like to donate. He contributed to so much classic industrial rock, it’s crazy.
There’s a billion more. These are just some artists I genuinely really like personally who are Black, and I think all of them deserve a ton of support and recognition as contributors to the alternative scene. There’s so many amazing Black-fronted alternative bands and projects, and I’m just scratching the surface with artists I know and enjoy, Also considered listing some larger names like Yves Tumor and Tricky, but I feel they’re slightly more well known in the mainstream with ~1mil+ listeners on Spotify and I wanted to highlight some slightly more underground voices (to varying degrees—obviously some artists here are more well known than others).
Check them out!! Support Black alternative music!
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
there’s a post floating around here claiming that sokka is the only person keeping the atla kids alive and it very much reminded me of how the labor that women perform is often undervalued and overlooked. (and this post is not meant to be targeted towards op at all, but rather is speaking towards a general trend that i’ve noticed in the atla fandom)
i recently rewatched atla and it’s surprised me that the fandom interpretation is that only sokka is worried about the group’s lack of food/money, particularly in book 1, because katara worries over the exact same things and is usually the one backing up sokka. in “the warriors of kyoshi,” sokka reminds aang that they need to make it to the northern water tribe soon and stop making pitstops, and katara agrees with him. when they stop at kyoshi island, katara reminds aang multiple times that it’s risky to stay in one place for too long. in “the waterbending scroll,” sokka worries over how little money they have left after aang wastes money on a bison whistle, so katara takes charge of keeping track of the money instead, and she also reminds aang that they need to practice waterbending, not focus on having fun. in “the storm,” katara realizes they’re out of food and says they need to go to the market, then sokka gets a job so they’ll have more money for food. in “the king of omashu” and “the deserter,” sokka worries that aang will be discovered, and katara agrees so she suggests that they wear disguises. in “the cave of two lovers,” sokka says they need to focus on getting to omashu without getting sidetracked, and katara agrees. in “avatar day,” sokka and katara buy food/supplies together while aang waits for them.
despite sokka being seen as the pragmatic sibling, both katara and sokka are pretty united in their practicality and trying to keep their mission on track. katara only makes exceptions on a couple occasions when she values standing up against injustice even more than sticking to the plan, such as freeing the imprisoned earthbenders or helping the fire nation village as the painted lady. and the way that i've seen people use katara’s passion for social justice as a way to argue that she’s “irresponsible” seems a bit disingenuous considering that she sees it as a moral duty to help people in need (and let alone everything else she does on the day-to-day to help the group).
(“the library” is in fact the only episode in the entire show that i can remember where katara disagrees with sokka and says there’s no harm in having some fun in their downtime. and as soon as sokka finds out about the existence of the library he’s also fine with taking a break from their mission lol. despite what the fandom thinks, it’s not the norm).
and while there’s a lot of focus on sokka’s mapping/planning skills, there’s also so much that katara does so much behind the scenes that isn’t as explicitly acknowledged. “the chase” tells us that katara, aang, and sokka all contribute pretty equally to setting up their camp while traveling. in “jet” they all help pack up camp, in “the great divide” sokka sets up their tent, katara collects firewood, and aang gathers food. and yet even though they all seem to contribute pretty equally to setting up camp, we are shown so many scenes of katara doing extra chores while the others are preoccupied with something else. in “the southern air temple,” katara packs up their supplies while sokka is sleeping, then again packs up everything while sokka’s eating the food momo gave him. “the warriors of kyoshi” episode implies katara is the only one mending everyone’s clothes, and while sokka is getting his ass kicked training with the kyoshi warriors and aang is entertaining his fan girls, katara is shopping for food and supplies.
in “the painted lady,” the group all goes shopping for food together, but it’s katara who cooks dinner for everyone (shown twice in this episode). in “the runaway,” katara’s at camp cooking for everyone while they’re off tricking a gambler to make more money. sokka, aang, and toph buy food/supplies, then leave them with katara to sort out while they go have fun in the village (and sokka gets to buy his messenger hawk). and katara’s the one seen as a “buzzkill” for worrying about their safety. this pattern continues in “the western air temple” and “the firebending masters” where we see katara cooking and serving food to the group, but there aren’t scenes of them doing other chores.
and of course, “the desert” is an entire episode dedicated to katara keeping the group alive. and that’s not even to mention the countless amount of emotional support that she gives to her friends, often putting other people’s needs above her own. sure, katara might not be the person with the map or the master plan, but that doesn’t mean her contributions are any less important.
sokka’s character arc involves growing into a strong leader and strategist, so it makes sense that the fandom often likes to focus on the moments that go into building this arc, the moments where he does take the lead and is responsible. but for katara? it’s just something required of her and of most female characters. taking on extra responsibilities is something to be admired in men, but just expected of women.
and to be clear, i’m not saying that sokka is not responsible, he definitely is. i just find it interesting that some parts of this fandom have a skewed perception of katara’s role in the group, often claiming her to be the “irresponsible” or “immature” sibling while poor, exhausted Dad!Sokka™ is the only one keeping these silly kids alive. sokka and katara both had to grow up too fast, they’re both kids who are very mature for their age and took on adult responsibilities far too young (though in different ways). acknowledging the sacrifices katara made and the labor she took on to take care of others isn’t diminishing sokka’s character arc, it’s something he even admits in the show himself. and i love their relationship because even with such a complicated family dynamic, it’s so clear how much they love and support each other.
#sokka#katara#katara analysis#atla#atla fandom critical#“katara is the silly irrational girl while sokka is the mature dad who stepped up” do y'all even hear yourselves#i have a lot of thoughts about how the way that the fandom misinterprets sokka & katara's relationship#as like a reactionary mechanism against the potentially sexist writing of the source material#but that'll have to wait until another post#my post#my meta
191 notes
·
View notes
Text
If the Stormlight Archive Novels Were Rewritten From a New Perspective...
I'm thinking here of, like, a Secret History type thing where the same events that are detailed in the regular SA novels are rewritten from the perspective of a character who didn't previously narrate them. Like a fun little set of novellas that Sanderson could probably write on his coffee break or something...
[Warning: Big Stormlight Archive spoilers throughout!!]
1. Way of Kings...as told by Sadeas
I don't think we really got any POV from Sadeas in Way of Kings, since that would have spoiled the whole "planning-to-betray-Dalinar" thing. So I think it would be pretty nifty to see those events from a Sadeas' POV. We'd get to see what kind of info was filtering up about Kaladin and Bridge 4--like, what DID Sadeas think when he heard that the random bridgeman tied up in the storm survived? What was the scene like after Kaladin's side carry ruined that battle and Sadeas decided to execute the lighteyes in charge?
And what was Sadeas' inner monologue like during his every interaction with Dalinar? I want to see Sadeas and Ialai plotting before every feast, and then hear Sadeas inwardly rolling his eyes while pretending that he's just working for the good of the kingdom, totally not undermining Dalinar, nope nope.
And I'd love to see Sadeas' thoughts during the scenes post-betrayal with, like, Navani coming into Sadeas' camp to set fire to the giant Justice glyph and Dalinar showing up to trade his shardeblade for the bridgemen. Give me the Sadeas/Ialai scene that evening plz.
2. Words of Radiance...as told by Renarin
Here again, we have a book where a POV must be omitted in order not to spoil the ending: in this case, the late-book reveal that Renarin is a Knight Radiant as well. And I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to know what that whole book was like for Renarin!
How and when did Renarin meet Glys? What was the bonding like? How hard was it for Renarin to put on his armor & grab the screaming shardblade to join the 4 v. 1 duel to save his brother? Give me the angst of Renarin being convinced there there is something wrong with him, that he literally cannot fight the way he wants to even while he becomes a Radiant.
And um, what about scrawling the words on the walls during his dad's visions? I still want to know just how Renarin pulled that off without being noticed and also what the hell was he thinking?? I'd like to see him grapple with the angst of being a prophet in a world where that's sacrilegious, yet trying to pass the message anyway.
And just as a tiny note, does anybody else remember when Dalinar, Kaladin, and Shallan are having their We Are The Knights Radiant meeting at the top of Urithiru and then Renarin just like appears out of the shadows to be like "me too?" I kinda want to again know what he was thinking, lurking behind them literally all the way to the top before revealing himself at the most dramatic moment.
Anyway. I bet we'll get some of this in the Renarin book in the back half of Stormlight -- or at least, I hope so!
3. Oathbringer...as told by Jasnah
I bet you all are seeing the pattern here, ha ha! I think Jasnah's POV is restricted in Oathbringer because (a) she's supposed to be dead and (b) she knows about the humans being the actual Voidbringers and that can't be revealed immediately. But in a retelling, I'd love to see her tell-all.
What was that journey to Urithiru like with Wit? If we could get some flashbacks to her time in Shadesmar, that would be great, even though that's technically WOR again.
What was her inner monologue interacting with Shallan again? We know how it was for Shallan (suuuper awkward), but what did Jasnah think? What was it like to get to see Urithiru after she'd spent so much time researching it?
And it would be super interesting to get more of the relationship between Jasnah and her cousin Renarin. Like, when did Jasnah figure out that Renarin's spren was corrupted? When did she decide to kill him?
I think any and all extra Jasnah POVs from this period would be fascinating.
4. Rhythm of War...as told by Rlain
I was torn as to whether to have Rlain for Oathbringer or for Rhythm of War, but ultimately went with the latter. To be fair, we do get Rlain POV sections in ROW, but I want MORE.
If I remember correctly (it's been a minute since I last read ROW), we get a lot of Rlain's narrative from other characters' POV: like Kaladin or Venli interacting with Rlain and hearing about what he's been up to. Like "Oh yeah I've been spying and I found these maps" or "Oh yeah I've been working here with your family for a few days" and I want all of that to be told in long-form narrative please. ESPECIALLY Rlain hanging out with Kaladin's parents and little brother. I can't even remember anymore if him and Hesina being best friends is canon or fanon but I'd like to see it, plz.
I want to see more of Rlain being a spy, his angst about being in between Listeners and Humans, and his double agent heroism. I'd like to see more of his thoughts about Venli, maybe some flashbacks to his interactions among the Listeners back in the day.
And while I don't know if Renarin and Rlain interact at all really in ROW, I'll take any and all of Rlain's thoughts on Renarin and any scrap of interaction that could be woven in.
5. Bonus: Any Book...as told by Hesina
Honestly, I think a Hesina retelling of any of the 4 books would be awesome.
Way of Kings? We're gonna see the family interactions and the Roshone conflict from Hesina's perspective, not to mention the probably horrible aftermath of both of her sons being sent to war and then dying.
Words of Radiance? Uh...honestly I don't know what Hesina was up to during the events of that book but she had baby Oroden and I bet she was doing other stuff too.
Oathbringer? We get to see Kaladin's return from Hesina's perspective--Lirin was grumpy about him being a "killer" now, but I seem to recall that Hesina had awespren around her.
Rhythm of War? Let's see the move to Urithiru, settling in, her teasing Lirin about him worrying that surgeons won't be needed anymore... Plus, PLEASE give me Hesina's perspective on Kaladin's actions, on the invasion, on her very real and deep friendship with Rlain!
Yeah!
#whose perspective would you all want to see in the various books?#Stormlight Archive#Stormlight Archive Spoilers#Sadeas#Renarin#jasnah#Rlain#hesina
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
BB!TPB Titles
Having some fun just absentmindedly thinking of titles for the BB overhauls of main arc books. I think I'm gonna do it for all of them, because I actually really like renaming these and explaining my thought process
But here's TPB for now, because it's on my mind after that little scene bundle I wrote
Below the cut;
Arc Rename: The Prophecies Begin -> The Forest Four
Into the Wild -> Into the Clans
Fire and Ice -> Thermal and Undertow
Forest of Secrets -> Forest of Flowers
Rising Storm -> Rejected Rites
A Dangerous Path -> The Hunting Trail
The Darkest Hour -> Before the Dawn
The Forest Four
It's the intro to the original four, y'know? Plus, I use this term all the time in Clan Culture entries to specify when something is different about SkyClan from the "Forest Four." Makes sense it's the arc title.
Plus, there's a bit of a thing going on, especially in the later books, where the number of the Clans comes up a lot. Three Great Clans, but only four modern ones, River and Shadow combine to make TigerClan leaving three, BloodClan would make four, LionClan's alliance leaving two...
In BB, they know about SkyClan in history lessons, but Firestar doesn't think about it much until after this arc is done. More importantly, his choice to spare Scourge at the end of the arc suddenly means there's a Forest Four, and a Town One. I just think that's interesting.
(for some reason I also just love Scourge's insult where he calls Firestar a "forest fool" lmao. four forest fools.)
Into the Clans
The book with the expanded intro to the culture of the Clans. I feel like it's more fitting for BB to not call it "into the WILD" because... well, Clan cats DON'T see themselves as ""wild"" like animals. They're in Clans, with culture. They have ranks, politics, family, and even cooking and little kitty tools. It doesn't really make sense to me that they define themselves as "wild" just because their home has nature.
To them, loners are who's "wild," y'know? Rusty isn't totally coming to the Clans because it's wild, he's coming because of the community. Friendships and bonds with cats like Ravenpaw, Graystripe, Frostfur, Spottedleaf, Bluestar, and the sense that he could belong here. That he matters to these people.
This title's the one I'm actually waffling the most on, though. I don't like it very much yet. I don't feel like it captures the feeling I'm going for. It's also really close to a field guide title.
Thermal and Undertow
I've always interpreted "Fire and Ice" to be about how differently Graystripe and Fireheart are as people, and how that starts pulling them apart. The thing that people focus on is their "reconciliation" at the end of the book, but what stands out about it to me is that this is the book where Fireheart's TRULY integrated into the Clan.
His friendship with Graystripe is strained because of the HalfClan relationship Gray gets in, and he starts looking back to his roots for comfort because he doesn't feel like he's completely part of ThunderClan. I love this irony; they're BOTH struggling with loyalty in this broken system, experiencing types of xenophobia that prevent them from having happiness, but not yet wise enough to recognize they have a similar problem.
They're both breaking the law to talk to outsiders. Their forbidden love, both familial and romantic, makes Clan life harder. They're BOTH not doing anything wrong, but the STRUCTURE of their society is setting them against each other.
Graystripe responds, eventually, by leaving. Fireheart thinks he can make a home where he is. They're both wrong. The STRUCTURE needs to be challenged.
And meanwhile, they must go to fetch WindClan after it was driven out. They have to face RiverClan AND ShadowClan when Crookedstar and Nightstar show that power acts through them, as leaders. All the while, they experience the simple truth that love for cats in other Clans makes cruel, bloodthirsty battles like these too difficult to be sustainable.
And that's just canon!! I fucking love this book!!!
So in the rename, I'm putting emphasis on the natural flow, above and below. A wind is controlled by the temperature, rising up into a warm thermal. An undertow is a ferocious current that will pull you into the cold depths. They're not so different, in the end.
Forest of Flowers
And that leads right into canon's Forest of Secrets, where we learn that the older warriors also struggled with those pressures. Fireheart and Graystripe were never alone, cats have been suffering under this cruel system for GENERATIONS.
In BB, this is where I'm dropping the flower symbolism for the three major branches of politics in Forest Four society, which persist and are expanded on for the rest of BB;
Traditionalism, represented by the Honeysuckle, is used to justify the current system. "The Clans are branches of a honeysuckle bush. We fight and strangle each other for the light, and this prunes the weakest sprigs and rewards the fittest. When the winter comes, the strongest branches ensure the survival of the bush."
He also learns, much earlier, of Tigerstar's mentor. He hears the Parable of the Thistle, a story about how a young apprentice was forced to attempt to uproot a bull thistle, only managing to spread its seeds across a clearing, and won a trip to the Cleric's den for the trouble. How Tigerstar, and others, believe the honeysuckle must be challenged.
And meanwhile, he uncovers the story of the Forget-me-nots. A friend group even stronger than his collection of allies, with cats of every Clan, and how ambition drove it apart. How Bluestar looks back at it with both silly shame and deep appreciation.
The kindling ember in Fireheart's chest as he realizes he is the heir of a Forget-me-not, and that surrounding the obvious slash across Tigerclaw's nose, are the subtle pockmarks of thistle thorns.
Rejected Rites
I feel like Rising Storm is the "weakest" book of TPB, because it's where canon's cracks begin to show.
There's still a lot I love about this book. I love the way that Bluestar's cruelty arc begins with her grace and altruism towards other Clans not being returned without a catch. I adore the rescue of Bramblekit and Yellowfang’s guilty, harrowing death insisting she deserves judgement as Fireheart insists she is a good person. Its harsh ending revealing Tigerstar as leader of ShadowClan is a gut punch in an already brutal book, making an excellent mid-arc climax
But I feel its sudden turn towards suggesting the status quo was actually good drags it down.
For example, Cloudpaw is constantly arguing with Fireheart, in ridiculous fights Fire started. He's abducted by humans and returns in the same book, suggesting his uncle was totally right all along and he Totally Promises he won't mess with humans any more. The fact Fire was projecting on his young nephew and denying him answers when he questions their way of life, in a way very similar to the shame Firepaw himself went through, is not addressed.
A lot more of this book than you remember is also dedicated to Fireheart and Sandstorm arguing because the writers think a good romance is when you hate each other but stay together anyway.
So instead, this book in BB focuses more on what I DO like; Fireheart learning to be a LEADER. He's young, inexperienced, and has acted mostly alone up to this point. The Clan is in a moment of SERIOUS tumult as it reckons with how no one saw ANY signs about Tigerclaw.
As he loses his mentor Bluestar to paranoia, he has to learn which warriors are truly trustworthy, and try to win back those whose loyalties might stray.
In this way, Rejected Rites is about the WHOLE Clan. It's Whitestorm throwing his reputation and experience behind Fireheart. It's Goldenflower and how her disgust with her ex-mate blows her mind open and she shifts into Fire's most ferocious champion. It's Mousefur deciding that Tigerclaw was a uniquely bad person and refusing to admit fault with a Clan that supported him.
And of course it's about Cloudpaw, grappling with how Fireheart insists he's his mentor, not his father, not his friend, going back to how he botches the Queen’s Rights on bringing him to the Clan. Fireheart, too, is a flawed person capable of being complicit in damaging systems.
The Hunting Trail
The dog plot barely needs a recap, it's this fandom's bread and butter. But there's a small, VERY popular misconception about; in canon, Tigerstar only uses the dogs at the END of this book with a rabbit trick. Before that, the dogs are practically a natural disaster he has nothing to do with.
There's a reason why it's misremembered. It works better if he's more involved with them the whole time, showing how DANGEROUS he is, how Bluestar's fixation on her war with StarClan is blinding her to reality, and adding to the tragedy and madness by having Swiftpaw getting wrapped up in his father's/stepfather's quest for revenge.
So in BB, Tigerstar's involved MUCH sooner. He freed the dogs.
The title change reflects that. There's a hunting trail and the cats of ThunderClan are its prey, but it doesn't specify who the predator is. In the end, it was Tigerstar's scheme all along and Bluestar sacrifices herself to save her apprentice.
(I also want to take the moment to highlight how short-sighted and impulsive Tigerstar's plans actually are, something I find fascinating about him as a character. He's malicious and intelligent enough to make some incredible schemes, taking advantage of every opportunity. But he never accounts for details like... "what if my dogs don't go right to where I want them to go?" or "what if I'm not picked as deputy after I kill Redtail?" or even "what will i do after my demons kill all the living cats?")
TigerClan is also forming earlier. It begins in THIS book. Stonefur and Mistyfoot are "detained" after leaping into the ravine to rescue Fireheart and Bluestar, it's all the "evidence" Tigerstar needed to accuse them of divided loyalty. To finally start his persecution of HalfClan cats.
Before the Dawn
...In spite of its iconic moments, I'll be honest; Darkest Hour is actually the book that makes me the angriest about the original series.
All arc long, we are shown that the Clans are flawed. They have been, long before Rusty set foot in the woods that day. It NEEDS bigotry to exist the way it does, fostering xenophobia between Clan cats so that love and friendship won't get in the way of violence, encouraging and even rewarding extreme Jingoism, and even setting clanmates against each other for these senseless problems instead of the STRUCTURE of Clan society.
Darkest Hour SLAMS the breaks on that theme, and brings the message to a screeching halt.
FIRST of all, this is the book where it's explicitly stated that StarClan "doesn't interfere," even giving them a moment where they yell at protagonist about free will or whatever while simultaneously barking a vague, ultimately useless prophecy at him. The first of many scenes like it in later arcs. It feels completely and utterly out of left field, instantly turning StarClan from a mysterious, possibly not even fully benevolent force, into THE most annoying plot device ever.
Secondly... BloodClan.
BloodClan is introduced as a TRULY EVIL group of horrible atheists who hate love and friendship, to the point of banning families, and are now here to destroy our glorious society and steal our home. They're depicted as being ruled by fear and brutality, unbound by concepts like "honor" or "loyalty." You cannot reason with them or spare their lives, the barbarians must be killed and kept out, lest they replace us.
(there is even a moment where it's implied that if the soldiers lose the war, BloodClan will come and murder the elders and children too.)
It is SO bad and SO egregious, and it's played completely unironically. It bothers me so badly I've talked about it before. Multiple times, actually
After Tigerstar gets his well-deserved grallocking like a 10-point buck, the endgame villain of TPB is a foreigner and his army. Scourge is a foil of Firestar himself, but THIS one hates the clans and doesn't worship the right god, which makes him dangerous. Firestar is textually stronger than him because of his faith in StarClan.
At the end of the day, TPB, and the rest of the series that follows, doesn't refute Tigerstar's ideology. It even agrees. Weakness IS abhorrent. Outsiders ARE to be distrusted. Split loyalties ARE detestable. It just didn't like that he challenged the status quo.
Foreigners and their leaders ARE less trustworthy and more villainous than Clan cats. Wariness and even violence towards them is necessary, "justifying" the isolationist structure of the Clans. Scourge is only the first in a very long chain; then comes Sol, One Eye, Slash, and Darktail. Even Hawkfrost and Willow Tail can fit into this pattern.
With the death of these evil, troublemaking cats, the Clans return to the status quo. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The Darkest Hour frames this like a wonderful, triumphant thing, with Firestar noting how the now-leaderless BloodClan fighters look so inferior to Clan warriors, Scourge's evil will never haunt them again (Tigerstar gets to be grieved though), and that with LionClan disbanding, they will all return to their petty bullshit squabbles.
So, BB's renaming.
I had a lot of ideas. I really liked the name "Moment of Truth" because it's the book that really brings together the theme of the arc, ending with Firestar realizing Scourge is right to distrust the Clans and that change is DESPERATELY needed, but the more I thought about it... the more I liked Before the Dawn
Reference to the phrase "The darkest hour comes before the dawn" BB is a much more optimistic story than canon, by tweaking the themes and details while following the major beats. Something is just... idk poetic? About picking the more uplifting part of the idiom. It feels right, like it's almost too perfect to go with any other title
It's a new era for the culture going foward It IS right before a "new dawn." It's the start of major changes to Clan culture, setting the events of the rest of BB into motion. The years and generations that follow are going to see major changes to the code, territory, culture, and philosophy in the universe. The choice that Firestar makes here is going to bring the Clans into a new epoch. Plus the cats are crepuscular now so I can literally have the final battle take place just before dawn because subtext is for CHUMPS
I like the idea of opening up the next arc with Dawn Just because that's really funny to me lmaoo. Something is cute about titles that reference each other. Maybe the first book of TNP could be "Dawn of the End" since the destruction of the forest starts early. Maybe add in some apocalyptic prophecies and such...
#I don't think I will update the tags... not yet at least.#Not until I manage to scrounge together a good summary ... post thingie#Something akin to a masterpost#Btw the Clanmew masterpost broke OTL#I can't edit it with new links so im gonna need to make a new onr#Which is fine i guess since the old one wasnt like... scalable#It was messy#But looooord can tumblr work pls#Better bones au#BB!TPB
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
The last of our monthly recs for 2023 ❤️ Every Day’s a Holiday (When I’m Near to You) by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)
@dot524: I loved every bit of this road trip fic. Henry has a crush on Alex and impulsively decides to join him on a road trip to Texas, which turns out to be longer than expected. The delicious yearning, only-one-bed situations, and funny road-trip pit stops made this a great story. I didn’t want to stop reading.
@heybuddy-drabbles: this ticked all my boxes honestly. The pinning, the yearning. The friendship they build while falling in love. And then the love, wild and unstoppable and so free. It was just perfect.
I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard? by dollarstoreannabethchase (book-verse)
@dot524: A deliciously angsty Henry POV of key events in the book - lake house & storming of Kensington Palace. Broke my heart and put it back together again. The description of his depression and pain made me want to give Henry a hug.
Last Christmas by @celaestis1 (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Enemies to lovers meets Christmas feels and found family. The establishment of every relationship, both romantic and platonic, in this fic is fantastic too!
Never Did Run Smooth by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)
@dot524: What a delightful ride! I loved the unique reality-show setup and the roommates/best friends to lovers pining from Henry’s POV. It had a few fun plot turns that kept me guessing and many scenes that made me grin like an idiot (e.g. a cake-baking contest and partner yoga with someone else). This isn’t exactly an undiscovered gem based on the number of comments and kudos — but I hadn’t read it, so I wanted to spread the word for those new to the fandom!
No Consequences by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)
@thesleepyskipper: In this AU where Henry is still the Prince but Alex is a civil rights lawyer who works with Pez, the author has given us an incredible meet cute!! Alex pulls an Alex and shoots his shot for a selfie that turns out pretty well for him in the end. 😏 The author’s writing of Alex here is absolutely spot on AND hilarious. I still can’t believe this is their first published fic!!!
@zwiazdziarka: this fic has everything one could ask for: it's funny, it's cute, it's awkward, it's hot and addictive. I can't stop thinking about this version of Alex and Henry and their characterisation is absolutely perfect!
Made For Love by @candyspandemonium (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: AU where Henry and June are ice dancing champions and Alex has a lot of feelings about some guy stealing his sister. There are just so many good things in this fic - emotions, Alex being totally unhinged and not realising what it means, Henry as perfect fantasy, dealing with media and public opinion - and all that in nice scenery of ice rinks. Can't recommend it enough!
(Secret) Santa Baby by @indomitable-love (book-verse)
@dot524: Such a sweet AU about office romance between Alex and Henry and how a Secret Santa gift & being paired together on a project leads to something more. Heartwarming and made me smile… this writer’s characterization of Alex & Henry is always spot-on for me, no matter the universe.
The Royal Magician and the Ravens of the Tower of London by @bluflamingo (book-verse)
@suseagull04: The world-building in this fic is phenomenal! It's the perfect blend of magical realms and the real world, mystery and magic AU, and I love it!
could it be mad love? by @duchessdepolignaca03 (book/movie-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: actors AU, but also Henry is Alex's biggest fan and his awkward celebrity crush adds all new flavour to their relationship once they meet. The range of emotions fit in this story is truely amazing. There's so much tension and every moment feels like the one where it all can turn into a dissaster or something absolutely wonderful.
where every wish comes true by @hypnostheory (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: Neighbors!au + fuck buddies. Alex locks himself out of his apartment in a filthy costume and his neighbor and fuck buddie Henry takes him in. It's very funny and sexy!!
149 notes
·
View notes
Text
⇢ ˗ˏˋ zeus cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ
a/n: these are my headcanons for the children of zeus! i love thinking about what traits kids of certain gods and goddesses would have, and since zeus is the king of the gods, i thought it would only be fitting to start with zeus! these are less about like powers and stuff like that and more just about how they would be as people!
zeus kids can get kinda crazy
they're always the life of the party, and yet somehow they also shut down the party?
they're just good at knowing when things are getting too out of hand
speaking of knowing things
it's almost as if they have a sixth sense in knowing things, just like general things
oh this person liked this other person
the zeus kids already knew
you cheated on your math test?
yeah, they had a feeling
that kinda stuff
zeus kids also all weirdly have this universal little tic where when they're really bored, they'll rub their hands against something that can create static, and then play with the static in their hands
they can do the thing where they kind of roll it from one finger to another, and then back again
they can also utilize this to shock people, but only ever so slightly
technically they could summon a whole storm and electrocute someone, but very rarely do they have that urge
another thing to mention:
zeus children can hold a grudge
they're masters at being mad at someone for something they did days, weeks, months, or even years in the past that likely they forgot they did
but zeus kids didn't
they never forget
honestly even a bad first impression can really affect your relationship with a child of zeus, because they don't forget things easily
their minds are steel traps
children of zeus are also natural born leaders
this can cause quite the scene when there are multiple zeus kids up for a leadership position because they all fall into a leader role just naturally
a lot of people appreciate this because they're saved from having to lead themselves
but others find this incredibly annoying, and think that zeus kids are all very arrogant and full of themselves
there are some that are like that, thinking they're better because their dad is zeus
but that kind of reaction to being a child of zeus is pretty rare
most of the time it brings them great annoyance because monsters can smell them from farther away, and it makes them much more eligible for dangerous quests, which sometimes is a good thing, but when the mortality rate for a quest that dangerous is usually 0, it can be a little daunting
probably the best trait that children of zeus possess is their loyalty
i understand that this probably doesn't make much sense, considering the fact that zeus was never really known for being very loyal to pretty much anyone in his life
but zeus kids are
this is observed the best during battle, when they would do anything and everything for the people fighting alongside them
they're loyal friends and lovers, too
which, again, doesn't make a lot of sense when looking at who their dad is
but a lot of their lives have been negatively affected by him being disloyal, so a lot of them have a tendency to make sure they're loyal so that they don't end up like him
as amazing as zeus thinks he is, a lot of his kids aren't his biggest fans
in conclusion, zeus kids are pretty cool
they definitely have their flaws
(such as having a tendency to flake last minute when it comes to making plans with other people)
but ultimately they're pretty good people
they're very skilled when it comes to battle, and they're good friends
basically just good people to surround yourself with
a/n: so i won't be doing author's notes at the end of everything, but i just wanted to thank you for reading my very first official post! i'm going to be doing headcanons for the other gods and goddesses, both major and minor, because i just find writing for that kinda stuff really fun! also i really love headcanons (totally not because they're easier to write than full fics, definitely not at all)
anyways, thanks for reading, and be on a lookout for more stuff in the future!
#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#demigods#demigod stuff#zeus#children of zeus#zeus kids#jason grace x reader#percy jackson x reader#thalia grace x reader#zeus x reader
400 notes
·
View notes
Text
Claw and Order: Romance Unit
CHAPTER 1: The Doctor Will See You Now
The small waiting room of Tranquil Health Clinic buzzed with the kind of energy only found in places where people were either nervously anticipating a doctor’s visit or just trying to distract themselves from the possibility of imminent doom. Magazines from two years ago littered the coffee table, a collection of diet tips and home remedies that hadn’t aged well. A tattered, dusty potted plant sat in the corner, as if it had been fighting a losing battle for attention.
In the midst of this chaotic calm sat Emma Turner, a thirty-something writer who had just realized she was dangerously low on inspiration. She tapped her foot nervously, glancing at her watch for the third time in five minutes. A doctor’s appointment wasn’t her idea of a creative breakthrough, but her headache had been persistent for days. At least, she mused, this might provide material for her next novel—a romantic comedy about the perils of modern life.
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of Wade Wilson, known to some as the “Merc with a Mouth.” Clad in his signature red and black suit, Wade swaggered into the room, practically glowing with an obnoxious charisma that was equal parts charming and infuriating.
“Hey, look! It’s the waiting room for the world’s most boring reality show,” he quipped, plopping down beside her. “I give it a solid 2 out of 10. Needs more explosions.”
Emma shot him a bemused look. “You know this isn’t a movie set, right?”
“Not yet,” he replied, winking. “But I’m thinking of pitching it. How about Waiting Room Warriors? It’ll be a hit!”
Just then, Johnny Storm, a.k.a. the Human Torch, burst in through the door with all the grace of a flaming comet. “Wade! Emma! Sorry I’m late! You wouldn’t believe the traffic. I had to stop and help a cat out of a tree. Seriously, it was like a scene from a cheesy rom-com.”
Wade scoffed. “You? Helping a cat? I’m pretty sure that’s a violation of your cool guy contract.”
“Hey, I can be heroic when I want to be,” Johnny retorted, crossing his arms. “You’ve seen me save the world, right?”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “If by ‘save the world’ you mean setting fire to it half the time, then yes.”
“Touché,” Johnny grinned, taking a seat across from her. “But at least I do it in style. How about you, Emma? Still writing the next great American novel?”
“I’m trying, but inspiration’s a little hard to come by when you’re stuck in a waiting room with Deadpool and a human torch,” she said, motioning to both of them.
Wade’s eyes widened. “So, what you’re saying is you want me to explode something to get your creative juices flowing? I can do that!”
Before she could respond, the door to the examination room swung open, and Dr. Logan Howlett, the clinic’s rather disheveled but undeniably charming physician, stepped out. His hair was a chaotic tumble of dark strands, and his scrubs looked as if they’d seen a few too many late nights. But there was something captivating about him—perhaps it was the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.
“Emma Turner?” he called, scanning the room until his gaze landed on her. “Come on in. Let’s see what’s going on with that headache of yours.”
Emma stood, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Howlett.”
“Please, call me Logan,” he said, offering a warm smile that could melt glaciers. “I promise I’m much more fun than this place suggests.”
As she followed him into the examination room, Wade leaned over to Johnny, whispering conspiratorially. “Think she’s going to fall for him? He’s got that brooding doctor thing down to a science.”
“Only if she’s into the whole ‘mysterious and slightly disheveled’ vibe,” Johnny replied, watching Emma disappear behind the door. “But hey, she could do worse. At least he’s not a total creep.”
Inside the examination room, Emma took a seat on the examination table, suddenly feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. Logan was now leaning against the counter, a casual ease to his posture that made her feel oddly comfortable.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” he asked, pulling out his stethoscope.
“My head has been pounding for a few days now,” she replied, trying to ignore how handsome he looked in his scrubs. “I thought it might be stress, but honestly, it could just be that I’m surrounded by too many people with questionable life choices.”
Logan chuckled, the sound warm and infectious. “Ah, the perils of modern society. A cure for that is hard to come by, but I can at least help with the headache.” He leaned closer, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Any other symptoms? Nausea? Sensitivity to light?”
“Nope, just a persistent headache and occasional existential dread,” she joked, surprised at her own boldness.
“Classic combo,” he replied with a smirk. “I recommend lots of water, maybe some rest, and if that doesn’t work, I could prescribe something stronger. Or… we could just blow up a waiting room together. Your choice.”
Emma laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Blowing up a waiting room sounds a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Hey, you only live once, right?” Logan quipped, standing back to assess her. “But in all seriousness, I think you might be a little dehydrated. I’ll get you some water, and let’s see if that helps.”
As he turned to fetch a cup from the sink, Emma found herself captivated by the way he moved, an effortless grace that made her heart race. She’d never been one to crush easily, but something about him stirred something inside her that she hadn’t felt in years.
“Thanks for being so… well, easy to talk to,” she said, surprising herself with her own vulnerability.
Logan paused, looking back at her with a curious smile. “That’s my job. But it’s nice to hear I’m succeeding. Not everyone enjoys talking about their headaches.”
“I’m usually a lot more interesting than this,” she said, waving a hand as if to dismiss her own complaints. “I write romance novels, you know. It’s all about the tension and the build-up.”
“Tension and build-up? Sounds like you’ve got a plot twist waiting to happen,” Logan said, handing her the water. “I bet you could write a compelling story about a patient who falls for their doctor. Might make a nice change from the usual ‘meet-cute’ in a coffee shop.”
Emma raised her eyebrows, her heart skipping a beat. “Are you suggesting I base a character on you?”
“Only if you promise to make me more dashing than I really am,” he said with a playful grin.
“Deal,” she said, unable to suppress her laughter. “But only if you promise to read it when I’m done.”
“Now that’s a deal I can get behind,” he replied, looking into her eyes with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Just then, the door burst open again, revealing Wade and Johnny, who had decided to perform an impromptu check-up of their own. “So, how’s it going in here?” Wade asked, peering over Emma’s shoulder. “Did you find a tumor or is she just being melodramatic?”
Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Just a headache, Wade. Nothing that requires your… unique expertise.”
“Pfft, just a headache? Come on! Where’s the fun in that?” Wade exclaimed. “We should stage an intervention! Emma, do you want me to whip up a batch of my special Deadpool elixir? It’s guaranteed to cure any ailment—or at least make you forget about it for a few hours.”
“Sounds like a plan!” Johnny chimed in. “Plus, it’ll definitely make for some great Instagram content. ‘Writer gets cured by Deadpool’s magic juice!’”
Emma shook her head, unable to contain her laughter. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick to the water for now.”
“Boring!” Wade lamented dramatically, throwing his arms up in the air. “I’m starting to think you don’t appreciate my brilliance.”
“Or your questionable taste in ‘cures,’” Emma shot back, feeling more at ease with both Logan and her outrageous friends.
Logan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. “I think we all appreciate Wade’s unique charm, even if it’s just for entertainment value.”
As the banter continued, Emma couldn’t help but feel a spark of something special in the air. It was as if the universe had conspired to throw her into a chaotic whirlwind of humor, friendship, and maybe—just maybe—something more.
“So, what do you do for fun, Emma?” Logan asked, his voice drawing her attention back to him.
“I write, obviously. But I also like to explore new places, discover hidden gems in the city, and… well, occasionally save cats from trees,” she said with a smirk, recalling Johnny’s earlier story.
“Well, if you ever need a partner in crime for your next
adventure, count me in,” Logan said, his expression sincere.
Emma’s heart fluttered. “I might just take you up on that.”
“Great! We can be like Batman and Robin, only with fewer capes and more coffee,” he replied, chuckling.
“Speaking of coffee,” Wade interjected, leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “How about we all grab some after this? I promise I won’t set anything on fire… unless Johnny does it first.”
“Hey!” Johnny protested, throwing his hands up. “I can be responsible! Sometimes.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I think I’ll pass on the fire hazard. But coffee sounds good. You’re welcome to join us, Emma, if you’re up for it.”
“Sure! Why not?” she replied, her excitement bubbling. The thought of spending more time with Logan sent a thrill through her.
Wade grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Perfect! The gang’s back together. Now we just need a theme song. Something catchy. How about ‘Eye of the Tiger’? It’s motivational!”
“Or maybe ‘I Will Survive,’” Johnny suggested, a playful smirk on his face. “Because let’s be honest, we’re gonna need it after spending time with you.”
Emma laughed, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.”
As the banter continued, the camaraderie between them made Emma feel at ease. It was refreshing, and for the first time in a while, she found herself forgetting about her headache and simply enjoying the moment.
“Well, Emma,” Logan said, turning his attention back to her. “I’ll just wrap up a quick examination, and then we can get out of here.”
“Sounds good,” she replied, a smile lingering on her lips.
Logan examined her briefly, checking her vitals and nodding in approval. “Everything looks normal. I’ll just jot down a prescription for some pain relief, and you’ll be on your way.”
“Pain relief? Or ‘pain relief’?” Wade asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Trust me, it’s the legal kind,” Logan deadpanned, shaking his head. “Though I can’t speak for Wade’s concoctions.”
“Touché!” Wade exclaimed. “But you’re missing out on the fun, Doc. Life’s too short to be serious all the time.”
As Logan handed Emma the prescription, their fingers brushed against each other, sending an unexpected jolt of electricity between them. Emma looked up, caught in his gaze, and for a moment, the world outside faded away.
“Thanks, Logan,” she said softly, her heart racing.
“Anytime, Emma,” he replied, his voice low and genuine.
With a wink, Wade broke the moment. “Well, now that the doctor has made his diagnosis, can we get to the fun part? Coffee and chaos, here we come!”
As they stepped out of the examination room, the energy shifted, the air crackling with possibilities. Emma felt buoyant, her headache momentarily forgotten. She had no idea where this day would lead her, but she was ready for the adventure.
Together, the four of them exited the clinic, the chaotic charm of their friendship promising a day filled with laughter and unexpected moments. Little did Emma know, this was only the beginning of something much bigger than she could have ever imagined.
As they made their way to the café down the street, the laughter and teasing continued, punctuated by Wade’s outrageous antics and Johnny’s flamboyant storytelling. Emma found herself falling into a comfortable rhythm with Logan, stealing glances at him as he interacted with her friends.
“Okay, but for real,” Wade said, stopping abruptly as they reached the café. “Do we order something weird? Like a ‘Wade Wilson Special’? I feel like it needs a special name.”
“Can we just order coffee?” Emma replied, stifling a laugh. “I’m not sure the world is ready for a ‘Wade Wilson Special.’”
“Too late! I already filed the paperwork!” Wade declared dramatically, striking a pose as if he were the star of a one-man show.
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s just keep it simple. Coffee, pastries, and no superhero-inspired concoctions, okay?”
Johnny grinned. “What about a ‘Johnny Storm Delight’? That sounds much better!”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You two are impossible.”
As they settled at a table outside, the sun casting a warm glow around them, Emma felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Between the chaos and camaraderie, her heart danced with the thrill of new connections—and the fluttering hope that perhaps there was something more with Logan.
As they waited for their orders, Emma leaned back in her chair, feeling the energy of the moment envelop her. “So, what’s the plan for today? Other than avoiding creating a public disturbance, of course.”
“Adventure!” Wade exclaimed, flinging his arms wide. “We could take over a local park, or maybe we could hunt for the best donut in the city. Or both!”
“I’m in for donuts,” Johnny said, his eyes sparkling. “Count me in!”
Logan chuckled, his gaze shifting to Emma. “What about you? Any preference for our impromptu adventure?”
Emma bit her lip, her mind racing with possibilities. “How about we find the weirdest little spot in the city? You know, the kind of place that feels like it belongs in a story?”
“I love it! A treasure hunt for hidden gems,” Johnny agreed, grinning.
“Then it’s settled,” Logan said, his eyes brightening. “Let’s make some memories.”
As their orders arrived—much to Wade’s delight, who insisted on commandeering the best pastry—Emma felt the warmth of friendship wash over her, mingled with the undeniable spark she felt whenever Logan was near. It was a dizzying mix of excitement and possibility, and for the first time in ages, she felt truly alive.
After a few rounds of banter and some delicious treats, they finished their coffee and set off on their adventure. Emma found herself walking beside Logan, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they exchanged stories of their lives.
“So, tell me about your writing,” Logan asked, genuinely interested. “What do you like to write about?”
Emma hesitated for a moment, then decided to share. “I focus on romance—mostly. I like to explore the messiness of relationships, the quirks that make us who we are. I guess I’m trying to find a bit of magic in the mundane.”
“That’s a beautiful way to look at it,” Logan replied, his tone sincere. “There’s magic in the everyday if you know where to look.”
As they continued to stroll, Emma felt a connection growing between them. The playful teasing from Wade and Johnny faded into the background, leaving her and Logan wrapped in their own little world.
“Okay, I think we need a challenge,” Wade declared, suddenly appearing beside them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Let’s see who can find the weirdest spot in the next hour!”
Emma exchanged a glance with Logan, a silent agreement passing between them. “You’re on,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.
With that, the group split up, each taking a different route, all in the name of friendly competition. Emma and Logan wandered through the streets, playfully poking fun at random shops and quirky buildings, their laughter echoing off the brick walls.
“I think we just passed the ‘World’s Largest Ball of Twine,’” Logan joked, glancing back at the nondescript building they had just passed. “Definitely a contender.”
Emma laughed, shaking her head. “We should’ve taken a picture. I bet it would’ve made a great addition to my next book!”
As they turned a corner, a charming little bookstore caught their attention. Its windows were filled with mismatched books and cozy displays. “What about here?” Emma suggested, her eyes lighting up.
“Perfect! Let’s see what treasures await inside,” Logan replied, holding the door open for her.
Inside, the scent of aged paper and the faint sound of a cat purring enveloped them. Emma wandered through the aisles, running her fingers along the spines of the books, her heart swelling with a sense of belonging.
“Do you have a favorite genre?” Logan asked, joining her in the fiction section.
“Romance, of course,” she said, glancing at him. “But I’m also a sucker for thrillers. It’s all about the balance, right?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, his gaze intense. “I think there’s something romantic about danger, don’t you? It adds that extra layer of tension.”
Emma felt her pulse quicken at his words. “Definitely. It’s all about the thrill of the chase.”
Just then, Wade and Johnny burst in, looking triumphant. “You’re not going to believe what we found!” Wade declared, holding up a bizarrely shaped ceramic cat statue. “This beauty is going to be the centerpiece of my collection!”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “That’s not weird; it’s just tacky.”
“Who are you to judge my taste?” Wade shot back. “You’re wearing flame-printed pants!”
Logan and Emma exchanged amused glances, their laughter blending with the playful banter of their friends. “We found a bookstore,” Logan said, motioning to the shelves around them. “What do you think?”
“Bookstores are great, but have you seen this?” Wade exclaimed, waving the cat statue in the air. “It’s a conversation starter!”
Emma couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. The chaos, the laughter, the camaraderie—it felt like a scene from one of her novels, and she was
living it.
“Okay, okay, let’s make a deal,” Johnny suggested, raising a finger. “We’ll vote on the weirdest item, and the winner gets to choose our next adventure.”
“Fine by me,” Emma replied, excitement bubbling within her.
After a brief deliberation, they all voted, laughter ringing out as they debated the merits of Wade’s cat versus the various oddities they found in the bookstore. In the end, it was Logan’s suggestion to combine their findings into a new, bizarre creation that sealed the deal—Wade’s cat would wear Johnny’s flame pants and Emma’s latest novel would serve as the backdrop.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the city, Emma felt a sense of joy that she hadn’t expected. This day had turned out to be an unexpected whirlwind of laughter, friendship, and a glimmer of something more with Logan.
As they left the bookstore, Wade announced, “Time for our next adventure! But first, we need to document this for Instagram!”
Logan chuckled. “What’s the plan? A group photo with the weird cat?”
“Absolutely!” Wade declared, his camera already at the ready.
As they all gathered for the photo, Emma found herself standing next to Logan, their shoulders brushing against each other. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and her heart raced in anticipation.
“Say ‘cheese’!” Wade called out, and they all smiled, capturing the moment forever.
As the photo was taken, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something wonderful. Surrounded by friends, laughter, and the thrill of new possibilities, she felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years.
With her friends by her side and the charm of the day lingering in the air, Emma couldn’t help but believe that life had a way of leading you exactly where you needed to be. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was leading her to a budding romance with Dr. Logan Howlett.
As they made their way to their next destination, Emma felt a sense of hope blossoming in her heart. The adventure was only just beginning, and she was ready to embrace whatever came next.
end.
Author: Let me now any ideas y'all have comments are much much appreciated
#hugh jackman#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine xmen#logan wolverine#the wolverine#james howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett#logan smut#logan james howlett#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#hugh jackman x you#deadpool 3#worst wolverine#x men origins wolverine#books and reading#original character#character#original post#creation#captain america#logan#wade wilson#the worst wolverine#wade x logan
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Artists of Deception - Odysseus x Wife!Reader
Troy (2004) Oneshot
Requested by @blackedropedreaper
" (...) For Odysseus: (reader is female) Y/n is his wife and most trusted adviser. They're sitting in the hills, she's playing a lyre, while he's looking after the sheep and petting his dog. They're having a good time, but are soon interrupted by the messengers of king Agamenmon(?)."
Sure! This one is shorter than the last one, but i feel it plays quite nicely with the movie scene.
Warnings: None
Summary: Used as you are to participate in most of your husband's schemes, you gladly join him in the humble welcome phrank he has planned for the heralds of Agamemnon.
Tags: @yerevasunclair
It was a quiet moment, like a calm before the storm. The mycenaeans have arrived, surely to deliver demmands of their king regarding the war against the trojans that was about to be unleashed. Rumours kept your kingdom alert and your husband was already informed of their presence, but he decided he wasn't going to let then come down from their ships unbothered. Being tricked by the king was sometimes an informal part of hospitality on Ithaca and not everyone was a aware that his queen enjoyed phranks as much as him. Your minds worked as one and when it was about fooling people, you were able to play them like the sweet music on your lyre while waiting in the hills.
Odysseus brought his dog to play his own acting part as guardian of a few sheeps you had arround you. Disguised as you were, you appeared to be a happy couple of peasants enjoying of a rest from the day's work and that was exactly what the heralds of Agamemnon thought when they stumbled with you.
You stopped playing, allowing them to speak.
" … We heard King Odysseus is hidding in the hills. "
There was no story previously planned and part of the fun was participating of his improvisations, so you let your husband speak first.
" Odysseus? That old bastard drinks my wine and never pays. "
You laughed in a way that allowed them to interpret your amusement as agreement of his insults.
Both were disconcerted, but only one of the messengers awkwardly replied him.
" … You must respect your king, friend."
Odysseus faked indignation with great naturality.
" Respect him? I want to punch him in the face! Allways chazing my wife, trying to tear her clothes off. "
The mycenaeans were too weirded by the whole situation, but you understood it was your call to join the fun.
" He should listen to the complains of the people instead of staring at my breasts everytime he steps inside the tavern." You commented, with equal disdain. " That piece of shit has no respect for anyone … He may punish the carriers of messages if they give him bad news. "
" That, if they chatch him sober. " Odysseus recalled, going deeper into the details you introduced. " Everyone thinks he is some sort of mad genius, but that's because the foreigners meet him only when he isn't drunk off his ass. "
" Take off the genius and stay with the madness, Odysseus is a fraud! The reputation he has harvested is completely false. "
" He is an useless bureaoucrat! I doubt he really does Greece any favors. "
The heralds understood they weren't going to get any usefull information from the two subjects who despised their king, so they intended to leave.
As they did, Odysseus began to mock them.
" I hope Agamemnon's generals are smarter than his emisaries! "
They turned back inmediately, their cluelessness and shock becoming your delight as you started to finally release your first chuckles.
" Are you ???"
He smiled mischievously at them before delivering the confirmation.
" You want me to help you fight the trojans. "
They realized of their mistake and rushed to correct it bowing with great respect.
" Forgive us, King Odysseus. "
You noticed their tension and tried to help from that front.
" Don't worry, you never stood a chance. We are artists of deception. "
Odysseus remembered that proper presentations weren't made on your side and quickly corrected that.
" She is my wife and most trusted advisor. Whatever you want to discuss with me, you can say it in front of her."
You smiled pridefully as they followed the gesture they just had with him, honoring you equally as they should.
" And I guess you came to take him away from me sooner just because your king can't stand doing his own deals with Achilles. "
The situation had happened before, you were perfectly aware of how the mycenaean king handled his most strategical but broken political relationship.
" He asks about you everytime we meet, regardless of how most times i'm there to persuade him." Odysseus joked as a way to calm you. " And he will keep us all safer if he fights on our side. "
The heralds smiled awkwardly, considering their mission accomplished.
" They better bring you home as soon as they can before this will start, or I will do the travel to Phtia myself and drag Achilles by the earlobe like the damn child he is. "
" Lovely, isn't she? " He commented to the newcomers. " This woman is the love of my life. With such fierce queen i will not have to worry too much about the state of my kingdom."
95 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do a daemon cockwarming scene?
Love your books btw
Thank you so much anon! If you were talking about my books in my Aemond cockwarming fic I always love coming up with fun titles!
NSFW - 18+ (warning is in the ask)
A/N: Kepa means father and uncle so here it is used more like “Daddy” than indicating any familial connection unless that’s how you choose to read this pair.
my gif
The rain hammered against the window glass. It was a constant hum behind the click-click pause, click-click pause of Daemon’s pacing in your chambers. His boot heels on the floor were sharp and beginning to annoy you.
“My Prince?” you asked and caught him mid-stride, cutting a click short. You didn’t look up at him from your seat. You heard him grunt in acknowledgment. Mm.
“Are you well, My Prince?” Your hands stilled in your lap. You carefully tucked the needle into the cloth stretched on the hoop. You laid it gently on your lap and rested your hands on it. Then you looked up toward the windows where Daemon had been pacing.
“I feel fine,” he spat out the word but without directing it at you. “It’s being trapped in this cunting castle which isn’t fine. The storms are too great for flying.” He paused and turned to look at you. “The rain has trapped me here with you, my lady, yet you are quite content.” He took a few steps toward the sofa where you sat.
“I should leave you to your…” he glanced down at your hands.
“Oh, embroidery,” you replied with a small, proud smile on your face. “A present for the newborn of a Baratheon Lady at court.” You held up the completed portion of a stag’s head.
“Mm-hmm. Well I would leave you to it, only…. I have nothing to do. I have no obligations today and had hoped to fly Caraxes.” You watched him step to the end of the sofa and wilt into the seat. He slumped against the back, hair sprawling as much as his arms and legs. He groaned and sighed. You couldn’t take your eyes off his neck as he leaned his head back. His eyes had closed so you let yours linger over the curve of his throat and the ridge of it as he swallowed. You pressed your thighs together in a vain attempt to quell the heat that began to rise between them.
“Might I offer some suggestions?” you asked gently. You laid the needlework on the arm of the sofa and turned toward him, knees still pressed tightly together. He cracked his eyes open and looked at you without raising his head.
“We could visit the library. I would think there are many books there which might hold your attention,” you continued. He only grunted. “Or perhaps view the new tapestries.” This suggestion brought forth a small snort of laughter.
“Well, then, the stables or Dragonpit? You could occupy yourself with repairing your saddle; though you have people who could do that for you. It would be something…” your voice trailed off.
There was a drawn out moment of silence before he closed his eyes again. Then he sat up, legs still akimbo. He looked at you. His violet eyes glinting in the fire light. You felt yourself blush and found you had begun to fidget. You recognized that mischievous smirk.
Daemon often got this look on his face. It never failed to make you blush and squirm. It was inevitably followed by some unseemly desire he had. You were a lady after all, such things should make you blush. However, Daemon’s charm, arrogance, and handsomeness always, would always, break through the remaining vestiges of your concern for impropriety.
“Come here, mērītsos,” he leaned toward you, reaching for your waist. Little one. He knew exactly what the pet name did to you. You didn’t sigh loudly but enough that you knew he had seen your chest fall. His fingers slipped around your back and you let him guide you. You half-stood to shift next to him. When you did he moved swiftly and grabbed your hips with both hands. You yelped from the insinuation as much as the surprise. He sat you on his lap and you immediately squirmed to get comfortable, feeling as though you might surely fall off. You clutched at the arm of the sofa for balance.
“That won’t do,” he half-whispered behind you. “Here, let me help you, my lady.” With a motion that would have been awkward for a man without his strength he lifted your hips, placing you almost on his knees and slid himself into a more prone position. You felt his hands moving behind you.
“Daemon, what… what are you up to?” you asked with an amused tone. You enjoyed his surprises, so you didn’t turn around when you asked.
“Entertaining myself in this damnable weather.”
“I do hope you find it incredibly entertaining, as it seems that it might be an inconvenience for me.”
“Oh, of that I am sure, my lady,” his sly and suggestive words drawled out like honey. Before you could retort, his hands were on you again. He lifted your skirts and you felt your cunt become hot and lightning shot from your core to your hardening nipples. He had not yet touched your bare skin. You whined his name when his hand brushed the inside of your thigh. He chuckled softly behind you.
“Stand for me, mērītsos.” You did. He continued to slide his hand up your dress, finding your undergarments. His other hand rucked the rest of your skirts up to your hips as he moved to pull your smallclothes down. You stepped out of them and immediately he put both his hands on your hips.
He lifted you bodily back into his lap. Your bunched skirts between your hips and his stomach made it impossible for you to lean back. However, they did not obstruct his hard cock pressed against your ass. You groaned. He laughed.
“My entertainment,” he replied.
He moved his hips slightly, distributing your weight. Your mind was nearly blank from your desire. You would let him do whatever he wished. You hoped the rain might never stop. The anticipation of what lay ahead increased your wetness and you briefly thought of the slickness against the leather of his pants. Before that thought was fully formed, Daemon slid his hand around between your thighs and stroked his fingers up your slit, expertly missing your now-throbbing clit. You whined again.
“So very wet for me, mērītsos. Yet you don’t know how I plan to keep myself entertained…” he trailed off. He leaned forward and grazed his open mouth against the sensitive skin at the slope of your neck and shoulder. You tried not to arch your back as his teeth played at biting you. He felt your wetness one more time then abruptly pulled his hand away.
“Retrieve your… what you were working on, needlepoint?” He didn’t explain but you knew to lean and grab it from the arm of the sofa. When you straightened up he sat forward enough to hover his lips near your ear. He kissed the lobe softly.
“Now, you’re going to sit here and continue your work and I’m going to watch you or… not. But you aren’t to move. You’re going to keep my cock warm in my tight, wet cunt.” He drew out the words in a way that made you shiver.
Before you could do anything but nod he gently lifted your hips and guided you to hover a moment while he reached between you. He slid his cock through your dripping folds; then, unceremoniously, he slid into you. He pulled you back down onto his lap. He was fully inside you with one stroke. The guttural noise you made almost embarrassed you. You started to roll your hips but he caught you after the first movement.
“No.” His voice was stern but gentle. “You will not move.” He leaned back and his cock twitched inside you. Your muscles were clenching around him nearly involuntarily, seeking that which you would not get. You inhaled shakily and steadied yourself with your thighs on his. As you pulled the needle from the fabric, your shoulders relaxed. You could not relax entirely, but you could focus. Behind you, Daemon shifted, reclining a bit. One hand left your hip to begin stroking your back. His fingers brushed against the naked skin at the nape of your neck and down over the lacing of your bodice. He sighed.
“Such lovely entertainment for kepa.” You thought you sensed a grin accompany this compliment. You couldn’t stifle a small whine through your gritted teeth.
Obediently, you began your embroidery work on the stag, your cunt filled full by Daemon, the rain, thankfully, coming down in harder sheets on the windows.
Main masterlist
Daemon masterlist
#thank you so much this got me through my writer’s block!#fic request#smut#daemon smut#daemon x fem!reader#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen#hotd fanfic#hotd#house of the dragon#x reader#hotd smut#matt smith
523 notes
·
View notes
Text
it's always been you pt3 (pt1, pt2)
AN: Ty to anyone who read this and liked it and has stuck with the series so far. this is the final part, and it was so fun to write. It's important to note that I just made up for the purpose of the story that the Rosiers are blood traitors, so just pretend with me. again, ty soooooo much if you've stuck with the series this far, and I hope you enjoy the final installment.
“You can either stop moping,” Sirius said, slamming his fork on the table, “or tell us all what has had your knickers in a twist for this whole day.”
James Potter’s best friend was trying his best to catch his eye, but he didn’t dare meet the very eyes he’d been struggling to push out of his mind since last night. “Seriously, Prongs. You just turned seventeen! What is there to be upset about?” Sirius looked at Remus and Peter for support, both of which were studying their plates like they had never seen food before. “Lay off, Pads,”James replied lazily, reluctantly glancing up at Sirius, “Hangover.” Sirius obviously wasn’t fooled, but since he was dealing with a hefty hangover himself, he let it go. The Marauders ate in silence. James always hated silence because it gave him time to be subjected to the torture that was his thoughts. He was about to begin rambling off about ideas for pranks when a commotion down by the Slytherin table thankfully stopped him.
Regulus Black was eating his dinner quietly when his best friend stormed up to him. It was unusual for Pandora to be frowning, let alone this fired up. “A blood traitor! That’s what you think we are, Regulus?” She yelled, her brother, Evan, glaring closely behind her. Regulus remained puzzled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Panda.” Evan scoffed. “Well certainly if James Potter is a blood traitor, then that makes us one too. Did you think no one heard what you said? A slur? In the corridor? A slur that you know has been aimed towards us countless of times.” Evan said, pointing accusingly as Regulus paled. “Guys, you know I didn’t mean it like that-” Pandora put her hand up. “You know what,” Pandora said, “you can save it. Just know that this is the last time I ever call you my friend.” And with that, Pandora Rosier picked up Regulus’s pumpkin juice and dumped it over his head.
James couldn’t catch all of the conversation, but he could make out why Pandora and Evan Rosier were so upset. If it were any other person, James would have forgotten the exchange by now. People have called him that and way worse too many instances to name. But something about when it comes from Regulus Black's mouth inflicts more pain than it would coming from any other person in Hogwarts. James should feel smug right now, looking at Regulus with pumpkin juice dripping down his face. Merlin, his face. Regulus’s jaw flexed, and James’s heart rate spiked. “And what on earth are you looking at?” Regulus snapped at a first year Slytherin who had been gawking at him. The girl looked away quickly, her face turning a bright shade of red before Regulus stood up and left the Great Hall.
As he was watching Regulus’s back as he stalked away, James was reminded that he wasn’t the only one that had witnessed the scene unfold. Remus cleared his throat. “What do you suppose that was all about?” he said. Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t know, and most certainly don’t care.” James’s temper flared immediately. He knew Sirius Black better than anyone in the world, so he knew that Sirius cared about his brother. Sirius cared more than anyone in this room, in fact. “C’mon, Padfoot,” James said, “ease up. Maybe now’s the time you finally mend things.” James met eyes with Remus, who was shaking his head violently. He could practically hear his voice in his head saying, James, no. Stop right now you thick-headed nimwit. “No, Moony. I’d like to hear James elaborate on that.” Sirius narrowed his eyes and spoke through his teeth, having noticed the interaction. James cleared his throat. “Well, Regulus is clearly dealing with a lot right now. I mean, aren’t him and the Rosiers good mates ‘n that? And they basically just humiliated him in front of the entire school, so that’s gotta be rough-” Sirius continued to glare at him. “And your point is?” he interjected, “You know what, It doesn’t matter what you’re getting at. I. Don’t. Care. And why should you? You don’t know him, and you certainly have no right to tell me what to do when it comes to my own brother.” Sirius pushed himself up from the table angrily.
As Sirius stomped out of the Great Hall, Remus scowled at James. “Seriously, you know that’s a touchy subject for him.” James rolled his eyes. “Oh come on,” he said, exasperated, “you know that I’m right.” Remus sighed. “He just needs time, Prongs.” James grit his teeth. It’s odd, feeling this sort of defensiveness for someone he barely knows. And it’s very odd the feeling he gets when he looks at him. But for now, he will continue to ignore his thoughts and search for a distraction. So, later in the evening when all students are supposed to report to their dorms before bed, James Potter sneaks out to the Astronomy Tower.
Regulus sat by the balcony of the Astronomy Tower. Evan had refused to let him into their dorm, so he had no choice to just wait out the night here. Regulus had become overwhelmed with boredom, so much so he had begun counting the stars in the sky. He was on star 134 when he stood up hastily at the sudden sound of footsteps. His head swiveled around, looking for somewhere to hide, but there were no options. Regulus had barely begun to formulate his plan when James fucking Potter strutted into the Astronomy Tower. His ridiculously handsome face morphed into a look of shock when he saw Regulus standing there. “Hello, Regulus,” he greeted cautiously. Regulus hated the way his entire body reacted when James fucking Potter said his name, but his insides felt tingly all the same.
Regulus sneered at James. “Potter. What troubles you enough to be here? Don’t you and your little friends have, what do you call them, ‘pranks’ to be getting up to?” he said, in a falsely polite tone. “Not at all, actually,” James replied smoothly. He saw no point in returning Regulus’s attitude, however irking it may be, “Sirius and I just got into a fight. I just came here to clear my head, is all.” Regulus scoffed. “Why of course. What was the fight over, may I ask? Perhaps who has the biggest ego? Or who had lowest marks on the last few O.W.L.s?” James narrowed his eyes. “Now just what is that supposed to mean?” he ground out through gritted teeth. Regulus chucked meanly, no humor behind the sound whatsoever. “Oh, nothing. Just that I think you are a big-headed, idiotic narcissist who has had to work for nothing in your entire life; everything you ever want being handed to you on a silver platter.” James clenched his fist. “Now just why do you think you have any right to be talking like you know anything about me? Because the truth is you don't! How come you even hate me so much?”
"Because it’s always been you!” Regulus shouted having finally snapped, “You've been picked over me time and time again by the only person in this world I ever loved! My own brother abandoned me for you. Why? Why am I not good enough? I wanted someone to be there for me, and I could have been the person there for him. But he found that in you instead, and I had no one. I have no one. No one to go cry to after dad beat me. No one to comfort me after I had been crucioed by my own mother. No one. Coming to hogwarts I thought things would be different, but of course its still fucking you! You get to be the person that he laughs with. You get to be the person that he goes to. And he gets to be that for you. He should be that for me, but its always always always” Regulus let out a ragged breath, ”been you.’’
James looked down at Regulus, horrified. “Regulus,” he breathed, walking to stand next to him. Both of Regulus’s hands were gripping the balcony, his knuckles white. James placed his warm hand on top of his. Regulus’s heart rate sped up in a way that it shouldn’t. His body’s reaction to James’s touch spread all the way from the tips of where their fingers met, to a deep pit in his stomach. Regulus still refused to meet the boy’s stare, despite knowing that he was looking at him. If he gazed into those brown eyes, Regulus might just collapse on the spot. “I could spend all day telling you how sorry I am that you feel that way,” James began, his voice a son whisper, “but instead just please tell me how I can fix it.” Regulus said nothing. James sighed. He slowly reached out to Regulus’s face. James put his hand under his chin and tilted his head so Regulus’s striking gray eyes were finally forced to meet his.
“Please, Regulus,” James pleaded, hand still on his chin, “I don’t want you to ever have to feel like that again. I want so desperately to be there for you. How can I be there for you? Tell me please. Anything you say I’ll do. Anything you desire, I’ll make sure becomes yours. I am yours to use at you will. Just please let me in.” Regulus looked up at James with wide eyes, searching his expression for any sign of insincerity. When he found nothing, Regulus leaned in without thinking. It was as if they were both magnets, the Regulus had finally succumbed to the pull that had been tugging at them both their whole lives.
Void of any rational thoughts, his lips brushed James’s in a question, one that James answered by placing his mouth on Regulus’s. Heat bloomed in Regulus’s chest as he took in the kiss, lips parting. James’s lips were warm and soft, the taste of honey and strawberries from dessert still on his tongue. As Regulus combed his fingers through James’s thick, brown locks, James evoked a low and throaty sound; one that Regulus could feel rumble all the way through his body, down to the tips of his toes. James’s large hands had found his waist as he deepened the kiss. The moment was electrifying and beautiful and perfect, up until the moment where they finally broke apart, breathing heavily.
Regulus looked up at James before stepping out of his grip. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll uh, see you around, Potter.” James reached up to right his glasses nervously. “Yeah I-uh, see you, Regulus.” Regulus Black pressed his lips in a thin line, nodding once, before turning and walking out of the Astronomy Tower, leaving James Potter to question what in the bloody hell had just happened.
Ahhhh ty again if you read all the way through this CRINGE. @ketevanii, @ambrosia-v-black, @simp-for-fiction, @dazzling-witch, ty guys all sm for showing love, hopefully I did you justice ad you liked the last part <3
#marauders#marauders era#james potter#regulus black#the marauders#james x regulus#hp marauders#james loves regulus#regulus arcturus black#harry potter marauders#sirius being sirius#remus loves sirius#remus x sirius#sirius#sirius and regulus#sirius black#sirius loves remus#sirius and remus#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#regulus#regulus and evan and barty#regulus black x james potter#regulus deserved better#regulus x james#james fleamont potter#harry james potter#jegulus#marauders fic#my fic
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anti’s coming into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and accusing Gwynriel’s of the mischaracterization of Gwyn or only liking Gwyn because of Gwynriel is fucking LAUGHABLE.
All I've seen are posts singing praises about Gwyn (just Gwyn!) and I have NOT ONCE seen a Gwynriel shipper characterize Gwyn wrongly.
What are we mischaracterizing her for?
Being brave as fuck for choosing to train to be a Valkyrie? Nesta’s admiration and fondness of her? For saying she’s resilient for being able to enjoy herself and laugh with her friends after experiencing some fucked up shit? THAT SHE'S LIKABLE?? Being strategic and patient FOR DAYS and spying on the Illaryian males before sending the beasts after them ruthlessly? Being smart and witty? Her interests in sex and smut and stating she doesn’t want to be coddled? Her willingness to sacrifice herself on the bridge? Her determination to finish the blood rite even though she was injured as fuck? Her unwavering loyalty toward Nesta and Emerie? That Nesta thinks her beauty is comparable to Mor and Merrill?
The fact that she’s not judgemental and she immediately accepted Nesta when they were sharing their stories? Her own struggle with guilt and self hate? Her immediately witnessing what Azriel is capable of when they first met? Azriel’s shadows reacting POSITIVELY towards her and yeah, the thought of her joy glowing in his chest? That she teases him and challenges him? That she hasn't seen him torture someone yet but she's seen worse shit soooo why would she be fazed??
She's canonly more suitable for Azriel than anybody else in the series and THAT'S why people dislike her as a character even though on her own she's a great character.
Those are only SOME of her positives we got in ONE book. Notice, some of those positives include Azriel, but most don’t 🤷🏻♀️.
Allllllll of those points have textual evidence to support them. And these are allllllll the points Gwynriel shippers love to make about her.
The only charactization of her anti’s will accept is if she goes back to the library, stays there and is never seen or heard of in canon again. Or if she’s evil which she’s likely not going to be. Stop being so petty. If anything SJM has her set up for a HEALING journey.
However some people obviously like to see a female character STAY broken and let her trauma define her.
Getting mad when she's so obviously such a fun character? She has fun and laughs and teases her friends and Cassian and Azriel and enjoys herself but there's something wrong with that and you think its annoying????
Fanon Gwyn and Canon Gwyn are basically the same. If you don’t like fanon Gwyn, you probably don’t like canon Gwyn and that’s fine, whatever, I think you have totally shit taste but whatever just STAY OUT OF THE GWYNETH BERDARA TAG.
I see the shit ya'll tag and then delete.
I’m a Gwyn stan first and foremost but I have not seen one single other Gwynriel shipper mischaracterize her.
Fanon is fun until it melts your brain and you start believing ONLY fanon and wrongly remembering canon and then attacking others for using canon to support their points.
It’s crazy to me that anti’s can dislike a fictional character so much that the idea of potentially seeing more of said character in the canon universe and getting more fandom love honestly upsets them.
Like holy shit, I don’t like E/riel, but I have enough tact not to take that out on either Elain OR Azriel. And I don’t go looking to start shit with shippers because I'm not pathetic. Too bad some people can’t extend that same class to Gwyn.
Also, I feel like some people forget about this fucking scene.
Gwyn studied Ramiel's craggy, unforgiving slope. Not much snow graced its sides. Like the wind had whipped it all away. Or the storms had avoided its peak entirely. “Is it living, though? To take the safe road?”
“You’re the one who's been living in a library for two years,” Emerie said.
Gwyn didn't flinch. “I have. And I am tired of it.” She surveyed the blood-soaked leather along her thigh. “I don't want to take the safe road.” She pointed to the mountain, to the slender path upward. “I want to take that road.” Her voice thickened. “I want to take the road that no one dares travel, and I want to travel it with you two. No matter what may befall us. Not as Illyrians, not for their titles, but as something new. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and restrictions.”
A cold wind blew off Ramiel's sides.
Whispering, murmuring.
“They call this climb the Breaking for a reason,”Emerie countered gravely.
Nesta added, “Wehaven't eaten in days. We're down to the last of our water. To climb that mountain-“
“I have been broken once before,” Gwyn said, her voice clear. “I survived it. And I will not be broken again- not even by this mountain.”
Look at me and tell me this is a character we’ll never hear from again. Go right a fucking head.
You can't come into the Gwyneth Berdara tag claiming we mischaracterize her. We take her as is. No need to pick her apart or give her little unnecessary traits to fit her better with any one.
It's not possible to make her out to be something she's not when every little thing we love about her is canon.
You can be salty over us comparing Bryce/Hunt and Azriel/Gwyn but oh wait! SJM uses similar language to describe them ON PURPOSE in canon as fucking well!!!
On purpose.
In fucking canon.
But we’re reaching.
Do not come into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and say Gwynriel’s make it hard to like her but oh, you do like her you do! And then go on to say she’s nothing more special than a Valkyrie or Nesta’s friend. Yeah, I fucking saw that shit.
People are weirdly jealous over a ship/inspiring character a lot of people relate to.
Gwyn is not stealing Azriel from any one because there’s NO ONE to steal him from.
These character's are fake but the hate and vitriol ya'll are spewing at people who like her are very real.
Just stay out of the Gwyneth Berdara tag if you don't like her.
#gwyneth berdara#gwyn berdara#gwynriel#pro gwynriel#azriel x gwyn#gwyn x azriel#pro gwyneth berdara#acotar#acosf#I probably have more to add but I'm blanking#Oh its a long boy#but coming into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and being a dumb bitch is a choice#also this is probably a mess but oh well
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you so much for the lovely response to the interlude and storming of the palace chapters! Here are some research photos for you from my trip(s) to Versailles!
Let's look at Versailles first.
This is the outside of the Palace (Versailles). This place is important for the coming chapters.
Chapelle Royale - The chapel where David's investiture happened.
The Apollo Room - The King's room - Albert's room. Hope one of those big paintings fall on his head and he dies :)
One of the many chambers of the royals - I pictured David's room (in Versailles) to look like this. (It's ugly ngl)
The Gallery of Great Battles. This is the biggest room in Versailles (and also my favourite room). It depicts nearly 15 centuries of French military successes, from Clovis to Napoleon, through 30 or so gigantic paintings. One of my favourite scenes happens here. I think you will like it too.
Hall of Mirrors - where cakegate happened and everything began.
The Grand Canal of Versailles - the one Max swam through to get into the Palace unnoticed. Fun fact: I sat by this canal and wrote some of the scenes. It's so long btw. Only Max could swim this in a single stretch.
Now. Moving into the Trianon Estate and David's current place of living.
I genuinely thought Petit Trianon was so much more beautiful than the Palace of Versailles and immediately decided David would live there instead of the Palace.
The green bench where we see David sit and read fanfiction.
The private chapel within the chateau that he visits in the morning (sometimes with Jackson).
The portrait of Marie Antoinette Max touches.
The forget-me -nots ceramics we see David using because he is a drama queen.
The iconic fireplace in front of which they have their fight ahhhh.
The room where David eats/has breakfast with Jackson/Max.
David's (Barbie) bedroom. They smashed on that bed hehe. It looks red, now, but with the right lighting, this place looks pink. Arthur would love it here.
This room, which is called the 'war room' is Jackson's office now. You can see his 'strategy' table. I love how it kinda resembles King Arthur's roundtable with the knights.
Jackson's cottage/home in Queen's Hamlet. The biggest one there.
Martin's cottage/home in Queen's Hamlet.
Some of the places Mavid goes through during their walk in Queen's Hamlet in the latest chapter:
And finally, The Temple of Love (Le Temple de l'Amour) - which is David's favourite place in Versailles and the place where Max gives him the necklace again (they got married in a temple bye)
End of tour.
This is genuinely one of my favourite places in the world and I am so grateful that I got the opportunity to visit it - and then write about it too. I sat in the temple and wrote some of the scenes from David's interlude while listening to some of David's favourite songs - including My Tears Richochet. If you ever find yourself in Paris/Versailles, I'd definitely recommend visiting the Trianon Estate.
24 notes
·
View notes