#it makes us feel powerless and frustrated
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mommyownsmee · 2 days ago
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hi mommy,
Please tie me up & make me even needier before using me as you please
I love watching you squirm, knowing you’re completely helpless, knowing I can take my time, tease you, push you further and further into that aching, mindless state where you exist for nothing but my pleasure.
I’d have you on your knees, wrists bound behind your back, looking up at me with those needy, pleading eyes. I know exactly what you want—your mouth open, tongue out, aching to worship me, to prove yourself. I’d stand over you, my strap right in front of your face, so close but completely out of reach.
I’d drag it across your lips, watch you tremble as I’d whisper how pathetic you look—so desperate to suck, so desperate to please, but I‘d take my time, pressing it just enough to make you feel how heavy it is against your tongue, just enough to make you whimper.
But you know better than to think I’d just give you what you want. I‘d tilt your chin up with the tip of my strap, making you hold my gaze as I smirk down at you. "Look at you," I’d murmur, my voice dripping with amusement. "So desperate, so eager… yet completely powerless to take what you want."
Then, without warning, I’d grip the back of your head and pull you in, letting you just barely take the tip between your lips before I’d yank you back again, chuckling as I’d watch the frustration flood your pretty, desperate face. "Oh? Did you think I’d let you have it that easily? How cute." I’d drag the strap down your throat again, making you taste it, teasing you with the thought of being used.
"Beg for it." My voice would be low, commanding. "Tell me how much you need it. How much you’ll do anything to please me." I’d wait, smirking, as you whimper, your words tumbling out in desperate, breathless pleas. But I’d just shake my head, tilting my head in mock sympathy. "Not good enough."
I’d push the strap against your lips again, watching you struggle to take what you aren’t allowed to have. Watching the frustration, the need, the raw hunger in your eyes. I‘d laugh, gripping your jaw and tilting your head back.
"You think I’m just going to let you suck my strap like some greedy little thing? No, sweetheart. You’ll work for it. You’ll earn every single inch. And only when I’m satisfied… only when I think you deserve it… will I let you take all of me down that needy little throat of yours."
I’d press the strap against your lips one more time, watching you tremble. Then I’d lean in close, my breath warm against your ear as I’d whisper—
"Now, be a good toy and beg."
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aardappel-van-mijn-oog · 6 months ago
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Kamala is doing everything she can lads.
Try and grasp the situation here: she is the presumptive nominee of a party that is comprised of both staunch Israëli opponents and hard line Israëli supporters. She also is going up against a party of exclusively the latter, and wants to try and convince as many people deciding between the Democrats and Republicans to vote for her in November. She cannot afford to lose because if she does, America will turn into a fascist theocracy for the foreseeable future, and then we will all be fucked because America is the most influential country upon global politics.
So Kamala Harris CANNOT AFFORD to say any more than she is saying about the war in Palestine right now, because if she does, she risks losing the support of a large and potentially election-deciding group of swing voters.
I am a supporter of a free and prosperous Palestine. I believe that Israël has no right to exist as a country, and that it is an apartheid state. But I also have some amount of common sense, and I see that there has to be a compromise here. As, it seems, does Kamala Harris. Watch the video above to see what I mean.
I am not a resident of the United States. I live in the Netherlands, where in the last election, the party with the most votes was the party who wants to ban the Qur’ān and close all mosques, advocates for increased and more violent policing, wants to retract the official apologies made for the Netherlands’ involvement in the Slave Trade, and ban puberty blockers. That’s not because most people want to do those things. It’s because people didn’t fucking vote. Well there are more reasons than that but that’s one of the main ones.
So, Americans. From your friends over in Europe. We like you. We don’t want you to live under a fascist theocracy. However, we don’t have the power to stop that. Only you do, and you can do it by putting aside your grievances and seeing the big picture here. In other words,
VOTE FOR KAMALA HARRIS.
I’m not gonna go into all the rest of her policies, but coming from a gay genderqueer socialist I think she’s pretty solid. Obviously she and I don’t agree on everything, but that’s because we’re unique individuals with different personalities, upbringings and backgrounds. Yknow, like how normal society is? I’ve been hearing so much discourse on this kut website and most of it boils down to “she’s not a carbon copy of me so I won’t vote for her”.
Guys, what the fuck happened to the tolerant left? What happened to the people who welcomed different ideas and beliefs? Are they in the room with us now??? Grow up. Go to your silly little American voting website and register to vote. I don’t know which website it is but someone can link it in a reblog or something idk.
And for my European friends. I know we all dislike how much influence American politics has on our lives. I fucking hate it. But we live in a globalised world, for better or worse, so try as best you can to make as many Americans that you know and love vote for Kamala Harris - or whoever it ends up being - come November. That’s the most we can do to ensure the right wing parties of our own countries don’t see Trump and follow in their footsteps. It’s happening in the Netherlands and we are already seeing the consequences over here. I’d talk about them but this post is too long.
TLDR: OI AMERICANS, VOTE BLUE
(pwease :3)
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illycanary · 11 months ago
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Katara's Story Is A Tragedy and It's Not An Accident
I was a teenaged girl when Avatar: The Last Airbender aired on Nickelodeon—the group that the show’s creators unintentionally hit while they were aiming for the younger, maler demographic. Nevermind that we’re the reason the show’s popularity caught fire and has endured for two decades; we weren’t the audience Mike and Bryan wanted. And by golly, were they going to make sure we knew it. They’ve been making sure we know it with every snide comment and addendum they’ve made to the story for the last twenty years.
For many of us girls who were raised in the nineties and aughts, Katara was a breath of fresh air—a rare opportunity in a media market saturated with boys having grand adventures to see a young woman having her own adventure and expressing the same fears and frustrations we were often made to feel. 
We were told that we could be anything we wanted to be. That we were strong and smart and brimming with potential. That we were just as capable as the boys. That we were our brothers’ equals. But we were also told to wash dishes and fold laundry and tidy around the house while our brothers played outside. We were ignored when our male classmates picked teams for kickball and told to go play with the girls on the swings—the same girls we were taught to deride if we wanted to be taken seriously. We were lectured for the same immaturity that was expected of boys our age and older, and we were told to do better while also being told, “Boys will be boys.” Despite all the platitudes about equality and power, we saw our mothers straining under the weight of carrying both full-time careers and unequally divided family responsibilities. We sensed that we were being groomed for the same future. 
And we saw ourselves in Katara. 
Katara begins as a parentified teenaged girl: forced to take on responsibility for the daily care of people around her—including male figures who are capable of looking after themselves but are allowed to be immature enough to foist such labor onto her. She does thankless work for people who take her contributions for granted. She’s belittled by people who love her, but don’t understand her. She’s isolated from the world and denied opportunities to improve her talents. She's told what emotions she's allowed to feel and when to feel them. In essence, she was living our real-world fear: being trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood. 
Then we watched Katara go through an incredible journey of self-determination and empowerment. Katara goes from being a powerless, fearful victim to being a protector, healer, advocate, and liberator to others who can’t do those things for themselves (a much truer and more fulfilling definition of nurturing and motherhood). It’s necessary in Katara’s growth cycle that she does this for others first because that is the realm she knows. She is given increasingly significant opportunities to speak up and fight on behalf of others, and that allows her to build those advocacy muscles gradually. But she still holds back her own emotional pain because everyone that she attempts to express such things to proves they either don't want to deal with it or they only want to manipulate her feelings for their own purposes. 
Katara continues to do much of the work we think of as traditionally maternal on behalf of her friends and family over the course of the story, but we do see that scale gradually shift. Sokka takes on more responsibility for managing the group’s supplies, and everyone helps around camp, but Katara continues to be the manager of everyone else’s emotions while simultaneously punching down her own. The scales finally seem to tip when Zuko joins the group. With Zuko, we see someone working alongside Katara doing the same tasks she is doing around camp for the first time. Zuko is also the only person who never expects anything of her and whose emotions she never has to manage because he’s actually more emotionally stable and mature than she is by that point. And then, Katara’s arc culminates in her finally getting the chance to fully seize her power, rewrite the story of the traumatic event that cast her into the role of parentified child, be her own protector, and freely express everything she’s kept locked away for the sake of letting everyone else feel comfortable around her. Then she fights alongside an equal partner she knows she can trust and depend on through the story's climax. And for the first time since her mother’s death, the girl who gives and gives and gives while getting nothing back watches someone sacrifice everything for her. But this time, she’s able to change the ending because her power is fully realized. The cycle was officially broken.
Katara’s character arc was catharsis at every step. If Katara could break the mold and recreate the ideas of womanhood and motherhood in her own image, so could we. We could be powerful. We could care for ourselves AND others when they need us—instead of caring for everyone all the time at our own expense. We could have balanced partnerships with give and take going both ways (“Tui and La, push and pull”), rather than the, “I give, they take,” model we were conditioned to expect. We could fight for and determine our own destiny—after all, wasn’t destiny a core theme of the story?
Yes. Destiny was the theme. But the lesson was that Katara didn’t get to determine hers. 
After Katara achieves her victory and completes her arc, the narrative steps in and smacks her back down to where she started. For reasons that are never explained or justified, Katara rewards the hero by giving into his romantic advances even though he has invalidated her emotions, violated her boundaries, lashed out at her for slights against him she never committed, idealized a false idol of her then browbeat her when she deviated from his narrative, and forced her to carry his emotions and put herself in danger when he willingly fails to control himself—even though he never apologizes, never learns his lesson, and never shows any inclination to do better. 
And do better he does not.
The more we dared to voice our own opinions on a character that was clearly meant to represent us, the more Mike and Bryan punished Katara for it.
Throughout the comics, Katara makes herself smaller and smaller and forfeits all rights to personal actualization and satisfaction in her relationship. She punches her feelings down when her partner neglects her and cries alone as he shows more affection and concern for literally every other girl’s feelings than hers. She becomes cowed by his outbursts and threats of violence. Instead of rising with the moon or resting in the warmth of the sun, she learns to stay in his shadow. She gives up her silly childish dreams of rebuilding her own dying culture’s traditions and advocating for other oppressed groups so that she can fulfill his wishes to rebuild his culture instead—by being his babymaker. Katara gave up everything she cared about and everything she fought to become for the whims of a man-child who never saw her as a person, only a possession.
Then, in her old age, we get to watch the fallout of his neglect—both toward her and her children who did not meet his expectations. By that point, the girl who would never turn her back on anyone who needed her was too far gone to even advocate for her own children in her own home. And even after he’s gone, Katara never dares to define herself again. She remains, for the next twenty-plus years of her life, nothing more than her husband's grieving widow. She was never recognized for her accomplishments, the battles she won, or the people she liberated. Even her own children and grandchildren have all but forgotten her. She ends her story exactly where it began: trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood.
The story’s theme was destiny, remember? But this story’s target audience was little boys. Zuko gets to determine his own destiny as long as he works hard and earns it. Aang gets his destiny no matter what he does or doesn’t do to earn it. And Katara cannot change the destiny she was assigned by gender at birth, no matter how hard she fights for it or how many times over she earns it. 
Katara is Winston Smith, and the year is 1984. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight or what you accomplish, little girl. Big Brother is too big, too strong, and too powerful. You will never escape. You will never be free. Your victories are meaningless. So stay in your place, do what you’re told, and cry quietly so your tears don’t bother people who matter.
I will never get over it. Because I am Katara. And so are my friends, sisters, daughters, and nieces. But I am not content to live in Bryke's world.
I will never turn my back on people who need me. Including me.
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just-some-user-hunny · 6 months ago
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Platonic yandere Rhaenyra as your mother...
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~ The moment she laid eyes upon you, she helplessly fell in love. All the anger and shock towards Daemon took a backseat to her emotions the moment she saw you- her breath stuttering in her throat as her own amethyst eyes settled upon the wailing girl in the mad prince's arms. No woman is keen upon the idea of their other half returning with a child that they've had behind their back, but the sight of a girl- a daughter, for her, settled her decision at once. It's unlikely for her to take out her frustrations out on you, and something about your tearful little face and upset cries for your mother made her want to take you into her arms at once to soothe you. She didn't care at all about you being a bastard, all she could see was a daughter. Hers.
~ Rhaenyra would spoil you. Gifting you dresses and jewellery and books and fine silk threads, and always wearing an adoring twinkle in her eyes whenever she sees you. Rhaenyra herself loves her precious gems and fine luxurious dresses, and now with her own little girl, you bet you're getting spoiled. She'd also love seeing her dear boys get along with you, further fueling her delusions that you're her own child. She'll call her 'my dearest love' and 'sweet girl' , a cautious protective arm always within reaching distance of you if things get heated at the dining table during rowdy family dinners.
~ she's often the one to smoothe your anger and sadness over when it comes to your conflict with Daemon, your father. He is always the one to dish out punishments and restrictions, and in his stead, she'll be the one to lather you with comfort and alternatives. As a child she'd carry you in her arms, wiping away your tearfulness and promising you a ride with Syrax after Daemon forbids you from riding your own dragon for a week. That dynamic fits well with them. Essentially, Daemon is The bad cop, and she is the good cop.
~ as a child, you were very against this woman mothering you when you missed your one mother at home. However you may eventually grow soft to Rhaenyra, even if it's unintentionally done. She's so attentive and gentle towards you, it's hard not to seek out her comfort- even if most of it is dismissive and performative to keep you calm. She'd happily braid your hair if you wish to go riding upon horse or dragon-back, and always with a smile upon her face.
~ Rhaenyra soothing you whenever you fights with her father, Daemon. She is firm, but gentle, the perfect salve to Daemons cruelty and coldness. He has always stood strong and confident, and the powerlessness you'd feel around him would both infuriate you, and make you feel hopeless. Rhaenyra is always there for the aftermath, to distract you from the sadness brewing in your chest. Squeezing your hand beneath the table as you all eat your meals together, your presence always insisted upon by Viserys and Daemon.
~ she'd be a fiercely protective mother. As you grow older, transitioning from her little girl to a young woman, she'd be very against any arranged marriages. If she could, she'd keep you at home forever, single and happy- or free to love whoever you like as long as they are approved by her and Daemon and that you remain at home with them.
Thankfully, due to your bastard heritage, you have no political duty to marry, and are therefore free from being wed for gain. (Sure, you'll never seat the iron throne, but as a woman in those times everything was cut-throat. You may as well have a taste of freedom)
~ Syrax is just as doting. You're her riders little girl, and that maternal feeling would come through both Rhaenary, and syrax. The large golden dragon will chirp and purr in your presence, bowing her head to sniff and gently prod at you- like a doting mother.
"Darling, are you joining us for lunch?"
"For the afternoon".
Rhae smiled warmly, watching you pet Syrax- who gazed upon the princess with passive golden eyes. Crooning gently into your touch, before retreating softly. Rhaenyra approaches soon after- peeling her riding gloves off before taking your face within the cradle of your palms and kissing your brow. 1...2...3, a mantra of soft kisses laid upon your face before she steps back to look at you. Her smile is genuine and warm.
~ As the dance of the dragon approaches, the more protective and demanding she becomes. Suddenly your dragon riding time is limited, especially after Luke's death :( the moment you even suggested leaving upon dragon-back to get some fresh air in the clouds she snaps almost tearfully, composing herself shortly afterwards, and then sending you outside upon the balcony with a guard. A pleading look in her eyes begging you not to disobey her, for her sake, please. She cannot lose you as well.
~ She becomes especially paranoid about team green snatching you away, as both teams are obsessed with keeping you on their sides amidst the approach of war. The amount of kingsguard that stand position outside your chambers every night, hell, even accompanying you around the castle increases. You seldom have a moment to yourself without a lady in waiting heel-to-heel with you, or a towering armoured knight breathing down your neck.
Even with Daemon gone, you're still trapped within the castle.
~ Bastard!princess reader wants nothing to do with this war, and although she may have created a connection to Rhaenyra and Jace and her twin sisters, she may see this as an opportunity to finally leave. Escape would be difficult, near impossible, but not out of the question. You still have your dragon at your call, so you may find a way to slip away and find a way to get to your dragon to escape.
Everyone would go mad however, almost putting a pause on the conflict to go out and find you. Be warned that Daemon and Rhaenyra would immediately go seek your hometown and mother and brothers (that is, if they are still alive), so you'd have to be smart with slipping from their grasps.
~ To the end Rhaenyra will hold onto you dearly like her life-line, committed to being your mother, regardless of your feelings or circumstance. Even as she is burnt, she will not cry or scream- only thinking of everything that she has lost. How she failed you, and everyone she ever held close.
(under the scenario that in the end you did leave and vanish, or worse, got killed in the conflict).
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daemonsversion · 1 year ago
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Hightower Girl | Daemon x Reader
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Female (Hightower) Reader
Summary: Sometimes it seems like Daemon has made it his life's mission to annoy you as much as possible. However, when he learns that your father has practically arranged a marriage for you, a long hidden desire comes raging to the surface.
Content etc: profanity, slight masturbation but not really, smut (fingering, loss of virginity) I never know what to put here tbh. Sorry for any mistakes, I only read back through it once or so.
Word count: 6,935 (my first fic on this page was NOT meant to be this long help)
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The air held a chill as you turned your gaze up to the sky. You were standing at one of the large windows, looking out over the courtyard as the morning light continued to grow. It was beautiful to look at, yet the chill felt similar to the one that ran through your heart.
With a sigh, you turned away and retreated down the corridor. Last night your father, Otto Hightower, had told you of his plans to marry you off to one of the lords on the small council. You would, quite frankly, rather eat your own head but when you tried to protest all he'd done was get upset with you and tell you it was long overdue that you wed.
So you had been in a downward spiral ever since, trying to decide what - if anything - you could do to get out of it. It was a feeling of powerlessness that had you in its grip as you lamented that there might actually be nothing that you could do about it. Unfortunately, in many ways, you were seen as your father's property. To effectively sell off as he saw fit.
You didn't see him at first. Your eyes were fixed firmly ahead as you walked but they were not really working as they should. You had tunnel vision, moving mainly on autopilot. It wasn't until you'd walked right into Prince Daemon and trodden on his foot that you realised he was anywhere in the vicinity.
"Ah-careful!" He hissed, though not out of real anger, just a bit of surprise and pain because you'd really stomped down on his toes without meaning to. His hands had shot up to your shoulders, pushing you away from him, holding you at arms length.
Your gazes met at the same time and he blinked, abruptly letting go of you and stepping back, his eyes looking you up and down. "Oh." Hightower girl.
You frowned at his reaction but you were not in the mood today to get into an argument with the prince of the city, though some days you almost lived for it. "Forgive me, I was not looking where I-"
"No. I daresay you were not." Daemon smoothly interrupted, causing a flash of irritation to go through you. As much as you tried to conceal it, it did not go unnoticed and his lip curled into an amused smirk.
He leaned in slightly, his eyes now full of mischief as he saw the reaction he'd drawn out of you. Very similar to the ones you often drew from him, merely by the circumstance of your birth. He had not the stomach for Hightower cunts, after all, but he had absolutely found some use for you - getting to make you scowl and want to stomp your pretty little foot was the highlight of his day sometimes.
"You know, if you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask." He purred, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.
Your own hand immediately came up to slap his away before he could even touch you. Daemon chuckled, straightening up and letting his eyes roam down your form once more, from head to toe. This time it felt like there was something more than just derision there... and a sort of heat started to creep through you. Once his eyes met yours again, he gave you another one of his irritating smirks and then turned on his heel and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.
With a glare, you watched him leave, ignoring the deep ache that started to gnaw at you somewhere within and then you turned away and continued about your business.
Idiot.
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Hours later, your frustrated footsteps took you through the keep, away from your father's office, out into the fresh air. The expression on your face was anything but happy, the argument you had just had with Otto fresh in your mind. You had, of course, gone to him intending to have a very levelheaded conversation about all of this but as usual it had descended into madness.
'It is high time you wed and start a family of your own, I have coddled you too long. Grow up. You will marry him.'
The words were spinning in your mind as you exited and stormed out to the Godswood. Not for any reason other than the fact that you knew it would be empty of people and your main desire was to be alone.
You didn't even want to talk it out with your little sister right now because you knew Alicent would only try and defend him. Ever the little appeaser, she would probably say that Otto was only doing what he thought was best. If he wanted to do what was best for you, why not let you marry someone you wanted, when you wanted?
A large pair of hands suddenly gripping you by the waist from behind and pulling you backwards, flush up against a hard body, startled you from your web of thoughts.
"You know the Gods aren't actually listening, don't you?" Daemon's lips grazed your hair and his breath was hot in your ear.
With a squeal, you scrunched in on yourself, squirming out of his grasp, twisting around to shove him away by the chest. "Daemon!" Your tone was scolding.
He only chuckled, leaning against the nearest tree as he looked back at you. "What?" He asked innocently.
You could only frown. Usually you had no problem giving back what you got but you simply don't have the heart for any of it today.
"Oh, what?" Daemon practically sneered, his lip curling as he stared at you. "Cat got your tongue, Hightower girl?" He knew your name but he never bothered to use it, simply out of a desire to further annoy you. You only ever called him by his name and he never called you by yours.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a look but there was not as much fire in it as usual and he found that this disappointed him a little.
"I saw you leaving your father's office." Daemon continued, watching the way your jaw tightened just slightly. He smirked. "Is it your cunt of a father that has upset you, hm?"
Where he expected to see a scowl at his insult against Otto, perhaps even a little fight, you instead huffed a humourless laugh and threw your hands up in a defeated manner. Upset was an understatement, you felt so far beyond just upset.
Daemon frowned, his expression becoming more serious. Well, teasing you was no fun if you did not react in the way he had become accustomed to. It seemed that he might have hit the nail on the head here without even really meaning it - he thought your mournful look was due to his presence, though now that he thought about it you had stormed out here in something of a temper. He had followed you all the way from inside, after all, so he'd seen the swiftness of your steps.
"What has he done now?" He asked then, studying your face with a look you rarely saw on him.
"Nothing." You mumbled, looking down at the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was pour your heart out to Daemon fucking Targaryen.
"It does not look like nothing." Was all the prince said in response.
Just that, not a hint of mockery in his tone, and you lifted your head to frown at him again. He did not look his usual level of cruel amusement. He looked almost like he... actually just wanted to know. That couldn't be right.
However, something about that made you just blurt the words out. Your father had basically sold you off to one of those stupid, stuffy lords on the small council. You had no choice and you felt like you were suffocating!
After you finished venting, Daemon's expression changed again. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you caught the slight narrowing of his eyes as he stared at you in silence. The smugness seemed to have been wiped completely from his face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him without it.
"What?" You asked, confused now as well as frustrated. Why was he not making fun of you about this? Why was he not taunting you with your looming fate?
Daemon gave the slightest shake of his head, his gaze dropping away from your face slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again as if he'd changed his mind. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and then he turned his face, looking away over the trees.
Your gaze had dropped to his mouth but you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach that the glimpse of his tongue gave you and tried to focus.
"What?" You asked again, a little more firmly this time. Daemon's silence was setting you on edge.
"What do you mean, what?" Daemon practically hissed as he turned his face back towards you.
Your glare returned at his tone. That was more like it. More familiar. "What do you think I mean? What is your problem?"
"You are my problem!" Was his furious reply as he took a step towards you.
"I have never done anything to you!" You exclaimed back. It was always him! Starting an argument or saying something snide in passing. He'd started this whole thing! If you were such a problem, why did he keep seeking you out just to bother you?
"Oh, do not act as though you are blind!" Daemon said, exasperated.
"What are you talking about?" You could not understand how a discussion about your predicament had spun so out of control. Why was he so angry? He was the one who'd asked! You were the one who was being given to some random man! "This is typical Daemon Targaryen. Everything is always about y-"
"You know very well that I have desired you, do not try and deny it!" Daemon snapped.
The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. You stared at him, your expression now one of shock. He stared back, his one of anger and also regret for speaking the words aloud.
"You..." Was all you could get out before you fell silent once more. This did not make sense.
In one of the most surprising moves he had ever pulled on you, Daemon closed the remaining distance in an instant. Taking your face in between his hands, he held you in place for a moment as his dark gaze burned across your features, and then his mouth descended upon yours and you were thrown so far into shock you were not sure you would ever come back from it.
His kiss was hot and passionate and his tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening as you... kissed him back, the desire that had been fighting for attention inside you for years now taking control.
His hands moved from your face and took hold of your waist as his mouth continued to explore yours, guiding you backwards towards the tree and pressing you gently up against it. You would have expected him to be rough and quick but he was not. His touch was gentle and soft and your heart was practically flying in your chest.
His body pressed up against yours as he deepened the kiss and you couldn't stop a soft sound of desire leaving you. It spurred Daemon on as a hand moved up from your waist, sliding up over your dress. He groaned into your mouth at the shape of you and you felt like you were on fire.
Only when Daemon's fingers began to fiddle with the lacing at the front of your bodice did you come back to your senses, turning your face to break the kiss and the hands that had moved to grasp his shirt began to push him away. "Stop... stop..."
The kiss stopped but Daemon did not immediately move away, his nose grazing your hair and his breath now hot against your ear as he fought to get his lust under control.
Eventually, he pulled away, his hands leaving you, stepping back to put distance between you both.
You were in an absolute whirlwind. Had that actually just happened? You had kissed Daemon. Daemon had kissed you. He'd been desiring you? For how long? Why? He hated you, did he not? You had so many questions and a moment later you turned your face back so you could see him.
Daemon stood where he was for another few moments, breathing heavily as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he suddenly turned on his heel and started walking off.
"Daemon!" You called, stepping after him in surprise. What? He was just going to leave? This was not finished!
The prince said not another word, nor did he turn around, simply picked up his pace and disappeared.
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The night was quiet.
The hour of the wolf had come and you had still not managed to fall asleep. It was not just your marriage predicament playing on your mind this night, it was also the moment with Daemon in the Godswood.
His hands on your waist. His tongue in your mouth.
You would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you had never imagined it before. Despite the way he often spoke to you, and the remarks or looks you sometimes even gave him back, you had always had that funny feeling around Daemon. Try as you might (because he was a complete bastard, there was no denying it) you just hadn't been able to shake it. That desire.
Desire. He'd said he had desired you. How long had he felt that way? Why had he never said or done anything? To be fair, you knew why, and it probably had everything to do with your father.
Otto Hightower was the snake in Daemon's boot.
You thought about the way he'd looked at you when you'd told him about Otto's plan to marry you off. The speechlessness you had never witnessed before. The way his anger had risen quite quickly, causing him to just blurt out these apparently hidden feelings he'd been harbouring.
Your thoughts began to wander, wondering what would have happened if you had just let him continue what he'd been doing. If you'd let him pull at the laces of your dress and go further. He'd already had you up against the tree, what would it have been like if you'd just... let him take you?
As you imagined it, an ache began to grow steadily down between your thighs. Sighing, you squirmed. It was too late for this! You needed to sleep... yet it would not go away and your thoughts would not quiet.
With a frustrated noise, you shifted and your hand slid beneath the sheets. You couldn't believe that you were about to do this. Touch yourself to the thought of Daemon fucking Targaryen. That rude, arrogant, self-centred...
Your eyes drifted closed as you pulled the hem of your nightdress up and moved your fingers where you wanted - no, needed - them.
The lightest of touches was all you were afforded before you heard the sound of soft knocking at the door. You flinched, eyes flying open again as you sat up on your elbows and stared at the door with a frown.
The hour was so late. Who could that possibly be?
"Who is it?" You eventually called out, in case it was Alicent or maybe a guard informing people of a problem - though you had not heard any activity in the halls.
Instead of receiving a reply, your heart leapt into your throat as the door was simply pushed open upon hearing you were awake and a figure slipped into the room. It took you a moment to realise it was not any old intruder.
"Daemon!" Your heart rate slowed again, though not by much. The fact he was here at all was very improper.
He did not speak but stayed standing by the now closed door, staring at you through the darkness.
His silent, lingering presence in your dark chamber unnerved you slightly. "What are you doing?" You hissed.
Daemon blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie he'd found himself in. He had been staring at you in the bed, not having been prepared for the sight even though he'd known logically you would be in it. "I thought that we should speak." He said, taking a step away from the door.
You sat up even further in the bed. "At this hour? In my chambers? You should not be here."
"I could not sleep." He said simply. Even through the darkness you could see the way his gaze flickered very quickly over your sheet-covered form.
"What has that got to do with me?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. Had he been thinking about it too? Had it kept him awake as it had kept you?
Daemon's slight smirk returned as he took another step towards the bed and slowly moved to sit down on the edge of it. He wanted to touch you but he refrained. You were right, it was late and inappropriate but he just hadn't been able to rest. He had been pacing a hole in the floor of his own room for the past few hours.
You shifted in the silence that followed, refusing to be the first to break it. Your eyes were glued to him.
"I would say sorry about earlier," his voice came again. "But I would not mean it."
"Why are you here, Daemon?" You asked, ignoring what he'd just said completely.
He smiled a little wryly and his gaze dropped briefly to the low neckline of your nightdress and back up to your face. The moonlight streaming in through your window was the only thing illuminating the room.
"I think you know why I am here." He murmured, lifting a hand as if to reach for you face.
As earlier in the day, you lifted your own hand and lightly smacked his away before he could touch you. "I am not one of your whores!" You snapped, offended.
"Give yourself to me and I will never take another whore again, I swear it." Daemon said simply, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving your face.
"What?" You leaned backwards but the pillows didn't let you move too far from him. You could feel that ache again... the closer he got, the more he spoke.
"I mean it, I am being serious." He stated, lifting his hand again to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek. This time you let him. "You do not wish for your father to marry you off to that stuffy idiot." He whispered, shifting closer. "Well, neither do I." His tone had darkened a little on that, taking on an almost possessive quality that made your heart somersault. "I presume you are a maiden." It tended to be something of a good bargaining chip for arranging unions between houses, after all.
Daemon's touch travelled slowly down your cheek towards your jaw and he eventually curled his long fingers under your chin, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Give yourself to me," he repeated. "And I will deflower you and make it known... the marriage will be over before it is even begun." He knew this particular lord well and he knew he would not want a wife who had been sullied.
You stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment, trying to ignore the tightening in your belly and the racing of your heart at his proximity and his words. "To what end?" You asked in a helpless little whisper. "I would not have to marry this lord, no, but then what? I will surely be...-" Unwanted by most, seen as ruined perhaps, used. And gods the fury of your father when he found out...
As much as you desired him you did not want to be just one of Daemon's conquests, especially when it would leave you ostracised with no options while he continued to swan around doing whatever he wanted with no consequences. Oh, to be a man, you thought bitterly.
However, you did not get to finish your thought as Daemon interrupted, with a frustrated little frown on his face as if he'd expected you to piece that together on your own. "You would marry me."
A silence followed in which the two of you simply stared at each other. You were stunned. Did he mean that or was he being annoying? Despite the frustration on his face, which was also kind of born from his lust, you got the feeling he wasn't making fun of you. Not this time.
"What?"
"I said you would marry me, Hightower girl, are you deaf?"
A small scowl appeared on your face at his response and you pulled your face from his grasp. No, you were not deaf, but it was a bit of a bloody shocking thing for him to say, wasn't it?
"I have a name you know, you arrogant-!" You cut yourself off before you could say something too terrible but the irritation remained on your face. He had never in all the years you'd known him told you off for not using a title with him, yet he had also never called you by your own name from what you could recall. No doubt he had probably long forgotten it!
Daemon smirked at the sudden rise of fire in you. You had been off for most of the day due to wallowing in your misery and fighting with you had not felt quite as satisfactory as it usually did.
"There she is." He muttered, reaching for your face again. This time he took it with both hands like he had in the Godswood and he stared directly into your eyes, amusement shining on his face as he said your name.
Something about it falling from his lips, the way his mouth moved as he spoke it, coupled with the slowly growing desire in his eyes made you cave. Something flickered in your eyes. Daemon saw it and he immediately took it as a yes and leaned in. You did not object, tilting your head slightly once his mouth came down on yours, kissing him deeply.
A moment later his hands left your face and he was tugging at you to get you to lie back down. You shifted, still reeling slightly, and lay down again in the bed. Your heart was racing. You should not be doing this.
Any further thought was momentarily ceased as Daemon slid over top of you, hovering for a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take in as much as they could of you through the dark. "You are beautiful." He mumbled, so quiet that you thought he'd probably said it accidentally. His mouth immediately descending upon your own to prevent any response strengthened this thought.
You kissed him back right away, not in the state of mind to fully think on it anyway. Your desire was rising and the ache that had kept you awake was growing once more.
You made a small sound into his mouth which made Daemon press his body down against yours a little. The contact just made you feel hotter.
His hand slowly moved up to the neckline of your nightgown and this time you did not try to stop him. You let his fingers tug at the little ties, feeling it loosen with each one he pulled free. Your heart was now hammering so hard in your chest that you wondered how you had not passed out.
This is wrong, your mind was screaming.
But if it was wrong... then why did it feel so right?
Your thoughts ceased again when Daemon's fingers touched the bare skin of your right breast, having gotten the laces at the bust undone while you were kissing. You made a sound into his mouth and then he broke the kiss, pulling back so he could look down at you, wanting to see you properly.
The light in the room was dim but his eyes were keen enough and he groaned at the sight of you, gently pulling the rest of the fabric aside.
Again, Daemon continued to surprise you. Earlier, in the Godswood you remembered expecting his kiss or his movements to be rough and demanding yet it had been soft and gentle. In bed, you had imagined (yes, shamefully, you had imagined) Daemon ripping clothes off impatiently and taking what he wanted, yet he was taking his time undressing you and he was looking at you like you were something special, not just a body he wanted to use.
There was a funny, fluttery feeling in your stomach that you ignored as Daemon's eyes met yours again. He just held your gaze for a few seconds and then his lips were on yours once more. While his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers roamed your breasts - pinching, rubbing, tweaking, caressing - until you were squirming and whining.
You felt the beginnings of one of his trademark smirks and he broke the kiss with a chuckle, pulling back and looking down at you with amused eyes. Before you could complain about his teasing, a hand reached down and began to pull the skirt of your nightdress higher up your legs.
Briefly, you tensed. You tried to hide it but Daemon, who had been watching you very closely, immediately stopped his hand.
"Tell me to stop..." He said quietly. "And I will."
You could have. You could have told him to stop. You could have pushed him off. You could have told him to get out of your room. You could have stopped this whole insane plan right there and then.
But you didn't.
Because you wanted him.
You shook your head and Daemon raised an eyebrow, still not moving. He needed more than that.
You wriggled in frustration. "Please." You muttered, a little embarrassed to seem like you were begging for it, but Daemon did not mock you. His gaze seemed to darken with desire and his fingers clawed at the fabric once more, pulling it all the way up your thighs, wanting access to you. He might not seem it but he was growing impatient. He could feel the proof of it straining against his breeches, practically screaming to be let out.
But he would not be selfish and greedy. Not tonight. Not with you.
His fingers reached your most forbidden area and your mind immediately went blank once more, a gasp catching in your throat as he began to touch you there. His eyes did not leave your face once, wanting to see every little expression of pleasure that passed across it.
Daemon let out a groan when his fingers slid up and down your centre, feeling how wet you already were for him. He could scarcely believe his luck, it took everything not to just hold you down and finally make you his.
It was all he had been thinking about for months, probably even longer. Every whore he'd fucked to try and banish the thought of you from his mind had only succeeded in lodging you deeper into his heart.
He circled your clit a few times, drinking in the way you writhed at the sensation and then he slipped a finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and he felt you tense slightly once more, an involuntary reaction. He'd felt such a reaction many times before. This was not his first deflowering.
"Shh.." He soothed, leaning in to press soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. "Shh... relax."
Daemon began to move his finger slowly, to allow you to become accustomed to the feeling. He felt you relaxing in response to his kisses and his gentle movements and soon it felt nice and you were making those sweet little sounds once more. He swiped his thumb over your clit again and then inserted a second finger, moving them both in and out with a gentle rhythm.
His lips came back to yours and he stayed like this for a little while, tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers worked you, slowly increasing speed. Your body felt hot, you were shaking and moaning... and Daemon was growing more and more turned on.
When he finally drove you to climax, he could take no more and he grunted, pulling his mouth from yours and leaning back to watch you come undone on his fingers. You were almost dizzy from the stars he'd just made you see but your eyes reopened as you felt him move away, whimpering slightly as his fingers left your heat.
You heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your heart started to race.
His fingers were starting to becoming impatient as he freed himself of his bothersome clothing and then moved himself back on top of you. When he kissed you this time, you felt something pressing up against you that was certainly not his hand. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth.
Daemon's lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw to your neck. He let them linger there, kissing and licking your skin as his hand moved back down your body, caressing your breasts and familiarising himself with the shape of you. He gently nudged your legs apart with his knee, trying not to rush too much because the last thing he wanted to do was go too fast and ruin the experience for you, but he wanted you to badly by this point it was almost painful.
Your body was on fire and your mind was focused on nothing but him, him, him. If there had been any lingering doubts anywhere inside of you, there wasn't any longer. You wanted this. You craved it. You had craved it for a long time, though you had not fully let yourself think it.
Daemon's hand took hold of his length and he gave himself a lazy stroke as his teeth gently grazed against your neck. The scent of you and the way you were responding to him was driving him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. For you to finally be his.
He guided himself to your cunt and began to slide himself through your wetness, not quite pressing in yet, teasing you over and over as he got you used to the feeling of him.
You whimpered desperately.
Daemon groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Gods, I want you." He muttered. He was frustrated, almost guilty, that he had not the patience to spend more time on your body. He wanted to taste you, but he told himself next time.
"Please..." You whispered, once more practically begging him. The feeling of his cock gliding through your slick was too much, you needed more, you needed to feel him. "Please." You said again, in a whine that caused Daemon to groan again in response.
He pulled his head back and looked down at you. "Say you want me."
"I want you." The words fell from your lips easily. They were true. They had always been true.
"I want you too." He whispered, leaning back in to kiss you one more time before he pulled away again and then shifted slightly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time as he began to press himself into you, your arousal making it so easy for him to slide himself into your heat.
Gods, the slick between your thighs made you feel like such a wanton little thing. He almost growled.
Another few seconds and he was buried inside you. He gave a deep moan as he pressed his face back into your neck, dizzy on the feeling. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the tension rise in you once more though and he leaned back up, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your face and jaw again.
"Shh..." He soothed once more as he heard your breath catch in your throat when he shifted his body. He had gotten you ready for him and been as gentle as he could but he knew you were hiding the fact it still hurt a little.
"Look at me." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and then looking down at your face. "Good girl." He purred when your eyes met his, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The praise awoke something inside you and you made a soft sound. He smirked slightly, having felt the fluttering of your walls around him. "Mhm. You liked that." Daemon teased.
If your face was not scarlet before, it was when he said that. Still, all panic had left your body as you were now just focused on the pleasure of the moment. When Daemon tested the waters by shifting his hips a little bit, a soft moan left you and he could tell it was feeling better for you. So he moved again. Then again. And again.
Soon, he had built up a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. The room filled with lewd sounds and you could do nothing but revel in it. The burn had faded and now each thrust of his hips gave you a jolt of pleasure. Daemon was good at this. You supposed it was to be expected with all the experience it sounded like he had.
He wanted to last. He really did. But he had wanted you for so long and he felt like he was about to burst with each little sound that left you, each little wriggle you made underneath him, each time your nails gently bit into his arms as you clung to him.
His movements began to get quicker and you whined as he rubbed repeatedly against a certain spot inside of you. He grunted hard as he realised the reaction you were having. Daemon, however, was slightly unhappy with something. You were not reaching release quick enough and he was worried, with the way things were going, that he would before you did. He would be damned if he left you unsatisfied.
He moved his hand back down between your bodies and found your clit again, circling the little bud with skillful fingers. It was not long after that you were trembling and then shattering as he pushed you over the edge once more.
The sounds that your release pulled from you were so hot that he pretty much fell apart there and then. He groaned helplessly and buried his face back into your neck, breathing heavily as he moved his hips a few more times, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he felt himself nearing completion. With a harsh moan, Daemon then spilled himself inside of you and collapsed on top of you.
For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing as the two of you lay there like that, tangled together, all hot and sticky. You felt utterly boneless. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was ragged, your heart racing, your body limp beneath his weight.
It was perfect.
He was perfect.
"I will speak... to my brother to... tomorrow." Daemon muttered against your neck, slowly coming back to himself. Even if Otto held any reservations after what happened, Viserys would no doubt smooth them over somehow and convince him that you marrying Daemon was the best (and only) option to come out of this.
You could only hum in response, delighting in the kisses he began once more pressing against your skin. You felt warm and content and when he eventually moved and rolled off you, you couldn't hold in a sound of disappointment. Immediately you felt embarrassed but Daemon's arms coming around you and pulling you to him distracted you from it.
Opening your eyes, you blinked at him. "You can't stay."
"We are to be married." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. "I have taken you. Everyone will find out anyway." He reminded you. That was the plan after all.
"Yes, but..." Your cheeks felt hot but hopefully he would think you were just still coming down from the high because you partly were. The idea of being caught with a man (Daemon Targaryen of all people) in your bed was too scandalous. A step outside your comfort zone. "...you..."
"I will go, do not worry." Daemon purred in your ear, flicking his tongue out lightly over the outer edge, smirking as he felt you shiver. "I only want to hold you until you fall asleep. Does that not sound nice? Hm?" He did not say that he simply could not stomach the thought of just rolling out of bed and leaving you lying here all by yourself after your very first time. He did not want to leave you alone in the dark.
You sighed, acting bothered, but it did sound very nice and you were already so comfortable. He was very warm... so you were quick to relent. "Fine. But as soon as I am asleep..." Your voice held as much warning as you could muster.
Daemon chuckled softly, nodding as he adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed and pulling you up tighter against his body. "Yes, my lady." He said it as if you had given a command and he liked the way his teasing tone made you giggle.
It did not take you long to fall asleep. Indeed, you were so exhausted, you were out in a few minutes.
Unfortunately, Daemon was also so exhausted that he fell asleep mere moments after you did.
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When Alicent entered your chambers the next morning, she got quite a shock... and quite an eyeful, as Daemon had kicked himself out of the covers at some point during the night, giving the poor girl an unfortunate glimpse of his backside that did not leave her memory for the rest of her days.
Her shriek was what caused your father to come running into the room. You were not sure you had ever seen Otto quite so angry in your whole life. After the initial shock wore off, you thought he might actually be so angry he would lay hands upon the prince but he managed to somehow hold himself back.
The look of disappointment was clear as your father turned his gaze on you but Daemon, now standing, shifted in front of you the second he saw it and blocked Otto's view.
If anyone would take Otto Hightower's anger, it would be him.
"What's say you and I go and have a talk with my brother, hm?" Daemon muttered, his eyes narrowed.
Otto stared at him with barely concealed rage. The last thing he wanted was his child linked to a man like Daemon Targaryen. He had been a thorn in his side for years. And now he had... defiled one of his daughters! He tried to look at you again but Daemon cleared his throat.
Otto glared at the prince. "You may wish to put on some clothes first." Was all he said before turning and sweeping from the room, dragging Alicent out by her elbow, letting the door slam behind them.
You would have burst into tears if you were not so shocked. You watched Daemon turn to pull his clothes back on. When he looked up at you, he was smirking.
"It's not funny!" You exclaimed.
"Oh, come on." He teased, sitting down on the bed and leaning closer. "It is a little bit funny."
You turned your head so he couldn't kiss you, frowning. You had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in your whole life. Though it would have come out anyway when Daemon told his brother and you confirmed but to have been walked in on by your father and sister was another thing entirely!
Daemon sighed, lifting a hand to your chin and gently turning your face back towards him. "I'm sorry."
"You said you would leave!"
Daemon blinked, feeling a little bit guilty because he could see this actually had been difficult for you. "I did not do it on purpose, I fell asleep!"
You scoffed. "Right."
"Hey. I mean it." He said and he looked and sounded so serious that you did believe him.
There was a brief silence and then Daemon smirked again.
"What?" You asked, half snapping at him.
Your tone did nothing to rid him of his smile, the smirk turning into a bit of a grin. "When I return," he said as he leaned in again. "You and I will be betrothed."
You could not stop your face from breaking into a smile of your own. "You seem very confident in that fact." After what he'd just walked in on, you were pretty sure your father would be vehemently against this, perhaps simply out of spite and anger.
"Don't you know by now, Hightower girl?" Daemon's eyes glinted with mischief as he closed the distance and kissed your lips once more. When you parted, he was smirking again. "I always get what I want."
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alltimefail · 7 months ago
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Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."
In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:
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because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...
Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.
Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?
OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).
What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.
It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).
Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!
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imsilay · 1 year ago
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VENOR
NSFW! mdni +18, cw: stalking, stalker!König (idk lol lmk id i have to add anything)
word count: 1.3k
summary: His obsession for you was overwhelming. So yours too.
pt.2 posted! here
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cr: dwisesz on twt (sir is that seat taken?)
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There was something about the way you talk, move, look, glance at him; and he was enhanced by you. That was why he wanted to watch you all the time. You were his only entertainment, his deep desire and obsession. His obsession was too strong and he was powerless against it. He just couldn’t resist the craving he had for you. So he was ignoring all your personal boundaries just to keep observing you.
He watched you in awe as you walked around your home where you're the most relaxed and vulnerable. The black, silky nightgown you were wearing was making his head spin. The way the dress moved along with your body as you got ready for your night routine was impressive. First, you'd make a cozy spot for yourself. Then, you'd put on some music to play in the background while you read and drink some tea.
He watched you carry the absurdly large pillows to your nest. Your petite form was sinking into the couch that was filled with pillows and blankets. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair. He was glad that he had enough time to set multiple cameras in your house when you were at work. The perfect angle to see you was the camera on your bookshelf. Your body was directly towards it and the nightgown slid up to your thighs. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it. But he had a problem, a huge problem. He had a fetish for the delicate skin of your thighs. He wanted to mark them so bad. The bite marks he’d leave on your thighs would make them look more gorgeous. But it’d make him look like a madman, right?
He continued to observe you but it was hard to pry his eyes off your thighs. The next stop was your breasts. He felt his cock throb at the sight. Your nipples were noticeable thanks to the thin fabric and you, for not wearing any bra at home. He swallowed thickly and his arms tensed against his chest. How he wanted to bury his head between your soft breasts… Using your chest as a pillow after a horrible nightmare would heal him. You were his only remedy.
Then his gaze shifted to your neck, which he wanted to kiss and suck hickeys on. A soft sigh drew his focus on your neck and his shoulders stretched. What happened? Were you not feeling good? Were you cold? Concern gnawed at his heart as his whole body tensed. But it was nothing he was expecting. Your bottom lip was captured by your pearly teeth and your legs now crossed. Your thighs pressed together and rubbing slowly. He narrowed his eyes trying to process what you’re up to.
“Verdammt.” he hissed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with frustration. His mask was hiding his flushed face but nothing could hide the massive bulge on his pants. “Bitte Liebling, tu es nicht.” (Please darling, don’t do it.) he mumbled and looked back at the big screen in front of him. How could you be so cruel? Teasing him like that… Your body squirming as you stubbornly continued to read that book. Was that the reason you were pulling down your panties and spread opening your legs? “So hübsch.” (So pretty.) he mumbled at the sight of your wet cunt.
You must feeling so comfortable with satisfying yourself in the living room because you had no problem letting out loud moans as your fingers rubbed at your clit. He couldn’t resist his painful arousal anymore. It was okay if he satisfy himself along with you, right? It wouldn’t harm anyone. He unbuckled his belt swiftly and unzipped his pants. His cock spung free and hit against his stomach when he pulled down his boxers. The tip of his cock was red and dripping precum from all the time he was holding back. He groaned and tipped his head back as he fisted his fat cock with his large hand. That man was big. From head to toe, everything about him was big.
Your desperate and needy whimpers were filling his room as he jerked off the perfect view of your pussy. “I bet your small fingers can’t even reach the spots that make you squirm.” he mumbled a he focused on how desperately you fingered your greedy cunt. “I could do that for you, Maus. I’d finger your pretty pussy until you can’t cum.” he mumbled between his whimper and groans. His thumb drawing circles on the sensitive tip of his cock while fantasizing about what he’d do to your pussy. When your moans turned into cries he knew you were close. Your hips twitching and your head pressed to pillows. He was also close and he cum along with you imagining how good it’d feel like cumming inside you.
You stayed there for three more minutes before getting up and taking a cold shower. He cursed himself for not being able to put a damn camera in your bathroom. He waited until you get out, trying not to break his own neck for that great mistake. He finally took a deep breath when you got out of shower but he chocked on his breath when he saw you in only a short towel wrapped around your body. That fucking towel wasn’t even covering the half of your body.
“Mein Gott.” he breathed. The towel dropped when you stood in front of your closet to pick up your pjs. His cock got rock hard instantly. He didn’t even tried to convince himself to stop. It was all your fault for being so hot when you bend over to pick your panties up. His hand stroking his thick cock as he watched you get dressed. You liked to watch yourself from the mirror as you get dressed. It tortured him the most. The way your underwear clinged to your hips making them look harder to resist.
He felt like a pervert when he released another load of cum. His hips bucking up to fuck his fist. The comfort of being home allowed him to whimper and moan as loud as he wanted. He watched as you climbed on the bed and covered your body with blankets. His hand was still his twitching cock, watching you as you got ready for sleep. Now it was his problem that he was still rock hard��� He got up and kicked his pants out, removing layers as he walked to bathroom. A cold shower was what he needed to suppress his animalistic urges now.
You smirked when the notification sound came from your phone. Your back was turned to the camera so he couldn’t see what you were doing. “How cute.” you murmured. The camera that you placed on his bathroom was working perfectly, providing you the most mouth watering view. He was showering, and he was moaning your name as he fucked his palm. Your finger brushed against the screen of your phone. Did he know you were a sucker for him? Did he know the necklace you bought for him came along with a tracker? How would he feel about you stealing the keys of his room? Which he never let you in. The curiosity was eating you alive. So you'd find out what he was hiding tomorrow. You continued to watch him shower until you fell asleep.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>
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yes, i finally did it :> imma post it now but i’m not satisfied with it. so i might delete sorry (:
tag:
@entityunkown @elichisstuff @mikisworls
for some content: You two are close friends so you got keys to his house and he do too. You know he’s in love with you -not that he’s too obsessed- but he doesn’t knows. The said room is that he keeps locked is the room he watched your home and was filled with your belongings, photos, videos etc…
taglist?
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hannieehaee · 1 month ago
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hey luna! been waiting for you to open your reqs here's the thing, i've been watching the kdrama DOONA and is obsessed with this one episode when doona found out she has a stalker. So I was thinking can you make a SVT members's reaction to their non idol gf having a stalker? And what they do to the stalker?
their s/o having a stalker
content: established relationship, stalking, etc.
wc: 767
a/n: i havent watched doona but i hope what i wrote fits what you meant!!
masterlist
seungcheol -
i feel like he'd wanna personally be there with you at all times to make sure you weren't under any danger. even if he hired you some security, he wouldnt feel at ease unless you were by his side until the stalker was caught. if possible (with your job, school, etc), he'd wanna take you with him for his own peace of mind.
jeonghan -
other than your safety, one of his first priorities would be to make sure you didnt worry too much. would try to break the tension around the subject and keep you calm through jokes or by comforting you whenever necessary. he'd try to take care of your constant safety and of any legalities behind it on his own as to not worry you too much.
joshua -
he'd make liberal use of his money to ensure you had as much protection as possible while he's away. he wouldn't want you to have to alter or pause your life bc of some loser that thinks they can try and enter your life without consent. would install a home security system for you, hire security guards, report everything to the police. his ass would nawt play about this!!
jun -
i feel like he'd even be willing to go on hiatus to stay with you up until your stalker is caught. it'd worry him 24/7, even affecting his performance at work. he'd do everything in his power to ensure your safety, but would feel lacking up until the point where you were completely out of danger.
soonyoung -
as annoyed and angry as he is at your stalker, his first priority would be your safety. he'd be there for you 24/7 any time you called or texted him, worrying that the next text would be something worrisome. his main focus would be reassuring you and making sure you felt (and were) safe at all times.
wonwoo -
he takes this shit insanely seriously. would completely ignore the stalked publicly bc he knows they thrive off attention, but would still be very obvious in his protectiveness over you. would hire special security for you and ensure you were always accounted for.
jihoon -
out of all of them, i think jihoon would be the one angriest at the situation. he has stalkers of his own, but itd be a whole other issue if his s/o faced the same thing. he'd wanna take care of it himself, to rid himself of that frustration by taking matters into his own hands. but he'd realistically know that's not an option.
seokmin -
uncharacteristically angry at the whole situation. he usually lights up rooms and is full of positive vibes, but not even he can twist this into something other than worrisome. he'd go into overprotective mode. would take advantage of all the resources available to him to take care of you at all times.
mingyu -
another one who would literally embody the role of personal bodyguard. he wouldnt feel at ease unless he was personally there for you making sure you were safe. wouldnt wanna be overbearing but itd be impossible for him to help his worries unless he had constant access to you.
minghao -
rare moment in which he'd be crazy angry. the whole situation would frustrate him to no end. as an idol, he has to deal with his fair share of stalkers, so knowing that his s/o has one despite not even being a public figure would make him feel so powerless and angry. he'd do everything at his disposal to ensure your constant safety.
seungkwan -
he'd genuinely enter uncharted levels of stress through this. he'd feel so angry at the whole situation, wanting to take matters into his own hands but knowing that's an irrational thought. would end up pushing all frustration aside to comfort you and ease you of any of your own worries.
vernon -
i feel like its hard to make vernon angry or to worry a lot bc of how chill and relaxed he usually is. however, in this instance he'd be uncharacteristically annoyed and antsy. he deals with tons of stalkers and fans who overstep the line every singe day, but to have his s/o deal with something of that same fashion would just leave him feeling helpless.
chan -
does not play about this shit he'll literally contact the police immediately. he'll already know how to deal with stalkers from personal experience, so he'd be working that shit like the navy. even with the fun and easy-going personality he has, he wouldnt be able to find any humor in the situation.
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago
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Hey! How are you?
May I request how the batboys would react to reader losing their job unfairly? I just lost my job for no reason after only working there for 2 weeks. I could really use some comfort rn 😭😭
Sweetheart, I know your pain in loosing a job unfairly, I’ve been there before and funnily enough they’re suffering to this day with ppl wanting to leave and or leaving. Karma is truly a bitch. I’m sending all the virtual hugs I can.
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Jason
Livid isn’t even close in describing how he felt upon hearing the news but it was the closest word for how he was feeling right now. The fact that you had been let go and unfairly too after a short period of time was enough to make his blood boil.
No explanation just ‘yeah we’re letting you go for no real reason cuz we’re tight fisted cunts who can’t be bothered with bettering ourselves for our staff, and would much rather let them go without prior warning because we’re just that shitty of an employment.’
In Jason’s opinion you were the only one who actually knew how to do to do your job and will remind you of this constantly because it was the truth. You worked your ass off at that place and this was the thanks you get? Fuck that!
Jason was more then ready to let the piece of shit who made the call to drop you have a piece of his mind but you had to calm him down and tell him it wasn’t worth the anger and frustration. However to Jason it was more than worth the anger and frustration, his sweetheart lost their job because of some fucking corporate lapdog!
‘They fucked up babe, big time. They lost one of their best and I hope they fucking go bankrupt and loose everything they’re worth because of it.’ Jason would tell you as he presses kisses against your head as you played with his fingers before intertwining them with yours.
‘I hope so too.’ You muttered against his chest and Jason could only tighten his hold on you as he continued to shower you in praise, kisses and utter adoration in hopes of ridding the god awful taste that place left in your mouth and your self esteem. Jason’s as about to let you drown because of them, he’d gladly keep you afloat however he can because you deserve it and so much more than they ever gave you in two weeks.
Dick
‘They’ve lost out on the best thing going sweetheart, they’ll come to regret it sooner or later but you’ll be in a better position when they do.’ He’d whisper reassuringly as he held you close to his chest, his heart breaking when hearing your sobs.
He hated how affected you were by their decision and he hated how powerless he was to stop you from getting hurt by stupid employments like this one. They obviously didn’t see what he saw in you and that was their loss and his gain. You were dedicated, loyal, hardworking but apparently that wasn’t enough for them and so without much thought they dropped you.
So Dick, with the help of Hayley, would try his best to provide you with happier times to drown out the pain that came with reminiscing the shittier times.
They would try their hardest to make you cry tears of joy rather then sadness from their goofiness alone as both Dick and Hayley would rather see you happy then sulk over the decisions of some stupid employment. They -the employment- fucked up with you and Dick wasn’t about to let it be your problem to deal with alone because it wasn’t your problem to deal with in the first place. It was theirs.
So you spent the rest of your days with Dick trying his best in making you happy and smile more then you’ve ever have, that place was poison for you and he’ll try and be your antidote.
Tim would absolutely do everything in his power to ruin your old workplaces reputation out of sheer pettiness, whether it be digging up some dark/ shady stuff that they’ve tried sweeping under the rug or spreading their tendencies to mistreat their staff on a daily basis, Tim would single-handedly destroy their reputation by leaving it in complete shambles.
He was smart enough to do so and could do so if you were to ever say the word, he was more then ready with documents filled with evidence to back up his claims, all he needed was you to give him the go ahead.
Tim could be petty but his petty was unlike anyone else’s and could cause mass damage to corporate assholes, especially those who thought it was completely justifiable to release someone after two weeks of working there.
Give him 5 minutes and the workplace will have collapsed from the information he had released to the general public. That’ll teach them a lesson for certain for messing with you.
However you didn’t want him to get into any trouble because of you and would much rather cuddle with him in bed as you watched a movie on his laptop in your pj’s as you both shared some ice cream. That’s all you needed and Tim was more than willing to comply as he told you how stupid of a decision it was of them to let you go, they were only shooting themselves in the foot and digging their grave simultaneously.
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mommyownsmee · 5 days ago
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Top 3 favourite ways to edge a sub?
What's also your favourite way to deny an orgasm?
Such good questions, well done! x
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My top 3 ways to edge:
Tying you down, blindfolded, while I trace a vibrator over your soaked cunt-hovering just enough to make you beg, then pulling it away before you get what you want. Watching you squirm is half the fun.
Slowly fucking you with my fingers, whispering in your ear how good you feel, how close you're getting, only to stop and make you whimper when you think you're about to break.
Forcing you to ride my strap at an excruciatingly slow pace, holding your hips so you can't take more, teasing you until you're pleading for me to let you go faster.
My favourite way to deny an orgasm:
USING A TIMER
There’s something intoxicating about control. About watching you come undone, about knowing that every whimper, every shudder, every desperate plea is because of me. And nothing makes me savor that more than the slow, torturous game of making you wait.
I’d have you exactly where I want you—maybe tied down, your wrists and ankles bound to keep you from squirming. Maybe kneeling, hands on your thighs, forced to keep your eyes on me, to watch everything I do to you. Or maybe on your back, legs spread wide, completely open and vulnerable, knowing you can’t do anything about what’s coming next.
And then, I’d set the timer.
Ten minutes? Fifteen? Long enough that every single second feels like hell—long enough that anticipation turns into desperation, that desperation turns into suffering. Long enough that you start whimpering before I’ve even touched you.
Because that’s the real torture, isn’t it? Not just the waiting, but knowing what’s coming. Knowing that I’m about to tease you, ruin you, push you so close to the edge, but you won’t be allowed to fall.
And while the seconds tick down, I’d toy with you. My fingers, slow and deliberate, spreading you open, sliding through the slick mess you’ve already made for me. My tongue, just barely brushing against your clit, teasing you with the barest flicks, never giving you enough to satisfy. Or maybe I’d use my toy, pressing it right against you, setting it to the lowest, most maddening vibration—just enough to keep you aching, twitching, needing more.
And every time your hips buck, every time you grind down against me, trying to get something, I’d pull away.
"Pathetic," I’d murmur, my fingers trailing down your inner thighs, watching them tremble. "Look at you—so fucking desperate, and you haven’t even earned it yet."
You’d be panting, breath hitching, thighs shaking, body screaming for relief. But you wouldn’t get it.
Not until that timer goes off.
And I’d remind you of that, over and over, whispering in your ear, "Not yet, baby. You don’t get to come until I say so." You’d watch the clock, your eyes glassy with frustration, with need, with pure fucking suffering as every second drags by like it’s mocking you.
And then—just when you think you’ve finally earned it, just when the timer hits zero and you’re right there, right on the fucking brink—
I’d reset it.
Another ten minutes.
Maybe fifteen.
Maybe twenty.
And you’d watch me do it.
You’d see the way I smirk at your helpless little whimper, the way my eyes darken when your hips jerk up in sheer, involuntary desperation. You’d know exactly what I’m doing to you, and you’d still be completely powerless to stop it.
"Oh, baby," I’d purr, dragging my nails down your stomach. "Did you really think I’d let you come that easily?"
You’d sob at that, your body trembling, your hands twitching where they’re tied because you want to touch me, want to pull me closer, want to force me to give you what you need—but you can’t. You can only wait.
And that’s what I love the most—watching you crumble under my control, watching your self-restraint break into nothing but pure, aching, helpless need. Because by the time I finally let you come—when I decide you've suffered enough—you won't just be desperate.
You'll be fucking wrecked for me.
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pupyuj · 8 months ago
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Dub-con eheh. . . anyway, g!p Yujin who befriends a naive virgin loser just so she can use them as her own personal fuck toy ><
Like imagine having a studying sesh with her and it ends with her just taking your virginity. You're crying and trying so hard to resist, but it's just so hard when she's whispering the most unpure shit in your ear that you can't help but slowly submit.
"you're complaining and trying to resist, yet your moaning like a bitch in heat."
"Shut up and take it like the good girl you are."
"You're not going to tell anyone right? No one is going to believe you, and it's your fault for dressing like a slut and provoking me."
"Gonna mold you into my pretty little pet."
"You love it when I take advantage of your tight little virgin cunt, don't you?."
You're not a slut, right? You're not enjoying this at all
Right?
You can't help but believe every little word she says. Eventually you just give up and take it like the good girl you are, because maybe she is right. Yujin is your friend and friends don't lie to each other, right?
Aaah, manipulative Yujin absolutely has my heart. . . Anyway, can I be 🎀 anon? ^_^
once again i am fashionably late to an ask!! 😭 apologies 🎀 anon, but here you go!!
[cw: dubcon, breeding.]
anything with toxic!yujin in it, i'm on board IDCCCC 🤤🤤 i'd love to think of her as a mean girl in this scenario too! she just wants an innocent little lamb to corrupt and unfortunately you were perfect for it! she's so happy that you were dumb enough to fall for her friendly act, it was too easy! yujinnie totally daydreams about completely destroying your cunt and having you cry out her name for everybody to hear... but she'll start small!
gosh, you were so stupid to not recognize her advances. yujin's touching your ass, practically groping your boobs, and she's always checking you out! but she was surprised at how willing you were to let her do whatever she wanted.. coming up behind you, whispering nasty things to your ear while unbuttoning your shirt.. no resistance at all! yujin always knew there could be this kind of side to you 🫣 you were a virgin in an all-girls university no fucking duh your mind has gone off the edge sometime and looked at some girls a little closer than one should 😙😙
but you see.. you wouldn’t feel too good on the inside about what yujin was doing! :(( every single touch that came from her was out of pure lust, not a single sign of care and intimacy… so you’d try and take her hands off of your tits but she’d only push you down on the bed with your top and bra haphazardly thrown to some corner of the room… yujinnie thinks you look so pretty with your eyes all glossy w tears, she couldn’t help but kiss you! at least she was soft with that! you wouldn’t say the same for the way she treated you after… feeling up your soaked panties from underneath her skirt with her fingers and laughing mockingly… berating you so much bcs here you were, powerless under her, trying to push her away, but you were so wet! and your body completely ignored what you wanted… slightly grinding against yujin’s hand just to feel something more down there.. yujin loved seeing that 😋😋
“this skirt is too cute on you… let’s leave it as it is, hm?” and then she pulls off your panties, not wasting another second before pressing her thumb against your clit just to make you whine loudly for her 🥰 yujinnie’s the one that decides whether you’re ready or not :(( you’re moaning in both pain and pleasure as she inserts two digits inside you so slowly… having to grip her arm bcs you don’t know where to put your hands :(( gosh you were adorable! and ofc yujin fucks you like she fucks any other girl that are stupid enough to get involved with a psychopath like her! rough and so painfully fast! “mm… good girl! you’re getting used to this quickly, huh?” you really weren’t though :((
it was frustrating… bcs it both hurt and felt so good! 😵‍💫 you didn’t know how to feel, let alone think! not a single coherent word left your mouth while yujin busied hers with licking and sucking on your nipples.. your arms wrapped all around her, pushing her closer to you bcs this was the one good thing that she’s done… having to bite onto her shirt just to conceal your noises but she didn’t like that! 🫣 she’d push you back, glaring down at you while she abused your pussy harder than ever if that was even possible! ah, but if you think you were done after cumming on her fingers... well, you were dumber than you actually were 🤭
her being even more unforgiving with her cock :(( just completely disregarding your pained cries and your pleads for her to slow down.. feeling the tip of her cock ram into unknown places inside you, her thickness being such a perfect fit in your tight cunt... yujin was completely addicted! she should've been quicker and fucked you way before if your pussy felt this good around her dick 😳😳 she fucks you with a mocking grin, knowing you were completely powerless to do anything against her.. eventually you just laid there, shaking and moaning her name as she uses you...
"you wanna.. ah, fuck... you wanna know how it feels to be bred full, princess?" oh, come on, this is yujin! ofc she doesn't wait for an answer! you couldn't utter a word that wasn't her name and a bunch of nonsense anyway! laying there as yujin dumped every single drop of her cum inside you.. feeling the warm fluid seep inside your walls while yujin stared at you with only filthy obsession in her eyes... you just looked way too pretty under her, you can't blame her for fucking and breeding you that entire afternoon! 💕
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sereinnu · 5 months ago
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Fractured Tides 3
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Warnings: STEP-CEST| drugs and alcohol use| Rafe Cameron| very foul language| more yet to come| DON'T read if you're uncomfortable with these themes| MDNI| I already warned you not to read|
Rafe Cameron x Step-sister!Reader
Despite your efforts to make peace, your stepbrother Rafe's hatred for you persists. Each attempt to bridge the gap only seems to widen the divide, leaving you wondering if you'll ever find common ground in this family.
The days after the party were nothing short of torturous. The house felt more oppressive than ever, each room steeped in a tension so thick it was hard to breathe. The air was heavy with unspoken words, simmering anger, and the constant, gnawing sense that something was about to break.
You tried to immerse yourself in your studies, losing yourself in textbooks and sketches that once brought you comfort. But even in the safety of your room, the memories of Rafe’s cold, cutting words haunted you. Every time you picked up a pencil, your hand would tremble slightly, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil you couldn’t quite push down. The lines on your sketchpad blurred, becoming nothing more than frustrated strokes of graphite that led nowhere.
Rafe was a constant, haunting presence in your life—visible even in his absence. The mere thought of him lurking somewhere in the house was enough to send your heart racing, a toxic mix of dread and something else—something you refused to name—churning in your chest.
The kitchen became your refuge, a place where you could pretend, even if only for a few moments, that things were normal. The simple act of preparing food, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, and the scent of herbs offered a fragile sense of stability. Yet, even here, the fear lingered, like a shadow that never fully receded.
One afternoon, as you were lost in the mindless comfort of chopping carrots, the sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house, followed by the heavy tread of Rafe’s boots on the hardwood floor. You stiffened, your hand faltering as the blade sliced through the carrot, nicking your finger. The sharp sting of pain was immediate, a small, physical echo of the emotional wounds you’d been carrying.
You hissed in pain, but the sound was drowned out by the roar of your heartbeat in your ears. You barely had time to react before Rafe stormed into the kitchen, radiating a fury that seemed to crackle in the air around him. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, his focus solely on the beer he yanked from the fridge with a force that made the bottles rattle.
The tension in the room was suffocating, pressing down on you like a physical weight. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of how vulnerable you were in his presence. Rafe was like a storm, unpredictable and dangerous, and you were caught in the eye of it, powerless to escape.
Finally, he turned to you, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, each word dripping with menace.
You looked up, your breath catching in your throat. The expression on his face made your stomach twist with fear. “About what?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might provoke him further.
Rafe’s eyes flashed with something dark, something that made your stomach twist in fear. “About you,” he snapped, his voice harsh. “About how you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The accusation cut through you like a knife, and you could feel the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But you refused to cry—not in front of him. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t care what you meant to do,” Rafe interrupted, his words laced with venom. “This is my life, my space. And you—” He gestured at you with the beer can, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “You’re just a complication. You’re making everything worse.”
His words were like a physical blow, and you flinched as if he had struck you. Your heart shattered in your chest, the pieces scattering in the empty space between you. You wanted to defend yourself, to tell him that he was wrong, that you did belong, but the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in your throat, suffocated by the overwhelming pain of rejection.
Rafe’s gaze bore into you, unrelenting and cold. “Do yourself a favor,” he said, his voice dangerously calm, sending shivers down your spine. “Stay out of my way. I don’t need you. I don’t want you here.”
With that, he turned and left, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen, your hands shaking and your vision blurred by tears you refused to let fall. You could barely process what had just happened, the sting of his words echoing in your mind like a cruel taunt.
You didn’t know how long you stood there, the weight of his words pressing down on you, crushing you. The silence of the empty kitchen was deafening, the only sound the soft drip of blood from your finger, a small but painful reminder of how deeply his words had cut you.
Later that night, you lay in bed, the darkness of your room mirroring the darkness in your heart. You couldn’t stop replaying the confrontation in your mind, the harshness of his voice, the venom in his words. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, twisted with anger and something else—something like disgust.
The tears finally came, hot and relentless, as you curled up on your side, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. You felt like you were drowning, each sob tearing through you, leaving you gasping for breath. The pain was overwhelming, an all-consuming ache that radiated from your chest and spread through every part of your body.
You wanted to hate him, wanted to hate the way he made you feel so small, so insignificant. But beneath the anger, beneath the hurt, was something far more terrifying—a longing you couldn’t shake, a yearning for something you knew you could never have. The desire for his approval, his attention, gnawed at you, even as you tried to bury it under layers of pain and rejection.
The days that followed were a blur of pain and confusion. You avoided Rafe as much as possible, but every time you saw him, the wounds he had inflicted reopened, raw and bleeding. The house felt like a prison, each room a reminder of the distance between you. The silence between you was deafening, a constant reminder of how much had changed, how much you had lost.
One evening, the unbearable weight of your emotions drove you out of the house. You found yourself at a local bar, drawn by the noise and the people, hoping that the chaos would drown out the turmoil inside you. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat.
You stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing a drink you didn’t want, your eyes scanning the room for a familiar face. But no one here was familiar, and the emptiness inside you only grew. You felt out of place, alone in a sea of strangers.
Then you saw him—Rafe, standing by the bar, another woman draped on his arm, her laughter shrill and grating. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, the sight of him with her reopening old wounds. The memory of him with the ginger that morning flashed through your mind, the way he had chased after you, angry and embarrassed. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the pain was as fresh as ever.
You wanted to look away, to walk out and never come back, but your feet were rooted to the spot, your eyes locked on him. He didn’t see you at first, too caught up in whatever meaningless conversation he was having with the ginger. But then his eyes met yours, and something shifted in his expression.
For a moment, just a moment, you thought you saw something like regret in his eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, distant look you had come to dread. The same look he had given you in the kitchen, the same look that had made you feel so small.
As if sensing the shift in his mood, the ginger followed his gaze and spotted you. Her smile turned icy, and she whispered something in Rafe’s ear, something that made him frown. You couldn’t hear what she said, but you could feel the sting of her words all the same. The jealousy that had been simmering inside you boiled over, and you felt a pang of something dark and bitter twist in your gut.
Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back at you, his expression hardening. The ginger, proud by whatever she had whispered, stepped closer to him, her hand resting on his arm as if she owned him. “Why is she staring at us?” she asked, loud enough for you to hear, her tone dripping with disdain.
Something in Rafe snapped. You saw it happen, the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes darkened with something dangerous. He shoved the ginger's hand off his arm with a roughness that made her stumble back, shock and hurt flashing across her face.
“Shut up,” Rafe growled, his voice low and deadly. The ginger stared at him, stunned into silence, her lips parting in disbelief. “Just shut up and get lost.”
The girl blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Rafe, what the hell—?”
“I said, get lost!” Rafe’s voice rose, anger simmering just beneath the surface. The bar seemed to fall into a hushed silence, and you could feel the eyes of nearby patrons turning in your direction, sensing the brewing storm.
The ginger looked like she wanted to argue, but one look at Rafe’s furious expression made her think twice. With a huff, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Rafe standing there, seething.
The girl's departure left a strange silence in the bar. You felt as if the air had thickened, the tension so palpable it made your skin prickle. Rafe's gaze bore into you from across the room, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control his breathing. You knew he was on the brink of something—whether it was rage, regret, or something else, you couldn't tell.
Desperate to escape his glare and the whirlwind of emotions threatening to pull you under, you turned away, moving deeper into the crowd. You pushed past the swaying bodies and found yourself near the back of the bar, where the noise was slightly muffled and the shadows a little deeper.
It was there, leaning against the far wall with a beer in hand, that you spotted JJ. He was in conversation with someone, but when he noticed you approaching, he excused himself and made his way over to you, his easygoing smile a welcome reprieve from the intensity of Rafe's presence.
"Hey," JJ greeted, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity as he noticed the look on your face. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
You forced a smile, but it was weak and unconvincing. "Yeah, just needed some air. This place is a little... crowded."
JJ chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, it can get pretty wild in here. You sure you're good? You seem a little out of it."
His concern was genuine, and the warmth in his voice brought a fleeting sense of comfort. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, JJ's eyes flicked past you, his expression darkening.
"Shit," he muttered, his body tensing as he stepped in front of you, partially shielding you from whatever had caught his attention.
You turned to see what had alarmed him and immediately wished you hadn't. Rafe was shoving his way through the crowd, his expression murderous, with Topper and Kelce right behind him, both trying to hold him back. But Rafe was a force of nature, his anger propelling him forward with a terrifying momentum.
"Rafe, man, calm down!" Topper urged, his voice strained as he grabbed Rafe's arm, trying to halt his advance. "You're making a scene!"
"Get off me!" Rafe snarled, shoving Topper away with a roughness that sent him stumbling. Kelce made a grab for Rafe's other arm, but Rafe jerked free, his eyes locked on you like a predator zeroing in on its prey.
"Rafe, stop!" Kelce shouted, trying to reason with him, but it was no use. Rafe was beyond reason, his fury blinding him to everything but the need to confront you.
JJ stepped closer to you, his voice low and urgent. "You need to get out of here, now. I'll handle Rafe."
But it was too late. Rafe broke free of Topper and Kelce's attempts to restrain him, his gaze never leaving you. He was on you in an instant, grabbing JJ by the collar and yanking him aside with a force that nearly knocked JJ off his feet.
"Get your hands off her!" Rafe roared, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent bar. JJ barely had time to recover before Rafe was on him, fists flying in a barrage of punches.
JJ tried to fight back, but Rafe was relentless, his anger fueling his every move. The sound of fists meeting flesh was sickening, and the sight of blood splattering across the floor made your stomach turn.
"Rafe, stop!" you cried, trying to intervene, but your voice was drowned out by the chaos. Topper and Kelce were yelling, trying to pull Rafe off JJ, but it was no use. Rafe was out of control, his fury consuming him.
In the midst of the struggle, someone—maybe it was JJ, maybe it was Rafe—threw a punch that missed its mark, and you were caught in the crossfire. The blow landed squarely on your temple, the force of it sending you reeling.
Pain exploded in your head, a bright, searing pain that seemed to radiate from the point of impact and spread through your skull. The room spun violently, the floor tilting beneath your feet as your vision blurred.
You staggered back, the sounds around you growing muffled as your senses dulled. You could hear the distant shouts of Topper and Kelce, the roar of Rafe’s anger, and JJ’s pained grunts, but it all seemed to come from a distance, as if you were hearing it through water.
Then the world tilted again, and you felt yourself falling. Your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, the cold, sticky surface pressing against your cheek as the pain in your head intensified, a throbbing pulse that drowned out everything else.
The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the blurry outline of Rafe, his eyes wide with shock and horror as he realized what had just happened.
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Did I just use the same scene again?
Yes.
But with more drama?
Yes.
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jujubabesblog · 9 months ago
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🩰🌸My first manifestation success story🌸🩰
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I really want to thank @pinkchrissysposts , I took her advice of affirming and her tips for affirming is really amazing too it's been about a week we last texted I send her ask but she left😔.
Also her tip for affirming is pretty amazing I'm gonna copy paste what she recommended me.
"OK here when we get random negative thought we start believing in which cause us to get in the negative state,we are not looking for the proof in the 3D,it's just a random thought we unconsciously start to dwell on by re affirming it,you might notice that when we are ina negative state,we also get positive thought like "no it's not true I'm just overthinking" but again you start negatively thinking despite the fact that everything is OK because you choose to believe in that random thought that's trying to scare you.
So when you are affirming for your desire example 'good skin' even if the 3d is showing you something else ignore it and rather embrace the positive thought/affirmation,believe in the affirmation. When we focus on believing the affirmation rather then looking proof you will realize what wish fulfilled really mean,you can try out a small or even big desire but remember manifestation should be fun,take it as a fun challenge and affirm for whatever you want and remember what I said not for 3d but to just believe it as a fact."
I'm so thankful for her advice,she recommended me to take a break and calmly decide what I truly want,and I finally decided to affirm just as she recommended and I notice so much changes after a day of robotically affirming.
Basically what happens is when you are more focus on trying to believe the affirmation rather then making it 3D,the 3d does start to feel useless or powerless,even when I was sweating,I wasn't worried about it,the affirmation "I never sweat" start to feel more powerful then the 3D. I just affirmed it for fun robotically not to see it in 3D but to believe in it AS A FACT and that lead me in the state of wish fulfilled.
From my very own experience what I think happens is that when we affirm and put our whole attention on just believing the affirmation instead of paying attention to the 3D and looking for results,we detach from our desires or you can say outcome all we want is indeed just the feeling of having the desires. When I did what she suggested I stopped getting doubt because all I had to do was believe that I have my desires,even if I don't have it in the 3D,my subconscious got fooled because it doesn't have any eyes and I got my desire in 4 days I haven't sweat in a week and everyone keep asking what perfume i use:).
As someone who have aphantasia this was such a 360° for me,when I was in was practicing states it was really hard when bloggers would tell me even with aphantasia people can manifest,I would get frustrated and cuss at their text,and my faith and trust on loa was starting to fade but i decided to give affirmation a chance and i read many a +p posts but no one ever recommended and motivated me to affirm like how chrissy did. I'm gonna be starting my void/shifting journey since I now know exactly what to do.
I will be post my void progress on my main account @jujubaaevoid
Xoxo <3
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novlr · 2 years ago
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How do I describe a character when they’re angry and just “so done”? How would they act?
A Quick Guide to Writing Anger
It’s the hot-blooded, ever-challenging, angry character that often steals a scene and captivates readers’ hearts. From the brooding protagonist to the volatile villain, anger introduces a heightened element of emotive dynamism. Anger is a powerful emotion that can define a character's behaviour, interactions, body language, and attitude.
How Do They Behave?
Make impulsive decisions
Have a short fuse and react explosively
Hold grudges
Be physically aggressive
Be motivated by revenge
Exhibit self-destructive tendencies
Speak at an increased volume
Speak unexpectedly fast or slow
How Do They Interact?
Have issues with authority
Struggle to follow orders or instructions
Confrontational or verbally abusive
Overuse of swear words or insults
Struggle to focus or listen to others
Dominate conversations and interrupt often
Become isolationist
Short-tempered and accusatory
Describe Their Body Language
Clenched fists and tight jaw
Rigid and defensive posture
Maintained eye contact
Pacing or fidgeting
Aggressive movements
Increased muscle tension
Point and jab when speaking
Invade others’ personal space
Describe Their Attitude
A sense of dissatisfaction and frustration
Overly sceptical and distrustful of others
Impatient and easily annoyed
Confrontational and arrogant
Feelings of powerlessness
Motivated by vengeance or justice
Hostile and irritable
Blunt, direct, and stubborn
A lack of empathy
Positive Outcomes
Be a motivator for change
Inspire others with their passion for justice
Can be a motivator for personal growth
Learn to articulate their needs and set boundaries
Develop resilience and strength by managing their anger
Increased assertiveness
Experience catharsis and emotional release
Improved problem-solving skills
Negative Outcomes
Damaging to their relationship with others
Can lead to chronic stress or health issues
Become isolated, leading to loneliness and depression
Develop a reputation for being difficult or aggressive
Can cause legal troubles or social rejection
Lower self-esteem and sense of self-worth
Become violent or cause physical harm
Exhibit impaired judgement or decision-making
Useful synonyms
Furious
Enraged
Wrathful
Incensed
Infuriated
Livid
Raging
Fuming
Irate
Outraged
Vexed
Irritated
Resentful
Indignant
Seething
Mad
Hostile
Incensed
Cross
Huffy
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villainsandvictimsalliance · 11 months ago
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The only relationship I've watched in anime that has absolutely convinced me that big age gaps can work out romantically is the one between Barnaby Brooks Jr and Kotetsu T Kaburagi in Tiger and Bunny.
12 years age gap. Barnaby is 23 and Kotetsu is 35. They're literally the newest rookie and the oldest veteran in the hero scene. And you can say "they are not canon" as if the creators hadn't gone out of their way to state that they pretty much don't care how you interpret it, a romantic reading of their relationship is as valid as anything else.
Their respect for each other? Their partnership? They're both treated as grown ass men on the same level.
Somehow Kotetsu can call Barnaby a "cute little bunny" and still he never reduces Barnaby to a naive child who doesn't know a thing about life. Kotetsu treats Barnaby like a man, a professional. He never infantilizes Barnaby for his trauma or his past. He helped Bunny as much as he can, goes beyond his limits to help him reaffirm himself and recover his independence. Kotetsu wants Barnaby to be respected, to not feel powerless, helpless, he wants his partner to stop being manipulated. Bunny's whole arc is that he wants to stop having decisions made for him!!!! Kotetsu knows it!!
On the other hand, Barnaby jokes all the time that Kotetsu is old, calls him grampa, that he should retire, the complete dance. Yet, Barnaby has never seen Kotetsu as a father figure. Kotetsu is Bunny's hero partner, not his superior. Thanks to Kotetsu's respectful treatment, they're friends. Hell, Bunny treats Kotetsu like a man. He doesn't pity Kotetsu for having lost his wife. He doesn't treat Kotetsu any differently when he meets Kaede, Kotetsu's daughter. There are moments when you forget the age gap because the story focuses on them being equals!!! They can take care of each other, they can share their burdens, they talk it out if they are frustrated, they communicate with full responsibility, etc etc etc.
Normally I don't like big age gaps at all. It's more of a personal preference, since those dynamics make me uncomfortable.
Kotetsu and Barnaby are the exception and the standard. God bless the Tiger and Bunny creators.
* also it has some of the best treatments of a teen girl having a crush on an older man I've ever seen. It's nothing predatory 'cause Kotetsu completely respects Karina and never takes advantage of her, also completely healthy because Karina uses that to sort out her teenage conflicts and figure out how she wants to be treated, how she deserves to be treated, what he's looking for in a relationship, how older people should approach her, etc.
Kotetsu is a gentleman through and through. An absolute must watch if you want to learn how to write those types of characters and relationships.
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rose24207 · 2 months ago
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Something with Mafia lando where reader and lando get in a fight and lando yells making reader flinch but lando dosnt realise because he's so angry until after a while he notices how reader avoided physical touch with him and she flinches when he confronts her and is just so sorry and sad that he made reader think that he would ever hurt her.
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Not now. Not ever.
Summary: Lando, consumed by anger during a fight, unknowingly frightens you, causing you to flinch and pull away, leaving him devastated by the realization that he made you fear him and determined to earn back your trust.
Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst, fluff
TW: Mafia, yelling, flinching, anger, argument
A/N: thank you for your request! I hope you like it. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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The air between you and Lando had been thick for days, but it finally reached a boiling point.
It started as a small disagreement, a miscommunication in the mafia world—a wrong decision in a meeting, a miscalculation that cost time and money. You knew what he was like when he was angry; you had seen the flash of rage in his eyes countless times. But this was different. This wasn’t just frustration over business. This was personal.
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Lando’s voice cracked with venom as he stood in the middle of the room, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think you can fix everything, that you have all the answers!”
You tried to keep your cool, tried to bite your tongue, but his words cut deep. “I’m just trying to help, Lando. You’re pushing too hard, and—"
“Help?” he scoffed, stepping forward. “You’re making everything worse. You’re getting in the way. I don’t need your help.” His voice was sharp, every word punctuated with anger.
The room felt smaller, suffocating. The power of his presence—his anger—was palpable, like a storm in the air, ready to strike. You stood your ground, but you could feel your heart rate spike. You were angry too, but you weren’t about to lash out. You never wanted to fight like this. Not with him.
But when you opened your mouth to respond, Lando’s frustration boiled over.
“God, why can’t you just listen?” His shout echoed off the walls, and you flinched instinctively. It wasn’t that he had hit you—he hadn’t. But the force of his anger, the way his voice shattered the air, made you step back involuntarily.
Lando didn’t see it. His eyes were wild, clouded with rage, and all he could focus on was the argument, the tension, the rush of adrenaline. He didn’t notice how you shrank back, your hand coming up to rub your arm as if protecting yourself from something he couldn’t see.
He didn’t notice the way your eyes flicked down to the floor, as though you were avoiding him entirely. Or the way your posture changed, stiffening as if anticipating something—something you didn’t want to face.
He didn’t see that he had crossed a line, not in the heat of the moment. And when he finally stopped, panting from the intensity of his outburst, it wasn’t the anger that hit him—it was the silence.
You were quiet. Too quiet.
Your eyes didn’t meet his. Your shoulders were tense, stiff, as though you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. And it was in that moment, when you looked at him and immediately turned away, that he realized what he had done.
He hadn’t just shouted. He had frightened you.
Lando’s anger faltered, replaced by a crushing wave of guilt. His heart sank as the realization hit him—he had made you feel small, vulnerable, as if you were in danger. The worst part? He hadn’t even seen it happening. He hadn’t noticed how his fury had seeped into everything, how it had affected you.
He wasn’t used to feeling this way—this... powerless. He was the one who commanded respect, not the other way around. He couldn’t stand the thought that his words, his actions, could make you fear him. But now, as he watched you shrink further into yourself, the shame hit him like a punch to the gut.
After a long silence, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this, Lando. I can’t keep pretending like it’s okay. Every time you yell, every time you get angry, I…”
You stopped yourself, but Lando was already taking steps toward you, his movements slow, careful. He could feel his pulse racing, but now, it wasn’t anger driving him—it was regret.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice soft, pleading.
You didn’t.
“Please,” he tried again, his tone barely above a whisper, his breath coming in shallow gasps as if he were afraid to say the wrong thing. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I never... I would never hurt you.”
You flinched.
The moment the word “hurt” left his lips, you recoiled, your body jerking back, and it hit him like a freight train. The look on your face—the way your eyes widened, the way your body pulled away from him—it was like a slap to his soul.
You were terrified of him. Terrified that he might hurt you.
His chest tightened painfully as the full weight of his mistake crushed down on him. He had always prided himself on being in control, on making sure that no one could threaten him or his empire. But now, in this moment, he saw the one thing he’d never considered: the way his actions could affect you, the one person he had let close to him.
You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were trying to shield your heart from the hurt.
Lando reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you two. But when you flinched again, pulling away even more, it was like a knife through his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” Lando’s voice broke, his breath shaky as he took a step back. “I would never hurt you, Y/N. I swear to you. I never meant for you to feel afraid of me. Please, look at me.”
This time, you did, but only after a long pause. Your eyes were full of hurt, full of confusion. There was a flicker of sadness there, but beneath it all, there was something Lando had never seen before—trust, broken. Shattered.
“You have to believe me,” he whispered, the words almost foreign in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”
You took a long, shaky breath before speaking again, this time quieter, softer. “It’s not just the yelling, Lando. It’s... when you get like that, when I see the anger in your eyes, I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know if you’re going to… hurt me. Physically or emotionally. And I can’t go through that again.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had no idea that his outbursts—his anger—had made you feel like this. He never once thought that you might fear him, that you might think he would ever hurt you the way others had. He had been so blinded by his own anger, by his own pride, that he hadn’t even seen the damage he was causing.
Lando closed his eyes, pain flickering across his features. “You think I’d hurt you?” His voice cracked. “I would never. I would never do that to you, Y/N. I swear on everything I have. You’re safe with me.”
You didn’t respond immediately. The silence was deafening as you stood there, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. The distance between you two was suffocating. Lando took a deep breath, stepping closer again, but this time, he didn’t reach for you. He just stood there, waiting.
“Please,” he said softly. “Please don’t push me away.”
You finally looked up at him, and the tear that slipped down your cheek shattered the last of his composure. You weren’t afraid of him anymore. You were hurt, yes. Disappointed, yes. But fear? That wasn’t the look in your eyes anymore.
It was sadness. Regret. A need for him to prove that he would never hurt you again.
He reached out, more carefully this time, and you didn’t pull away. Slowly, ever so slowly, he closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice filled with sincerity. “I never want to be the one who makes you feel that way. I never want to hurt you. Please believe me.”
And in that moment, with your tear-streaked face and your guarded posture, Lando knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But he was willing to do whatever it took to rebuild the trust he had shattered, to show you that he would never, ever be the kind of man who would hurt you.
Not now. Not ever.
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Thank you for reading!
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