#this has to be one of the worst male leads i have ever seen
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lurkingshan · 6 months ago
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Finally hunted down and watched City Hunter after years of waiting in vain for it to come back to a streaming service. I gotta say, this is not the first time I’ve watched a classic drama that is inexplicably beloved despite being offensive trash, but it’s definitely one of the most egregious examples. I will be rewatching Healer to cleanse myself.
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teenidlegirl · 4 months ago
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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓕eel 𝓨our 𝓗eartlines ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ vaquero!miguel 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. your family bought a new ranch next door to the o’haras. both families grew acquainted with each other. you and the eldest o’hara brother grow an interesting bond which lead to something more but your father isn’t necessarily fond of.
ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. rancho!au, neighbors/enemies to lovers, forbidden love, fluff, angst, drama, tension, arguments, jealousy, smut, protected sex (yessir), fingering, truck sex, swearing, pet names, happy ending, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )
ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. this is probably one of best fics i’ve written imo. holy shit the creative flow was flowing with this, lowkey proud of it. this is most definitely one of my favorites.
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new start at a new home.
your parents bought a new ranch after selling the old one. it’s been in your family for generations but the time has come for a new home. however, there’s another ranch property next door.
the o’hara ranch.
rumored to be a woman and her two sons. according to your parents, they weren’t opposed to have another ranch near their property. in fact, thrilled to have neighbors. that ranch your parents bought hasn’t occupied in a few years.
the opportunity to meet them is the day you move.
the radiate sun was your enemy. the humid air made the move unbearable. a layer on sweat glistening over your skin from walking back and forth carrying boxes. summer is the worst time to move.
one particular box was a bit heavier than the previous ones you carried. your hand fails to grip it from underneath, causing it to slip out of your hands before another pair of hands catch it in time.
“i got it.”
a rich, baritone voice makes you look up to who it belongs to. your eyes dilate immensely.
a man who towers over you to a insane level. way too tall for the average male. thick brows with a pair of brown eyes. sharpest cheekbones you’ve ever seen on a man, so sharp you’ll get a paper cut if you drag your finger over it. and last, a set of very plump lips.
ay dios, he is handsome.
“cuiadado con eso.”
carlos, your older brother, walks by. “ay tonta, i told you i’ll get it pero no haces caso. gracias, miguel.” he turns to the man standing in from of you.
oh that’s his name.
you just roll your eyes at your brother. face turned to the said to conceal your embarrassment and frustration. cheeks slightly flushed.
“todo bien, carlos. i manage to catch it in time before miss manos de trapo here dropped it.” miguel chuckles, shooting a glance at you for emphasis.
your mouth dropped in offense and he smirks.
what an ass.
well yes, you were dumb to believe you could carry that damn box and should’ve waited for carlos to come get it. you were being stubborn but also trying to help as much as possible.
both men laugh at your reaction.
“cabrones.” you grumble, looking off to the side.
“cuiadao, hermana. don’t be mean to our neighbor.” carlos teases, nudging your shoulder.
you figured this man, miguel, is your neighbor. one of the o’hara brothers. one of the sons.
“well, i don’t think i’m the mean one when he’s talking shit about me with my brother.” you deadpan.
that elicits a chuckle from the said man. “ay chiquita, i’m not being mean. just stating the truth.” a teasing smirk graces his lips.
“no me llamas eso, cabrón.” you glare up at him.
the smirk grew wider. you want to slap it off.
“oh okay! lets get a move on, vale?” carlos clears his throat, sensing the tensions between you and miguel. clearly he didn’t expect this.
you walk away in a sassy manner, not sparing one last glance at your asshole neighbor. what you don’t see is him watching as you leave. brown eyes following your figure before he heads inside the house to put the big box away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
it’s been a few weeks since you settled into the new ranch. you’ve grown to adore it. decorating your room was your favorite part. throughout those few weeks, you and your family quickly accustomed.
the only thing you weren’t accustomed to was the weekly visits from your neighbors. your dad, brother and the o’hara brothers been working together with both ranches. your mom and their mom, conchata, have grown to be friends. you don’t mind conchata or gabriel, the younger o’hara brother. the woman seems very nice and caring. she adores her two boys with all her heart. very determined and resilient woman. her husband died when the boys were young so she raised them on her own since. an admirable woman. gabriel is such a sweetheart, completely different from miguel. you first met him and he was very polite but also a big flirt. you like him more.
miguel, the o’hara sibling you dislike. ever since he started working with your dad and brother, you practically see him everyday. his large frame catching your eye form the window or porch. luckily, there hasn’t been many encounters other than quickly glances and smirks. he’s too busy working to talk to you and you prefer it that way.
however, you can’t deny observing him from afar as he worked outside. always wearing a pair of blue jeans con sus botas. switches between black, white or gray shirts that hug his muscles a little too tight. so tight you can see the outline of his abs. so tight on the sleeves his biceps are on display, those hairy muscular arms. flexing whenever he grabs or works on something. you’ve noticed la virgencita hanging around his neck when he passed by you at the ranch one day. he also wears either black or tan hat. when he takes it off, those messy brown curls are revealed. you bite your lip when he runs a hand through those curls then quietly curse to yourself when you catch yourself in the act. you hate him, not like him.
seeing that stupid smirk on his face when he notices you makes your body ignite on fire. brows furrowed and hands balled into fists while your heart beats like crazy. his entire existence makes your skin crawl. you’ve only met the guy for a few weeks and you despise him. he drives you fucking insane.
why do you wear the cutest outfits when he’s there? why do you apply extra perfume when he’s there? why do you check your breath a million times when he’s there? why do you keep doing these things?
he’s driving you fucking crazy.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
as you exit your room and step foot into the kitchen, your mother asks if you’ll take fresh lemonade for the men. part of your wanted to rip your hair out because you know you’ll run into miguel. as the obedient girl you are and know not to argue with your mother, you make the lemonade and take it outside.
carrying the tray of four lemonades, you walk over to the ranch. as you approach the table, you notice miguel at the stables from across. you were lost in trance as he maneuvered with the horse he was dealing with. quickly blinking, you snap out of it and place down the tray of lemonade. the family dog lola, a german shepherd, comes to your side. you happily pet her, smiling her happy face and wagging tail.
“nice to see you again, chiquita.”
the smile on your face vanishes and is replaced with a irritated look. slowly turning around, you see miguel standing in the opposite side of the table.
damn how the fuck did he get here so fast? he was literally just at the stables a few seconds ago.
“i said don’t call me that, cabrón.” you scowl.
“ay no hagas asi, hermosa. you love it when i call you that.” the bastard smirks as he drinks his lemonade.
“you’re so fucking annoying.” you spit. “rude and never listens. i applaud your mother for putting up with your stupidity.” you look away, arms crossed.
you don’t see his smirk falters a little. “hermosa, i’m not being rude or trying to be. it’s just teasing.” he sound a bit serious but you don’t buy it.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes. “vamos, lola.” you tap your thigh to signal her to follow you back to the house, which she did with her tail wagging happily.
a pair of brown eyes follow you, watching you leave. you fail to see the slight slump on his shoulders. miguel sighs before taking a another sip of the delicious lemon then heads off to join the others.
you and miguel both fail to see a third set of eyes form afar. a light, skeptical frown settles on your dad’s face as he witnessed the interaction. he can sense the tension and it didn’t sit right with him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
one evening, your parents decide to host a carne asada for family and friends. that also means the o’haras were invited, meaning miguel was invited.
oh you wanted to die.
but family members and friends would be there so you’ll be distracted with them. as long as you stay away from miguel, you’ll be fine.
after a fresh long shower, you wear a cute gingham dress con tus botas blancos. you add a few small white bow clips in your hair as accessories to feel more cute. makeup and hair done.
the background is filled with people, relatives and friends. loud music playing from the speaker. food on the table ready to be served. oh the delicious smell consumes your senses, making your tummy growl. you grab yourself a plate of food then venture off to meet up with your cousins. it’s been a while since you’ve seen them so you wanna catch up.
after finishing your food, “la chona” starts playing and everyone goes berserk. once you throw away your empty plate, you and your cousins rush to the dance floor along with everyone else and dance.
while dancing, a young man approaches you with a gentle smile. he’s introduced as javier, son of one of your father’s friends. tall, dark brunette, quite fit but not too much, sweet and handsome. you two dance together as you talk and occasionally flirt. apparently, he’s a comedian because he’s been making you laugh every time he tells a joke or funny stories.
what you fail to notice from afar is a pair of brown angry eyes. watching your every move the entire evening. miguel never took his eyes off of you, only when someone was speaking directly to him. the minute you stepped foot into the backyard, his pupils dilated and heart raced in his chest. how gorgeous you look that cute dress and tus botas. watching you dance for a bit finally gave him the courage to join you until that idiot waltzed in. his grip on his moledo tightened when javier wraps an arm around your waist and pull you closer towards him. his grip was so tight, miguel almost broke it in his fucking hand. a sting of jealousy and slight possessiveness bubbles in his chest. a huge frown on his face. oh he is pissed the fuck off. he didn’t like this encounter one bit.
after drinking lots of water and jamaica (drink), nature calls. quickly telling javier you’ll be back, you make a beeline for the house then the bathroom upstairs. luckily, no one’s in the house so it’s empty inside. after doing your business and washing your hands, you fix your appearance. detangling your hair and patting down any creases on your dress.
a subtle knock on the door makes you jump a little. “just give me a minute!” you call out nervously.
it truly caught you off guard. there’s a bathroom downstairs but perhaps it’s occupied too. there’s the master bathroom but supposed people don’t want to invade your parents’ privacy.
you finish fixing your appearance so the next person doesn’t have to keep waiting. just as you unlock and open the door, a gasp left your lips.
“miguel? what the fuck?”
the man stands before you. however, his sour expression captures your attention. you don’t have time to say anything else when he silently enters the bathroom, causing you to step back. he close the door behind him, his gaze never leaves yours. anxiety consumes your body at the sudden proximity. the hallway bathroom is quite small, leaving barely any room left for you to step back.
“miguel, what the fuck are you doing?”
“you seem having fun tonight.”
your brows furrowed. “it’s a party, of course i’m having fun.” you cross your arms.
“a little too much fun.” he takes one step closer.
“the fuck are you talking about?”
“ese pinche huevón who’s been probably telling you shitty jokes or whatever.” he takes another step.
javier. why the hell is he talking about him?
“you’re spying on me?! what the fuck, miguel? what’s wrong with you? what’s your problem?”
“my problem?” miguel’s frown deepens. “that fucking idiot had the fucking nerve to come up to you, dance and flirt with you like that.” he takes a step closer with each phrase.
you flinch when your back hits the wall. now miguel stands right in front of you. bodies merely touching, barely any space between you two. his hot breath hitting your face, or forehead due to the height difference. you have to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his gazes. your heart pounds in anticipation, lashes fluttering.
holy shit, he’s jealous.
“so you’re telling you have a thing for me this entire and decided to wait until i was with another guy?” you were half assumed and surprised.
his pissed off demeanor falters a little, softening up a bit. “y-yes…” miguel admits shamelessly, broad shoulders slumped a little. “i wanted to tell you but you hate me so much and refused to talk to me so i didn’t really have the perfect chance.”
you huff, shaking your head. “of course i hate you because you’re a fucking asshole. always throwing smartass remarks or insults at me.”
“i wasn’t insulting you, or at least i wasn’t my intention.” miguel frowns. “i was teasing because i like you, chiquita.” he said softly.
oh your heart did a summersault.
“seriously?” you were surprised wholeheartedly.
miguel scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile. “que si, tonta. i’ve liked you since the moment i met you, catching that big box you almost dropped.”
you cringe at the memory. if only you knew how stupid you looked carrying that big ass heavy box. if only you knew he was watching.
“and i know you like me too.” miguel leans closer.
“it’s a mixture of infatuation and hatred.”
“see, infatuation.” he smirks smugly.
“don’t push it, cabrón.” you glare at him.
miguel lowly chuckles, amused by your sassy attitude. his eyes drop to your lips. glossy and begging for his. “do you know how many times i wanted to kiss those pretty lips but knew i couldn’t?”
your heart flutter at that confession. you wanted to say the same about his lips or wished he did kiss you but you decide to tease him.
“that’s too bad you couldn’t.” you fake pout, tilting your head in a teasing manner. “i was thinking the same with javi.” a smirk graces your lips.
you watch his brows furrowed immediately. that seductive look replaced with a pissed off one. his jaw clenches at the name of that guy.
damn, jealous looks so good on him.
“he’s so sweet and very attractive. a great dancer and has very kissable lips.” your smirk grows smugly.
there was no time to reaction when miguel grabs the back of your head, pulls you against him and smashes his lips on yours. you can’t resist smiling at his eagerness as you both endure in a messy makeout session. his lips devour yours with such hunger, basically eating your face off.
your arms reach up to his shoulders and wrap around them, standing on your tippy toes due to the height difference. miguel’s back is slightly bent so he can reach you but doesn’t give a shit if it hurts. both his hands travel down to your waist and pull you closer so there isn’t any space left between you two.
broad hands roam over your back, groping each curve. you melt under his addictive touch, becoming putty in his hold. you gasp when he lifts you up in his arms, grabbing the back of your thighs. your grip on his shoulders tighten instinctively. miguel plants you on the sink and settles himself in between your legs.
his lips trail down to your jawline then in the crook of your neck. you dig your fingers into his brown curls while the other hand wrapped around his thick neck. your eyes closed, relishing those kisses on your neck. a gasp left your lips when you feel his lips sucking that sensitive spot on your neck.
his hands fiddle with the top strings of your dress that conceals your breasts. after leaving a mark on your neck, which he smiles satisfyingly at, miguel trails down to your chest. he quickly glances at you for approval and you eagerly nod. untying the strings, miguel dives into your cleavage. leaving hot open-mouth kisses on the soft skin. his hands cupping and kneading your breasts. a soft moan escapes your lips at the sensation. throwing your head back, resting against the mirror. you take off his hat so you can play with his hair, tossing it on the toilet seat. he kisses, licks, and kneads your covered breasts with such desire and affection. he lets out a muffled groan when your fingers tug on his hair.
miguel moves down your body, leaving a trail of adoring kisses on the fabric of your dress. grinning at how your body sweetly responds to him. just as he reaches down to the one place where you desperately want him, he moves away and stands up.
“aww…” miguel mischievously chuckles at your pout and pissed off expression. “you thought you’d get what you want, huh bebita?” he brings a hand to your chin and lightly tilts it upward to meet his eyes.
“asshole.” you scowl, swatting his hand away.
“ay bebita, no hagas asi.” he taunts with a head tilt. “you were drooling about that huevón a few seconds ago. don’t you want him?”
you glare at him and he laughs, completely unbothered by it. oh you want to slap that stupid smirk off his devilish handsome face.
“es la verdad, hermosa. don’t you want him here instead of me?” his fingers lightly brush against your exposed thigh, sending jolts of excitement through your body. the hem of your dress scrunched up a bit.
you know he knows the answer. of course he’s fucking teasing you about this.
“i’m going to rip your balls off.” you threaten.
the bastard chuckles. “i don’t think you wanna do that if you want me.” very slowly, his fingers trail up your thigh, more towards your inner thigh. he chuckles again when your legs twitch at his touch.
“fine, fuck this shit.” you move to jump off the counter but his hands firmly hold you in place.
“ay bebita, you’re so stubborn.” miguel coos, gently tracing your cheek with the back of his index finger. “i’ll give you what you want—“
“ay no me jodas, miguel! just fucking touch me.” grabbing the back of his neck, you yank him towards you and smash your lips on his.
the movement caught him by surprise but indulges in it. his fingers trail up your inner thigh, sliding under your dress. you softly gasp when you feel his fingers gently rubbing your cunt through your panties.
“fuck— estas mojada, bebita.” miguel groans at the feeling of your soaked panties, all because of him. the pad of his fingers rubbing your covered pussy lips. he feels himself grow hard in his jeans.
his fingers slyly slide under your panties and play with your little cunt. a soft moan leaves your lips when he rubs your throbbing clit. fingers rubbing and flicking almost experimentally.
“you want me?” he whispers against your lips as his continues playing with your clit.
“fuck, yes~” you moan, cupping his face.
your lips collided again in a heated kiss as miguel slowly slides in two fingers in your pretty little pussy. you moan a bit louder in pitch at the sensitive before his other hand covers your mouth.
“as much as i want to hear those pretty sounds, can’t let anyone hear.” miguel whispers, a mix of seductiveness and sincerity. the last thing he wants is getting caught in your house.
he pumps his fingers at a slow pace. endless moans falling from your lips but muffled. fuck his fingers are so thick and long. they feel so fucking good.
“fuck, so tight, bebita.” he groans when your walls clench around his fingers. “driving me fucking insane, how you clench around my fingers like that.”
his fingers soon pick up pace. thrusting in and out of your tight cunt. instinctively, you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. desperate for more. miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck as he continues fingering you. you have one arm wrapped around his shoulders while leaning on the other, gripping the ledge of the counter for dear life.
you squeal when his thumb flickers your puffy clit as his two fingers continue pumping into you. your walls clench harder around his fingers.
“you’re gonna forget about that pinche huevón and think about me, si hermosa?” he asks, lips against your ear. “porque you want me, verdad? because i want you.” he states wholeheartedly.
you nod while being a babbling and moaning mess. miguel leaves kisses on your neck as he keeps pumping his fingers into you. with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a muffed moan. gushing over his fingers, coating them in your sweetness.
very slowly, he slides out his fingers from your now sensitive pussy. you lean back against the mirror as you try catching your breath and recover from your high but his hand on your waist prevents you from slumping completely. miguel examines his two fingers glistening in your sweet nectar. two clear strings connect between them as he spreads them apart. he brings them up to his lips, licking off your sweetness. a moan of satisfaction.
“sweet, just like i imagined.” he hums contently.
grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper, miguel gently cleans up the mess in between your thighs.
“you okay?” he asks sincerely, tossing the toilet paper in the trash while his free hand gently moves away strings of hair from your face.
“yeah, never better.” you let out a weak laugh.
miguel smiles at your cute little laugh then gently kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your thigh.
a ding! from your phone breaks the kiss. grabbing it next to you and looking at the screen, you see a text from your mom asking your whereabouts.
“gotta go before my mom flips out.” you chuckle.
“understandable.” miguel chuckles with you as he gently lifts you off the counter by the waist and carefully sets you on your feet.
you quickly glance down at your phone then at the huge bulge in his jeans. “sorry…” you shoot him an apologetic look.
miguel shakes his head with a soft smile. “no te procupes, bebita. maybe next time.” he winks as he helps you fix your dress.
you swat his arm and he laughs as you both exit the bathroom to rejoin the party.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
a forbidden romance between you and miguel blossomed. however, there were suspicions. conchata knew the minute she caught miguel staring at you from afar numerous times. it makes her smile to see her son falling in love. she knows you’re a good woman and treats you like her own. you’re perfect for her son. gabriel knows as well, he has seen the intense encounters between you and miguel. arguing and brickering but also longing gazes when one isn’t looking. he would give miguel shit and tease him all the time. suppose all that teasing finally paid off.
your mom is like conchata and every other mother. adored to see her daughter falling in love despite the tension between you and miguel. carlos was skeptical at first but accepts it because he knows miguel is a good man. your father, on the other hand, isn’t too thrilled of the idea. it’s not that miguel isn’t a good person but because he’s a known womanizer. your dad has seen the various women swinging by miguel, flirting and battering their lashes at him. he doesn’t want you to fall victim into lies. that’s why he’s been a bit harsh towards miguel lately.
although you’re unaware of everyone’s suspicions, you and miguel keep it very secretive. sneaking off to secluded places like the stables. have heavy makeout sessions, miguel fingering you. unfortunately, things couldn’t get spicer without almost getting caught or someone calling your name.
one day when your parents were gone into town, miguel sneaked you into his truck. he parked in a secluded area on the outskirts of the ranch.
“miguel, we can’t do this. what if they’re looking for us?” you can’t resist giggling as his lips leave butterfly kisses along your neck. you sit on his lap, straddling him in the backseat of his truck. both of you shirtless, you remain in your bra.
“your parents are out and won’t be back for a while. besides, gabriel and carlos got us covered.” his large hands roam over your body.
“miguel!” you swat his shoulder, giggling.
“¿que paso, bebita? they’ll let us know when your parents come back, lo prometo.” he continues those kisses among your neck.
you sigh softly, trusting him with your heart. you grow putty in his hold like always. his large lands roaming your body. your lips meet in a passionate kiss. your hands cupping his face. the tips of his fingers fiddle with the hem of your white skirt. you assume he wants to do the usual but the pleading look in those browns eyes say otherwise.
“do you… do you wanna do this?” he asks anxiously, eyes boring into yours.
you know immediately what he’s asking.
“yes.” you nod sincerely, caressing his cheeks.
“are you sure? i don’t wanna pressure you.”
your heart melts at his caring words. “si, bebito. i trust you and i want this.” you wrap your arms around his thick neck. “i want you.”
fuck. that’s all he needs to hear before worshipping the goddess you are. miguel captures your lips in another kiss. his fingers slide underneath your skirt not only to make you cum first but also to prep you.
after making you cum over his fingers twice, you were prepped enough. miguel hurriedly reaches a hand in his front pocket and pulls out a condom. he rips the tiny packet with his teeth. the sight makes you bite your lip. you follow suit by lifting up your skirt as he yanks out his aching cock from its confinements. the tip angry and red, desperate to be inside you. he rolls the condom over his cock. a shared moan mingles in the air as you slowly sink onto his cock. you grip tightly on his shoulders as support. his own gripping your hips.
“breathe, bebita.” he advises in a soft tone.
fuck he’s so big. when you first got a glimpse of it, you believed it was impossible for it to fit. of course it’ll be hard to take him. his soothing rubs on your thighs relaxes you a little as you try adjusting to his size. any “stop” or “wait” convinced him to pull out but you told him. just need time to adjust.
once you had time to adjust, you couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeing of being utterly full. he’s so deep inside, you can feel him in your tummy.
you both moan in unison as you slowly roll your hips. you move up and down in a slow pace, riding his cock. fuck he feels so amazing.
“fuck— asi, bebita. ride me.” he praises so sweetly.
you oblige, riding him. you didn’t save a horse but you’ll definitely ride a cowboy.
miguel soon picks up the pace due to your pleading for him to go faster. rolling his hips to meet yours. hands gripping your hips, your skirt brunched up in his fingers as his cock pounds into your tight little cunt. moans and groans mingles in the steamy air. the windows begin to fog up. miguel throws his head back against the seat, relishing the feeling of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. he’s practically going insane at the sensation.
self-resistance flies out the window as miguel quickly turns you both over. you lie down on the seat and he hovers above you as miguel continues thrusting into you. your hands grip onto his back, nails leaving scratch marks and crescent indents, eliciting a groan from the man above you. miguel doesn’t give a shit. in fact, he loves the idea of seeing your scratch marks when looking at his reflection. it’s a reminder of you and your love for him.
due to his rough thrusts, the truck shakes. luckily, the area is secluded. miguel groans when your fluttering walls clench around his thick length.
“shit— you clenching like that is driving me insane, bebita.” miguel moans.
you can’t even response since you’re a babbling mess underneath him. the bulbous tip of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix, making you arch your back off the seat like waves.
miguel can’t help but smirk at your trembling form. brows scrunched up and mouth letting out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. a literal angel underneath him. one hand reaches down in between your bodies and flickers your puffy clit. you let out a squeal at the sudden sensation, arching your back off the seat for the millionth time.
“let go, mi vida. i got you.” he coos in your ear.
with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a loud cry of his name. coating his condom covered cock with your sweetness. oh that sight is forever imbedded in his mind. how beautifully you sang out his name as you each the pinnacle of ecstasy.
miguel soon followed suit. his hips stutter before letting out a groan as he releases thick hot ropes of cum into the condom. secretly wishing it was your pussy but protection comes first. his thrusts slow down, riding out both your highs before stopping. he buries his face beside yours, panting against your ear as you both recover from your highs.
after a few minutes of recovery, miguel lifts up onto his elbows and looks down at you. “you okay? did i hurt you?” he voice his concerns, gently moving away strings of hair sticked to your forehead.
“no.” you shake your head. “i’m okay.”
he softly smiles at your answer. worries washed away. leaning closer, miguel captures your lips in soft, gentle kiss. “té quiero.”
“té quiero.” you softly smile at him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
your parents decide to head to town again to buy some stuff. carlos left to meet up with some chick he met at a bailé the other night. that means you’re left alone, which also means miguel comes over.
you both makeout on your bed. hands roaming each other’s bodies. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you feel his lips pepper your neck with kisses, playing with his hair. that’s going to be the hundredth hickey he has left on you. the amount of concealer you applied on the dark mark so your family doesn’t notice says a lot. neck, breasts, inner thighs. marking you endlessly and making you feel like a dalmatian.
“que linda eres.” miguel mumbled against your soft skin, lips peppering adoring kisses.
a gasp leaves your lips as you feel large hands squeezing your breasts. “miguel~ my parents will be back soon.” you whine then followed by a giggle, tugging on his curls to gain his attention.
“the marketplace is packed. they’ll be gone for a while so we have time.” he kisses your worries away.
you softly sigh as miguel travels down to your breasts and makes out with them. calloused hands kneading them through your dress.
“my favorite pillows.” miguel mumbled between kisses and licks on the soft mounds. his fingers spread the opening of the top of your dress to gain more access to your cleavage.
“you act like they don’t hurt because of your big ass head.” you deadpan, still playing with his hair.
“well, that’s why i massage them.”
you can’t see him from this angle but you know he has the biggest smirk on his face. the thought makes you lightly slap his head, earning a chuckle from him.
those adoring kisses trail down to your tummy then back up your body towards your face before your lips collide once again. as his hand slwoly trails down towards your inner thigh, scrunching up the hem of your dress, the sound of the door opening cause you both to jump in surprised. miguel hurriedly lifts off from the bed. your eyes land at the opened door to find your parents with shocked expressions. your father face is red of anger, profoundly pissed off.
“te mato.” he glares towards miguel. fists fidgeting at his sides but never makes a move.
“papá, pro favor—“
“no me hablas.” he points a finger at you, sending the same glare then looks back at miguel. “i trusted you with this ranch. with this home and you betrayed that with taking an advantage con mi hija.”
“papá, no! please—“
“señor, i’ve never took advantage of your daughter or your trust. i respect and love your daughter with everything.” miguel defends himself.
you watch your father’s eyes narrow at miguel’s words. “you don’t truly love my daughter if you allow other women to chase after you.”
both yours and miguel’s heart drop at that accusation. anxiety invades your body. you whip your head at miguel with a shocking expression. he meets your gaze with the same expression but also a look of hurt. your heart breaks at the sight. you know it isn’t true but your heart says otherwise.
miguel looks at you with remorseful eyes then looks back at your father. “pro favor, señor. none of those rumors are true. i walk away from those women, they never leave me alone. the only woman i want is your daughter.” he states sincerely.
a pregnant pause fills the room. the tension lingers in the air. you watch as your father exhales heavily then takes a step towards miguel.
“you’re banned from this house and ranch.” he states through gritted teeth. “and you’re banned from speaking to my daughter. if i ever catch you near her, té mato. entiendes?”
miguel briefly looks down with a frown. shoulders slumped in defeat and frustration. much to your and his dismay, he agrees with a nod. your heart breaks, tears swelling in your eyes. grabbing his hat from the bed, miguel shoots a brief sad glance at you before exiting your bedroom, walking past your parents.
“y tú…” your father turns to you. “you don’t leave this house.” and with that, he walks away.
you collapse on the floor and break down into tears. the wall broke and the waterfall fell. your mother swiftly comes to your aid and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace. you weep into her shoulder as you cry out your broken heart.
two hearts broke that day.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
she knew something happened.
the minute her eldest stepped foot into the house and stomped his way upstairs to his room without greeting her meant something was wrong. conchata knows her children well like most mothers do. she has her assumptions but rather know the truth.
with a sigh, she placed down the knife and heads upstairs to consult with her eldest son. she leaves a subtle knock on the door.
“mijo? estas bien?” she knew he wasn’t but she hopes he’ll allow her entry.
no answer.
she frowns but her concern increases. “mijo, if there’s something wrong, you can tell me.”
footsteps past by behind her. turning around, she sees her youngest walking by.
“do you know what’s wrong con tú hermano?”
he shakes his head. “no, he walked passed me at the ranch without saying anything.”
she frowns once again as gabriel heads towards the bathroom. glancing back at the door, she lets out another sad sigh before walking away.
later that evening, miguel finally makes his appearance. as she prepares the table with food, conchata noticed her son walking in.
“mijo, qué paso? did something happen?”
he remains silent but helps her with preparing the table. his face lacks of emotion, or at least lacks of his normal content self. mouth flat and tired eyes.
“miguel, por favor, dijeme.” the woman pleads. “is this about her?”
now he finally speaks.
“i’m banned from their ranch.”
conchata’s heart stops for a moment. “banned? como?” she sounds in disbelief but also concern.
his head hangs low, refusing to meet her gaze. “su papá doesn’t approve of me.”
now she feels heart drop. “doesn’t approve you? como que he doesn’t approve my son? you’ve worked so hard helping him at his ranch. he has lost his damn mind ese pinche cabrón.”
“he doesn’t approve me para su hija!”
now conchata is speechless but still in disbelief. “pero… you like each other…”
“pues el no le gusta porque he thinks i flirt with lots of women and believes i took an advantage of his daughter. believes i don’t love her.”
fury boils in her blood for your father to say such vile things about her son. but also heartbroken to see miguel so upset. she’s aware of his unpleasant encounters with idiot women so throw themselves at him, making him feel uncomfortable. it makes her want to give putasos con la chancla for bothering her son. she also feels for you too. understanding the dealing with heartbreak. of course someone gets in the way of true love. always a misunderstanding.
“ese cabrón knows nothing of my son.” she states firmly. “i know my own son and he’s nothing like those pinches mentiras. you’re a good man and have a good heart. i know you love her and she loves you. as much as i want to go beat that man con la chancla,” that elicits a chuckle from miguel. “i don’t want bloodshed between families because they’re good people and have been kind to us.”
the tension eases a bit on his shoulders. pleased to hear his mother’s supportive words.
“i know heartbreak isn’t easy, mijo… pero she’s a smart girl and she, and su mamá, will talk some sense into that man. it may take some time but don’t give up hope, her.” she gently takes his hands in hers.
the corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile. “yo sé, gracias mamá.” he pulls her into an embrace.
“siempre, mijo.” she hugs him back.
miguel wasn’t giving up on you. no, never. all he wants in his life is you. he’s willing to do whatever it takes to show his love for you. hoping it’ll change your father’s mind about your relationship.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
you don’t even know what day it is. you’ve been cooped up in your room since you’re not allow to leave the house. each day has been filled with tears and anger. tears stains on your pillows are proof of the heartbreak. your mom had to change them twice because of your mascara stains on them. anger boiling in your veins. pissed off at your father’s insane behavior about this shitshow. your mom and carlos have been comforting you. your mom soothing your broken heart with hugs and forehead kisses. carlos also gives hugs and tells his stupid ass jokes.
your father hasn’t spared a glance at you since the argument, as if you don’t exist. it hurts since you’ve always been his little girl. it hurts he disrespected miguel with those hurtful lies. it hurts he stripped your experience of love away from you.
besides moping and crying, the only things keeping you occupied is watching tv, scroll on your phone, draw or paint, listen to music, and sleep. your dad really meant not leaving the house because you can’t even visit the stables to greet the horses. your only source of happiness during this period of misery and imprisonment is lola. she’ll join you on the bed when you take naps. play with her, tossing toys at her.
it’s just been so fucking miserable.
the only chance you’ll get to see miguel is whenever he’s outside. you sit by your window and observe him working on his family ranch. you know he knows you’re watching him. god you miss him so fucking much. his kisses, his hugs, his voice, his hands.
you can’t text or call him since your dad deleted his contact off your phone when you left your phone in room behind when you visited the kitchen one day. at least he didn’t delete gabriel’s so you had some type of method to keep in contact with miguel. you’ll text gabriel, asking how his brother is doing. upset and frustrated were what you were expecting.
the love of your life stripped away from your heart by the hands of your father. how fucking sad that is.
you want to make him understand but the man is stubborn as hell and believes his opinion is the only relevant opinion. you understand your mom’s frustration with your dad after years of marriage.
you need to make him understand.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
your growling tummy sends you downstairs to retrieve a snack. heading for the kitchen, you see your parents talking. your mom preparing for tonight’s dinner while your dad drinks a glass of water. he must’ve returned from the ranch.
a wave of determination courses through your veins. you’re fed up with this nonsense and imprisonment. he has to respect your wishes and life. although you’re his youngest and only daughter, you’re a grown woman. you have your own goals, wishes, desires for your life. he can’t strip that away from you. this is your life and he needs to understand.
“papá.” you stand near the kitchen island.
the man turns around and sees you. a frown settles on his face. “¿qué quieres?”
your fists tightened. “this needs to stop.”
his frown deepens. “ya te dije que no.”
“this is ridiculous!” you exclaim with your hands in the air. “you can’t ground me for falling in love! especially with someone who’s a good person!”
“he is not a good person.” he sets the now empty glass of water down on the counter with a bit of aggressiveness. luckily it didn’t break. “ese huevón flirts with a bunch of women behind your back. you can’t love someone if they lie to you.”
“he doesn’t flirt with them, papá! those women flirt with him!” you cry, making him go silent. “they throw themselves at him and it makes him uncomfortable. women twice his age! he tries to be polite and tell them he’s not interested. he already told me about this.” a thin layer of tears forms up in your eyes. “he said he’ll never betray me, never break my heart because he loves me, papí.”
your father only remained speechless. your mother too, who stopped cooking since you spoke.
“being with miguel, i’ve never been so happy. he makes me so happy.” you smile sadly. “yours and mom’s relationship is what i’ve been seeking for. being together for many years, spending the rest of your lives together. i found that with miguel. he’s the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.”
a sorrowful look in his eyes. your mom is on the verge of tears, happy tears of course. she couldn’t be more proud of you, defending yourself and miguel.
“please don’t take that away from me.”
the crack in your voice makes him wince. the anger now vanished, replaced with sorrow and regret. seeing his little girl on the verge of tears breaks his heart into a million pieces like any other parent.
“i… lo siento, mi cielo.” he covers his mouth with a hand. sighing as regret plagues his body. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean…” the next few words died when he feels you arms around his body, embracing him.
“yo sé, papí. yo sé.” you whisper.
he accepts your embrace, not wasting a second. “i was just protecting you from heartbreak. i couldn’t bare to you see like that.”
“i know.” you sniffed, smiling a little.
“but i was wrong about him… ay dios, all those things i said. now what you told me…”
“he’ll forgive you.” you pull away, softly smiling. “miguel knows you were protecting me.”
he nods sadly. “still, i need to apologize to him. lo siento mucho, mija.”
“it’s okay, papí. thank you.” you hug him one last time before your mothers joins you both.
it was going to be okay.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
your father apologized to miguel. he immediately accepted because he understood your father’s reasons. the apology concluded with a hand shake before your dad pulls miguel into an embrace. everyone was pleased the shitshow was over. conchata also accepted your father’s apology. no bloodshed was made. just two happy families.
the words “son-in-law” accidentally slipped through your dad’s lips and it made you and miguel flustered a little. it was pleasing to know your dad was envisioning a future of the family including miguel.
afterwards, you and miguel finally pursue this relationship without fear. opened to the world.
riding in his truck, you drive to the beach. windows down and the hot summer breeze flowing through your hair. parked in the same secluded spot from previous times, you and miguel share a little intimate moment. lips connected in a passionate kiss.
with one final kiss, miguel sucking your bottom lip, he slowly pulls away to admire you. eyes filled with adoration, simply and only for you.
“té quiero tanto, mi alma.”
you softly smile. “té quiero tanto, mi vaquero.”
little did you know five years later you and miguel would have a ranch and family of your own. a daughter who’s an exact replica of her father. like your parents, you and miguel spend the rest of your lives together. like true soulmates.
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© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
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In Love and War Pt II
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Summary: Warlord!Rhys takes his mate back to his mountain camp and Tamlin's!sister!Reader has to decide the best way to try and escape
Content Warnings: Morally Grey!Rhys, talks of violence
Part I
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We ride for hours. The first two riders I’d seen join us after the first; they too have wings, tucked tight against their backs. Under different circumstances, I might be tempted to ask why they bothered with horses at all when they can simply fly, but thought better of it. The less I learn about them the better. All the easier to keep them in my mind as some faceless evil so I feel a little less guilty about putting an arrow in their eye when I escape. Rhysand has foolishly left me with my weapons, I'll put that mistake to good use when the time is right. 
By the third hour, we’ve left the bog and the forest behind, riding through what was once a sprawling plain but is now nothing but weeds. There is no magic left to keep this place fertile and thriving. Hybern’s Cauldron backed powers have stripped most of the land of its power, leaving ruin and famine behind in its wake. Little has managed to grow since, he’s been using the Cauldron to make sure a majority of the crops grow in his fields, where his slaves can tend them and ensure he gets the bulk of the harvest. There's nowhere to run out here.
Especially not when the rest of the riders regroup. There are twelve of them in total, all falling behind my captor as his great, midnight black stead takes the lead. 
I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, could not afford to keep one, but the ones that I had, back in my youth, had never been this graceful. Even with my added weight the horse gallops like it has wings, swift as the wind, its blue-black mane trailing gracefully behind it. I almost don’t mind the ride, minus the circumstance and company, as the sun begins to set ahead of us, the sky a symphony of purple, orange and pink.
Eventually, we come to a river, flowing with large chunks of ice from a not yet frozen ice flow further upstream, where they stop to water their mounts. 
My captor dismounts first, large, gloved hands gripping my waist to help me down. By the Mother, his hands are so large against my hips! I’m suddenly very aware of my own size. 
“Don’t try and run,” he warns.
I glance around to my lack of escape routes and roll my eyes. “Darn, I was planning on throwing myself into the river.”
One of the others, the male I’d spotted first I think, snorts beneath his hood. 
Rhysand grunts out a warning before leading his horse to drink and filling a canteen he had tucked in his saddle bag. His back is, foolishly to me, I could easily draw my knife and stab him right here, but a quick glance around tells me that really would end with me taking a trip down the river. All his men carry swords and knives and there’s one with a wicked looking dagger strapped to his thigh; I barely reach the chin of the shortest among them, and that doesn’t account for at least a hundred pounds of muscle difference between us. I know that I have thinned, my ribs poking out beneath the heavy, hole ridden sweater. Some days I feel… brittle. Today especially. I’m not winning any fights against one of them, let alone twelve.
No, I just need to be smart. Wait for an opening, steal a horse, and run as far away as possible. So far, whatever this monster thinks I’m supposed to be to him has saved me from harm, I don’t plan on sticking around to see how long that protects me. Even if I did believe in mates-- as if the Mother ever cared enough about me to give me a soul tie to anyone--I’ve seen the worst in people enough to know it didn’t mean much in the end. What’s a mate but someone obligated to be a breeding mare? What’s a bond if not a magically induced aphrodisiac? I have little doubt that I’m actually safe here; just alive and conscious because it’s too much of a hassle to try and drag my limp body around.
My scheming comes to a grinding halt as Rhysand returns with the canteen, water sloshing the edge as he holds it out for me. It hasn’t occurred to me just how dry my mouth is until I see that water. 
Of course, I’m not going to let him know that. “No thanks.”
“I’m not going to poison you,” he returns.
“Poison's the least of my concerns,” I retort.
He grabs my hand and pushes the canteen into it. “Drink.”
“Bite me,” I snarl.
His men chuckle at that, which must upset him because his wings twitch behind him. He draws a deep breath before saying, “Ask nicely, mate.”
I should dump the water directly on his head, and my hand twitches around the canteen as I debate it, but in the end I decide against it. This male murdered half my family in cold blood, whatever thin amount of protection I might have remains only as long as he doesn’t think I’m a threat. To escape, I need to be smart.
On that subject, does he even know who I am? Does he remember riding into our camp that night, sword drawn, slaughtering my people as they jumped from their mats? Or were we just another blurred face in the mass of lives he’s taken in the name of conquest? He’s as bad as Hybern. Even if he has forgotten, I won’t.
I twist the lid back on without drinking anything, ignoring the way my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
“Don’t say I didn’t try,” he growls as he takes it back and slides it into his saddle bag. There’s a rolled up sleep mat, a blanket, and another sword all tied neatly to that bag. Nothing too heavy, meaning their encampment can’t be far. I need to find a way to get away before they reach it; there will be too many eyes there.
“Your bow,” he says, holding out his hand. 
My hand tightens instinctively around the belt across my chest, the leather worn and cracked from years of use. “No.”
“You can’t ride into camp with them.”
“Great, then you can just leave me here.”
It takes him two steps to be back beside me, and I’m embarrassed to admit how easy it is for him to snag the strap and yank it over my head, despite my best efforts to keep that from happening. 
“Give that back!” 
“The knife can stay, as long as you don’t do anything stupid,” he says like I’m a misbehaving child. 
He keeps his back to me as he ties my bow and quiver up next to his second sword, my stomach rolling at the sight of my things next to his. 
Rhysand orders his men to mount up as he turns back to me, and I get the impression he’s looking me over for more weapons beneath the hood. I still have no idea what he looks like. Ugly and scarred, like most warlords are, I imagine. I’d never gotten a good look at him that night, had only seen those three stars on his hood and that giant sword between his wings, dripping blood. 
“You won’t need any weapons,” he says, in what sounds like it’s an attempt to be gentle, but falls flat. “You’re safe with me.”
I’d have been safer with the kelpie. But I don’t say it, I don’t say anything at all as those large hands lift me back onto the horse, or when he swings into the saddle behind me. I don’t say anything when we cross the river, icy water biting through my thin pants, making my teeth chatter, or when the wind whips relentlessly at us as we leave the grassy plains and head into the mountains. The chill feels like a thousand needles being jammed into my skin, but I will bear it silently. He will not get the satisfaction of seeing me weak; will not be gratified by any sort of conversation for the duration of our journey.
Or at least, that was the plan. 
“You’re shaking,” he says, one hand gripping the reins as he uses the other to slide his cloak off his shoulders and over mine.
The material is thick, lined with fur inside, so startlingly warm between his own body heat and the fur that when it settles over me I give a little sigh of relief. The sleeves are too big, swallowing my hands as I try to pull it more fully over my body. “Thanks.” It slips out of me before I can stop myself.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he replies as he settles around me again.
The smell of him, jasmine and citrus and the sea invades all my senses. I want, more than anything, to get it out of my nose, to keep the knowledge of him far, far away from me, but yet, despite my mind’s protests, my body burrows deeper into it. 
There’s still no encampment or settlement on the horizon, the horses moving deeper and deeper into the mountains as night falls around us. As long as we’re not stopping to make camp, I think I’ll survive. 
“And you haven’t told me yours.” If there must be a conversation, best I can do to buy myself time is steer all conversation away from me.
“I’ve had many names, but most call me Rhys.”
Most called him Death Incarnate amidst a number of things that would make a sailor blush, but I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone call him Rhys. That was entirely too normal. 
“Ok, Rhys,” it tastes like bile on my tongue, acknowledging him as anything other than the monster he has always been called back home. “Where are we going?”
The moon shines bright above us, illuminating the slender path we take through the mountains, a steep drop off on one side of us, nothing but sheer rock wall on the other. 
“Home,” he replies. 
I can’t help the scowl that escapes me, but at least he can’t see it. “And where is home exactly?”
“You’ll see soon,” he replies as he expertly guides his mount up a rocky path. There is no hesitation in his movements; he’s ridden this path many times.
I run a hand over my forehead. “I don’t remember coming this far out.” It slips out of me. If he knows this path then we’re close to the Illyrian borderlines, where his warband can make a semi-permanent encampment. These are grounds I’m not supposed to be anywhere near, nor did I think I was. 
“Where were you headed?” 
My brother’s made his claim through the Grasslands, the ground barely fertile to feed the livestock in the summer. With winter coming fast, he’d tried pushing his boundary lines into the forests near what had once been the Human Lands. I meant to go through the woods, skirting around Hybern’s slave camps and slip into the Uncharted Territories to find some game. I must have skirted too far past the slave camps when I’d lost my map running from those Highway Men.
“The Uncharted Lands,” I say because I honestly can’t come up with a lie that doesn’t make it look like I belong to Hybern or Amarantha. The boundaries between the warbands shift too often, encroaching too close. Sometimes I can barely tell who’s who and this is the only world I’ve ever known.
“Why?” He asks as we crest an incline and lead the men over a long, smooth plateau on the mountain’s western face. The wind is worse here, snapping at us like whips and before I can even burrow into my borrowed cloak, he’s drawing the hood of it over my head.
His arm tightens around my waist as he barks at his men to start riding single file. 
“Was looking for food.”
The horse’s hooves echo between the valley of rock beneath us as we press forward, the precariousness of our situation buying me time to figure out my lie. If I’m not hunting for my brother, what am I doing out here? It’s been a long day; a long week honestly. The rumbling of my stomach and the wind at my face and the warlord at my back seem to occupy the limited space in my quickly tiring mind. The hood of the cloak doesn’t help. It is embedded with some sort of magic, because even though it makes everything dark and warm, I can somehow see right through the fabric, right where that cluster of stars are, as if they’re eye slits. Magic items are rare these days, and expensive, I could probably buy out the Grassland’s market of deer jerky for this item alone.
Eventually the plateau dips, taking us down the other side of the mountain, into the misty canyon below. If I didn’t know where I was before, I really don’t now. Mountains are Illyrian territory, as forbidden and unwelcoming as the Imperial City Hybern had erected in The Middle centuries ago. I need to be paying attention so I know the way back; my eyes are sharp, sharper than most, I should be able to make out a deer path or trail easily, even in the dark, but my eyes are so heavy.
I give myself a little shake. Gotta be paying attention.
The swaying, even gate of the horse reminds me of being a small child, sitting in my mother’s rocking chair as she reads me to sleep. She and my father had always loved telling us stories, my father his made up theories and tales from the road, my mother her books and poems. I try to sit up and adjust my position in the saddle so I’m not slouching forward.
“You do not ride often,” Rhys says, his grip pulling me back more solidly against his chest, so I can feel all the hard planes of him. He’s got to be freezing without his cloak, even if he is still wearing long sleeves and gloves.
“No,” I bite back the rest of the story; how my people had suffered with the loss of my father. How Tam hadn’t been able to organize our survivors in the aftermath, how he’d been unable to store enough food for us that first winter and many of our rider’s had deserted. How he’d had to decide if keeping our stables full was worth the price of the lives hunger was stealing from us; how we’d been forced to eat and sell a few of them, my father’s prized war horse included. 
“We’ll change that,” he says, half to me, half to himself. “I think I like having my mate ride with me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds. At least I’m awake now. 
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
The mist settles around us as we step into the valley, even as the path ahead becomes nearly invisible, he doesn’t slow or get down to walk the horse. He knows where he’s going, has done this so many times he could do it blind. A rare gift many of our traveling cities don’t receive. Envy swells in my chest. I have never had  a place secure enough to set up a permanent camp. The Grasslands are our borders sure, but we move through them daily in fear of an attack, keeping ourselves vigilant for whenever Hybern or Amarantha decide they want more than they’ve already taken from us. Always changing our paths, our camp layout, always moving. How come this monster gets this luxury and my people don’t? 
“You are so hesitant to give it,” he muses, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Do I know it already?”
Shit.
“No, that can’t be right. Our bond is too obvious, I would have remembered.”
He’s as clever as he is quick on his feet, unfortunately.
“So I will know you by association, is that it?”
I should just fling myself off the horse and try to lose myself in the mist. If I’m lucky, maybe one of his men will trample me by accident and this horrible nightmare will be over. At least, if I’m dead I will not have to explain my failure to Tam, or face the alternative of being this male’s breeding mare. Neither is a future I wish to meet.
It is only then that an alternative solution occurs to me.
Tam said I couldn’t come back without food; I’d made a nuisance of myself back home and had swiftly suffered the consequences of it, and with winter coming in fast, my brother has to know he sent me on a fool’s errand. Perhaps intending to keep me out of his way for a while; or to finally get me to bend the knee and submit to his authority as warlord. I hadn’t been of age to take father’s mark, and my allegiance had fallen through the cracks in the years after. Until I was integrated, Tam couldn’t marry me off, as I suspected he wanted to do often, and was probably using this opportunity to try and make me see reason. A future I also loathed to picture. Perhaps, if I played my cards right here, then I could find something more useful than a deer to bring back. If I played along with this little mates concept, what could Rhysand show me? Couldn’t I use any knowledge he gave to my advantage? Surely Tam would find other uses for me than marrying me off with this sort of leverage. My brother was known for his grudges, if I found a way to offer up his enemy on a silver platter, perhaps I’d never have to worry about being married off again.
My stomach twists as the plot plays out before my eyes: This fool taking me into the lands my people had never been able to access before, convincing him to let his guard down, to show me where his people were vulnerable. I could get my hands on camp movements or their supply lines; I could count the fighting men or the horses, make list after list to take back in the place of a few meals I know deep down I’d never be able to find before winter. 
My parents faces flash before my eyes. My mother, so gentle and…sad. She had been sad long before my birth, always missing a home she couldn’t go back to because of Hybern. But she had always tried to be there for me. To sing to me and hold me. She had been good and kind and if she knew where I sat now… what I thought I might do…
And my father. He was cruel and cold and I’d spent a long time wondering if he’d ever loved me at all, but he had been a good leader. He had inspired the men, even on days that had been bleak. He’d been willing to shed whatever blood was necessary to ensure the survival of my people. If this opportunity had been presented while he was alive, he would have tossed a collar around my neck and dragged me to Rhysand’s doorstep himself. 
As for Tamlin, well if he so much as saw Rhysand’s arm around my waist as it was now he would have torn him to shreds. He would hate it, but I think my brother was as calculating and ruthless as my father had been. His protective nature could be overruled by what he deemed necessary to keep us alive. 
I’d need to play my cards right, if I was to make this work. “Yes,” and I force my voice to a whisper, my shoulders hunching in feign defeat. I will have to find ways not to look so utterly revolted about this male touching me; will have to bury all my base instincts to run and claw and fight every time he calls me his mate. But I can do it.
I will do it. For vengeance. For my angel of a mother. For the survival my father died for. I’d damn myself a hundred times over for a chance Tam had never found. 
He rests his chin on my shoulder, thinking and it takes every inch of willpower I possess to not shrug him off. A few hours together and this prick thinks he can just touch me so casually? As if I have no say in the matter because he is my mate and therefore owed whatever affection he sees fit to grant me?
“You can tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you,” his voice is… gentle. Far more gentle than a man in his position should be and I have no idea how to respond to it. 
“My name is Y/N,” I saw softly, like I’m scared the wind will hear me. “Tamlin is my older brother.”
He stiffens behind me and I find myself holding my breath. This is it.
“He never mentioned he had a sister,” he says more to himself than me.
I almost audibly let loose a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah, well he isn’t too fond of me at the moment.” Never mind I didn’t know that he and Tamlin had ever talked on a mutual basis. Sometimes, usually over a mutually beneficial wedding ceremony, did rival camps come together and exchange weapons, food and sometimes training. If I remember correctly, I think there might have been times when we’d done so with the Illyrians, but never did Tam mention that he knew Rhysand personally. Rhysand was always a name whispered like a curse, as if saying it too loud would bring death and destruction upon us. 
“He sent you out here? Alone?” That last bit comes out like a growl.
“Banished, is more of the term he used,” I say under my breath, hoping the tone conveys embarrassment. 
“For what?” He hisses, his tone promising violence. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Now what would convince Death Incarnate that I was something meek and fragile and in need of protection from my big, bad brother? If we really were mates, it would be in his nature to want to protect me, from both physical and emotional harm, but I needed to be careful. Too extreme a lie and I was likely to restart the war between our camps that had cost me my parents. I needed something to pack enough punch to convince him he needed to keep me close, to be looked after, but not so bad that it sparked a fight.
Perhaps my best bet was to appeal to the bond. “He wants me to take his mark,” I twist the sleeves of the cloak between my fingers as I speak. “So he can reap the benefits of marrying me off to one of Autumn’s commanders.”
Rhysand has gone still as death itself behind me and every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire as whatever dark power lives within his skin comes to life. All my instincts scream at me to run, hide.
“But Eris is… cruel and I told Tam I couldn’t do it.” Eris was probably too old for Tam to try, but there had been talks, even when I was a girl, about how my father had wanted an alliance with Autumn, and Eris had his own history with the Illyrians. “He told me I needed to sort out my priorities and when I didn’t, he threw me out.”
“That’s just like him,” Rhysand snarls.
I bite down on my tongue to keep from snarling all the things I’d rather say in my brother’s defense. 
“How long have you been out here on your own?”
“About a week, I think,” I could say longer, but on the off-chance he has spies that could check that sort of thing--and I’m fairly certain the stories about Illyrians and their shadow agents are not far off--I’d rather play it safe. 
He brings his mount to a brief halt as two, looming carvings in the mountain’s face appear through the fog. The touring statues sporting the same great, talon tipped wings as Rhysand, stand guard over the pass ahead of us, their hewn sword held aloft. Sleeping wyverns lay at the base of each statue, their carefully carved eyes at eye level with us as the men fall in line behind us. The air is tinged with magic--overly sweet and oppressive-- as we approach, some sort of shield.
“From here,” he says softly in my ear, the mask still shielding the lower half of his face from the wind rough against my cheek. “You’ll never have to worry about being alone again.”
I’m going to be sick!  Play it safe. Play the game. For Tam. For Mom and Dad. I will myself to picture their faces again, to keep reminding myself what is at stake. 
Rhysand kicks the horse into motion again, passing through the shield with a flick of his gloved hand, soft ripples of magic parting for us like someone had pulled back a curtain. I’ve never seen anyone use magic so casually, so fluidly. Once all the riders have passed through, I feel the shield fall back into place behind us. No turning back now.
Ahead, the path begins to widen. At the far end of the path, still shrouded on either side by the mountains, sit two torches, the light guiding the way. When we reach them, the path dips dangerously into a valley, all filled with large, midnight black tents. More torches and bonfires light the cloth city, the sounds of drum beats and revelry beckoning from beneath us.
“I see the party started without us,” one of the men says from behind us.
“Devlon must have had a good run,” Rhysand muses as he takes us down into the valley. 
As the lights draw closer, I can start to make out the tribal markings and depictions sewn into the sides of the tents. There’s singing to go with the drum beats, all in a language that makes no sense to me, just like the markings. Something from the Mountains none of my people had ever been privy to. 
When we reach the outskirts of the city, we are greeted by two towering males, wearing little other than loose, dark paints and a smattering of blood red paint along their bare chests and faces. Each holds a spear, a dagger strapped to their muscled thighs. 
One barks something at Rhysand in Illyrian, his slate colored gaze fixed on me, still wearing the lord’s cloak. I’m grateful they cannot see my face, the fear I know will be clear in my eyes. It is hard enough to hide the trembling in my hands.
Rhysand dismounts to greet them, still speaking in Illyrian until they retreat into the maze of tents beyond. Despite the raucous laughter and music coming from the center, the rows of tents are organized into clear streets and sectors, some dancing bodies visible in between the rows, though most of the camp seems to be in its heart at the moment. 
He runs a gloved hand over the horses neck as he turns to face the men, their mounts dancing beneath them. “We will strategize in the morning.”
That is apparently dismissal enough, as his men bow their heads and kick their steads into motion around the outskirts of camp, soon disappearing into the darkness. My stomach drops as I realize I’m alone with my enemy for the first time all night. My anxiety only heightens as he takes the reins and guides the horse forward without a word of where we’re going.
I’m too scared to ask either.
Staying on the edge of camp means I cannot see any of what is happening within, though I glimpse bonfires and revelry often enough to guess. It is not unlike our own celebrations, even if the music is different.
Rhysand still doesn’t speak as we pass another group of sentries and head up a well worn path in the heart of the valley. The grass is lush here, would be up to his knees were it not for the cleared stretch lined by torches. It is quieter here, the music distant.
Overhead, the stars glitter like a million little diamonds, all the constellations I have memorized a stark contrast to the dark shadows of this hidden mountain world. We’re surrounded on all sides by mountains, shielded from view and harm by stone. It is so different to the rolling hills I am used to, it is nice to know that the stars, at least, have not changed.
The path leads to a secluded circle of larger tents, still black but stitched with stars not unlike the ones on the cloak I’m still wearing.
We pass yet another group of sentries as we approach, and only once we’re face to face with the largest tent in the circle does Rhysand finally stop.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
I should have run. Should have thrown myself into the river. Should have risked a quick death trying to fight my way out of this than subjecting myself to this.
Rhysand grabs my waist again and lifts me off the horse as if I weigh nothing. Compared to his size, I’m sure I do. In the torchlight, this is the first time I’ve managed to glimpse his face. I’d been drastically wrong about his appearance. The monster that haunted my nightmares was not some old, scarred thing as I had pictured, I wasn’t sure he was even older than Tam. A young lord, his features sharp, but clean cut. Some of his raven black hair fell loose around his sun kissed face, framing a set of violet eyes so bright they practically glittered like stars in his head, the rest was braided with strands of blue and purple thread. By far the most beautiful male I’d ever seen in my life and I think I hate him a little more for it. 
“You must be tired,” he says finally.
I don’t know what to do or say, so I just nod, which I think might be a mistake because now we’re heading inside the tent and all I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears because I have made a terrible mistake!
By some magic trick, torches flair to life as we enter, the soft orange glow cast in eerie patterns against the sleek black leather walls. On one side of the tent is a bed large enough to accommodate someone with such massive wings, piled with furs and pelts of various animals. On the other end, a table with some chairs and various weapons and books and trinkets scattered about the top of it. There’s chests piled in the corner, locked and dusty like they haven’t been opened since they’d been moved in. The floor is covered in a dozen different rugs, all overlapping in an attempt to make the place feel cozier but the patterns and colors are all so different that it looks like a whacky patchwork quilt. Clearly a layout chosen by a male.
“I apologize for the mess,” he begins as he takes off the scarf tied around the lower half of his face and places it over the back of a chair. “I… was not expecting to come across anybody out there, let alone bringing anyone back.”
“What were you doing out there?” My voice shakes too much for my liking and I’m convinced I asked that far too quickly to not be totally obvious, but it’s too late to take it back now.
“Scouting,” he says with no further explanation as he tosses his gloves onto a heap of more gloves on the edge of the table. 
My muscles stiffen as I watch him warily. If he starts undressing I might really change my mind and try to run for it.
I am prepared to do what is necessary for my people, but that is a line I cannot cross yet. Not tonight.  
He steps closer to where I stand dumbly in the center of the room, drowning in his cloak, and he nudges the hood off my face with his knuckles. 
I have to remind myself to stop biting my lip as the fabric slides off my head. Even fully clothed, standing this close to him, with those violet eyes drinking me in like that, I feel very exposed and vulnerable. 
“You’re shaking,” he says softly, his hand drifting down the side of my cheek.
I hate that I shiver under his touch. Hate that my eyes go to his full lips and how soft they look in this torchlight. I hate that I find him beautiful, hate that I do not pull away as he cups my cheek. I hate myself for putting myself in this position in the first place. 
“I…” this is not an act, I really don’t know what to do or say here. My chest aches with the way he’s looking at me, like maybe there really is some strange, mystical thread linking us together and it’s coming awake the more he has his hands on me. Yet my mind balks and screams all the same and I cannot tell which of them is supposed to help me do this. “This is a lot.”
“There’s no need to be afraid,” he assures, his voice low and husky, a tone I think might be better suited to the bedroom. “You are safe with me.”
Safe.
As if he could ever make me feel safe.
His thumb rubs circles in my cheek, the calluses along his palm from years of sword play scratching pleasantly across my skin. Violet eyes rove over me, studying the plains of my face like he’s cataloging every detail. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
I let loose a breath as he heads back to the tent flap, where his horse is still waiting.
“For now, it would be best if you stay here. Don’t go anywhere without me. At least, not until you take my mark.”
And then he’s gone, finally leaving me alone for the first time in hours, but even if I wanted to do some snooping, I can’t. All I can do is stand there as my stomach rises in my throat. 
His mark.
How the hell was I supposed to go home bearing Rhysand’s mark? 
I rub my temples with my fingertips. I need to find something useful to take back to Tamlin and get out of here fast, because if I don’t, I may never be allowed to go home again.
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Tag List: @judig92, @randomperson1234sblog, @nyxbranwenn, @lilah-asteria, @barb00235, @landofpetrichor
Let me know if you would also like to be added to the Tag List! I have a good couple of chapters planned :)
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freyito · 5 months ago
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ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ
✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader
★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.
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✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.
🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread
✎ wc: 2.2k
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The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.
Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.
You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.
Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.
You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.
Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?
You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.
When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.
Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?
You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.
When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.
You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.
On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.
The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.
Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.
“Micah–”
“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”
At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”
Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.
“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”
.  *     ✦     .      ⁺   .
Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.
A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.
You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.
Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.
Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…
Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.
“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.
You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…
“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.
“... To the ghosts of the past?”
“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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biocrafthero · 5 months ago
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Some Queer Games and Devs to check out this Pride Month
Hello! I play a decent amount of video games, and like making posts about them. This year, I've been making a lot more posts analyzing and promoting games I particularly enjoy. I'm making this post as a way to share games that have queer developers and/or topics to celebrate this year's Pride Month.
All games' websites will be linked in their respective sections, and I urge you to check out any of the games that speak to you. There's a decent amount of variety on this list, so please give all of them a look!
Please note that all of these games are ones I have personally played--I am not including games I have not played yet for myself. If you were hoping for your favorite title to be on here, I am very sorry but chances are I just haven't heard of or played it yet.
ANATOMY (2016)
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ANATOMY is a horror game released in 2016 by developer Kitty Horrorshow (she/her). While the game does not contain any queer themes, the dev is openly transgender.
The plot of the game coincides with the gameplay, which centers around walking through a nearly pitch-black house collecting tapes and putting them in a tape player. Despite its simplicity, the game has been commended by many for being "the scariest game they have ever played." The story of the house is uncovered as you listen to each of the tapes, and reentering each time the game shuts you out.
This game features themes surrounding body horror and psychological horror, and one moment that can be seen as a mild jumpscare if it is not expected.
A full playthrough takes about an hour, with multiple endings. However, all roads lead to the same destination.
ANATOMY is available for $3 USD on itch.io.
We Know The Devil (2015)
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We Know The Devil is a visual novel developed by the team Worst Girls Games, which consists of Aevee Bee (she/her) and Max Schwartz (any). Music for the game is composed by Alec Lambert.
The plot of the game surrounds three teenagers who have been sent to a religious summer camp in the American midwest. With just one week left, they're all hoping for everything to be smooth sailing, but nothing is ever that simple. On this fateful night, they must face the devil; two will make it out, but one will be left behind.
The gameplay focuses on making decisions on who gets paired up together, and consequently who gets left out of the interaction. These choices determine what ending you get and there are never any wrong answers.
Queer rep in this game consists of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There is also mentioned homosexuality regarding a male character that is only ever talked about in passing.
This game contains themes surrounding religion, internalized homophobia, along with general homophobia and transphobia. There are scenes that depict underage drinking, vomiting, body horror, and some moments that can be interpreted as self-harm. Some sound effects in the game can be jarring, along with the track "Incense (Smoke & Honey)" from the OST, a song that plays in three of the four endings.
A single playthrough can take about two hours depending on reading speed. There are four endings, meaning a minimum of four playthroughs.
We Know The Devil is available for $6.66 USD on Steam, Nintendo Switch, and itch.io.
There is also the demo for the game, which is free to download off of the game's itch.io page and baked into the Switch port.
Heaven Will Be Mine (2017)
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Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel also developed by the team Worst Girls Games, with soundtrack once again composed by Alec Lambert.
The game's plot centers around three factions in the solar system. They have all been called back to Earth under threat of death; two factions want to stay in space, while one is choosing to return. At the start of the game, you can choose one out of three characters to follow the POV of, each belonging to one of the three factions.
Gameplay is similar to We Know The Devil, meaning that you make decisions throughout the story that determine what ending you get. There are no wrong choices, only ones that lean in the favor of one of the faction out of your options.
Queer rep in this game consists primarily of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There may be more I am forgetting to mention.
This game contains scenes depicting violence, body horror, and discussions about sexuality, abuse, and trauma. This game is meant for a more mature audience than the others on this list. Some sound effects and music in the game can be jarring. There may be content warnings I am forgetting to put here.
The game has three major story routes and three endings, and each playthrough takes around four to five hours depending on reading speed. At minimum, you will need to play this game three times.
Heaven Will Be Mine is available for $15 USD on Steam, iOS, and itch.io. It should be noted that the price on iOS is different than on other platforms, being listed at $5 USD.
In Stars And Time (2023)
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In Stars And Time is a turn-based RPG developed by insertdisc5 (she/they) and published by Armor Games Studios. Music for the game is composed by Studio Thumpy Puppy.
The story follows your typical RPG party, starting the day before the final dungeon and final boss. However, when you go in, you get caught in a trap and die. Time suddenly rewinds, and you find yourself at the day before your party entered the dungeon. You are caught in a time loop, and must find a way to stop the final boss and escape the loops.
Gameplay mostly consists of turn-based combat with enemies, and making the right dialogue choices when talking to NPCs and your party members. There are several puzzles throughout the game that encourage you to use the looping mechanic to solve them.
Queer rep in this game consists of transgenderism (transmasc and nonbinary explicitly, but there are some characters that can be interpreted as transfem, agender, and/or genderfluid), aromanticism, asexuality, lesbianism and homosexuality, and a plot thread that involves t4t romance. All six major characters have canonical pronoun sets. There may be more rep I am forgetting to include here in this list.
This game contains scenes of mild violence, self-hatred and other heavy mental heath topics, one scene of child endangerment, unreality, and optional scenes involving self-harm and suicide.
The average playtime for this game is 26 hours, which increases to 36 depending on how much optional content you engage with. There is technically one ending, but an optional plot thread can get you an alternate version of the ending screen. This plot thread is highly encouraged to be followed.
In Stars And Time is available for $20 USD on Steam, itch.io, Nintendo Switch, and PS4 and PS5.
There is also a previous title titled START AGAIN: a prologue, which is available on Steam and itch.io. This game does not need to be played to understand In Stars And Time, but is highly recommended nonetheless.
Some personal anecdotes regarding each of these games:
In Stars And Time is one of the few games where I saw a character (Siffrin in this case), pointed at them, and said "They're just like me!"
We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine both have themes of queer solidarity in the face of oppression and it fills me with rebellious rage (positive).
ANATOMY is one of my favorite games ever made, and is objectively the scariest game I have ever played.
Almost all of these games have made me almost cry, which is a very high bar for a game to reach. The only one that didn't is ANATOMY, mostly because it evokes more fear than it does tears for me.
We Know The Devil in particular evokes a very specific nostalgia for me, so the setting and characters hit differently for me than they may for others.
I played In Stars And Time shortly after a breakup and consequently developed the most horrific crush on the character Isabeau. It is frankly quite embarrassing.
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percy-puppy · 11 months ago
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Pairing: Obsessed!Stalker!Ghostface x Reader
Summary: Nobody asked him to, yet Ghostface becomes the God of revenge for you, bringing down everyone who has ever wronged you.
CW: 18+ Content | MDNI | Murder, Gore, Fake Friends, Cheating, Sexual Harassment, Mentions of Knifeplay, Male Masturbation, Reader gets called girl (1) time.
A/N: @mothymunson proofread as always & was the one I just spammed with the idea out of the blue, so… thanks, bestie! 💘
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Your friends are getting killed one by one.
It starts with your boyfriend—Leading to you finding out he had an affair with your best friend the whole time.
Your other so-called friends? The whole group knew. “It just wasn't our thing to tell, you know…?” - “What can you do? They just fell in love.” The worst thing? You didn't expect your friends to react any differently.
They always were some fucked up blend of bullying snakes mixed with confidantes, but you kept them close as they are all the friendship you know.
Even if your boyfriend is dead, the betrayal sits deep inside your bones. There is no justice in any of this. Especially with your best friend now getting all the attention as she is “broken-hearted” about losing “her” man.
You're so upset and all alone. Where are your friends? Why aren't they consoling you?
Ghostface.
He sees it all. Has seen it for a while.
He saw your best friend with your boyfriend on his way home… well, to your home.
He heard your friends all laugh behind your back, mock you, talk shit, and make plans that actively excluded you.
He just wants you happy. You deserve it, but your friends are like an infection you don't know how to get rid of and go no contact.
So he does what he can do best.
He removes the diseased meat before it can spread.
Piece by piece.
One by one.
They need to suffer for all the times they made you cry, for all the times they made you think you're unlovable.
And you deserve some peace of mind to close the chapter of this rotten relationship you had—So it starts with a heart in a box at your doorstep.
It's in the cutest box, wrapped like a present. It's your boyfriend’s.
He promised it to you, after all. And since he didn't keep his promises, Ghostface ensures you at least get what you’re owed.
Then they find your best friend with her hands cut off and stuffed down her throat.
She's choking on the fact that she touched what was yours. Somebody say again that Ghostface doesn't have an excellent sense of humor.
But since you're his special girl, he doesn't even stop there. He takes care of you and all those pesky little problems in your life.
And it's brutal.
Bloody.
None of them had a quick death, and fairly, they deserve it.
That college teacher who had it out for you ever since you reported him for his inappropriate comments?
“Somebody” tied him to the back of his car and went on a little road trip with him hauled after.
Shame.
What a shame.
You hate to admit it, but you're glad they're gone. Yes, you're scared you're next cause you don't know that Ghostface does it all for you, but for the first time, you feel free.
If the killer keeps going like this, soon nothing and no one is left from your old life. Maybe, if you make it out alive, you can actually start a new life somewhere new.
And all the while you're going through a moral crisis and worry for your safety, Ghostface has the time of his life.
Killing was never more fulfilling.
He is technically changing the world.
Your world.
Making your life better and easier.
Your fights are his now. Your grudges are his.
Even if you buried the hatchet, he digs it back up.
Funnily enough? When police question you… When Gale Weathers pops up and starts snooping and asking if you know something, anything, you conveniently forget to mention how, weeks ago, all of your old diaries vanished from the attic.
You also forget about the late-night calls with the freak on the other side, breathing heavily, slick sounds hinting at him jerking off as he love-bombs you.
You think you lost the fear of Ghostface. He is like a phantom out to watch over you—Almost like a guardian angel.
Maybe he will turn up at your house at some point. Perhaps he will bring the knife and hold it to your throat while he does all the dirty things he promises you over the phone.
Speaking of… it rings again.
“Hello, little bunny. What's your favorite scary movie?”
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crazedear · 8 months ago
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No one asked for this…but I can sense my desperate brothers and sisters through the screen and have decided to quench their thirst through…
.
.
STATICRADIO FIC RECOMMENDATIONS
Ever since I’ve finished watching Hazbin Hotel, I’ve been absolutely obsessed with these two and their dynamic, as a result, I have been researching and stocking up on good (dare I say exquisite) fanfictions about these two psychopaths…so why not share my library with people who want it (ik there are some out there 🫵)
Also some things I need to mention:
Most of the fics recommended are gonna be very Vox and Alastor centered (Ofcourse with background and/or side pairs)
This list is not in any particular order and is also based on what I find good and satisfies my personal preferences when it comes to these two, so some of these may not be to your liking, but I still hope you can find at least one that you can enjoy!
all fanfics mentioned are sourced from Ao3
Most are either incomplete, ongoing, or just haven’t updated in a long time, BUT THEYR ARE STILL SO GOOD AND WORTH READING 🙏
OKAY THATS IT REC TIME!
Static Shock
birdsaretoddlers
Rated M
Chapters 10/?
Alastor, Altruist, Died for his Friends. That was the headline. Vox made sure it was plastered all over Hell the moment he'd seen that demon flee for his life. After he remained missing, Vox accepted that he really was dead. Dead and gone. No rival. He and the Vees were now free to rule Hell as the Overlords they'd always dreamed of being, and the plans were finally in motion.
Then Vox went out for donuts, and everything came crashing down. Because Alastor wasn't dead.
He was barely alive.
That one Tuesday
AllIWantIsPasta
Rated E
Chapters 35/38
A chance encounter leads to new developments between Alastor and Vox, and things escalate far beyond anyone could have predicted.
Remote Access
x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)
Rated E
Chapters 12/?
In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.
or, alternatively...
The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.
5 Times Vox Flirted With Alastor and 1 Time He Did Back
WriterQuil
Rated M
Chapters 5/6
A tiny series of continued one shots dedicated towards Vox's "unrequited" tomfoolery and how he was so horrid at expressing it, only to progressively get better at it over time.
You’re better than "paradise"
BloodSoakedPapers
Rating none
Chapters 7/7
Based on the one shot 'better than paradise!' With permission!
Vox gets redeemed and sent to heaven but he doesn’t want to be there at all. And he will do whatever he can no matter how long it takes to get back to hell.
-
Vox gets redeemed after sacrificing his life to save Alastor in the middle of extermination day.
Pushing Your Buttons
HollowedHearts
Rating T
Chapters 6/19
After his crushing defeat at the hands of Alastor, Vox decides he needs to take a more hands-on approach in order to destroy the Radio Demon.
Of course, his best course of action is to exploit the other’s weaknesses… if he has any.
The only problem is that means Vox might have to get a bit closer to Alastor than he previously thought (in more than just one way).
———
Or; Vox finds out the Radio Demon’s true weakness — affection.
etched into your bones
Irrwisch
Rating M
Chapters 13/14
Vox has never danced much, and certainly never with another male. He’s a little nervous, but Alastor’s here. He looks at the man’s face, and they’re about the same height. He’s still smiling. He smells like rot and decay and blood, but everyone does, at least a little. Vox can hear the static cackle in the air.
He wants to kiss him.
He doesn’t, not yet. But he wants to.
|
Throughout the years, things change with Vox and Alastor, and they stay the same, too.
Meant To Be Yours
Mr_Ghosty
Rating M
Chapters 3/3
He loves him, he loves him, he loves him. Vox has loved Alastor through all the decades they've known each other. And, in a moment of pure, drunken stupidity, he tells Alastor how he feels.
Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't
Drowsy_Salamander
Rating T
Chapters: 2/6
“I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”
The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.
A voice for radio.
...
Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.
From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?
Oh shit.
Vintage
InvisibleLee
Rating T
Chapters 1/1
Vox decided to make a little gift and drop it off anonymously. But there's always an option to figure it out.
Video missed the Radio Star
Thalliumtea
Rating G
Chapters 1/1
Vox is haunted by his choices years after the fact. Nights when the static in his head got too loud, when he couldn't breathe, however artificial it was, where he grabbed that radio by his bedside and fiddled with the dials, looking for any present shows, any sign of his voice.
Nothing.
This absence was killing him, again.
Untitled
Remain_Nameless_Raven
Rating M
Chapters 1/1
Vox has been absent for two weeks. Alastor comes to the recently abandon Vs Tower to investigate.
To Please You, Deer (5 +1)
Otaku24
Rating M
Chapters 2/7
5 times Vox tries to court Alastor and one time Alastor courts Vox back~
Soul Safe
KP100
Rating T
Chapters: 17/?
Once Alastor’s back made contact with the brick wall and he had nowhere else to go, his smile more of a gruesome snarl with the corners of his mouth still tipped up in a mock smile and eyes radio dials, Vox was able to get close enough to notice a slight shade difference in his red shirt, just below his shoulder. His lower lip looked more swollen than normal too- no, Vox would not be admitting to knowing what shape it usually was to anyone besides himself- causing him to frown.
"Who did this to you?"
One-Sided Date Night
InvisibleLee
Rating T
Chapters 2/2
“You’re a great friend,” Vox said sincerely, placing a hand over the one on his frame, leaning into the touch. “Thank you, Alastor.”
“You’re welcome, Vox.”
This would be fine.
It was supposed to be fine.
Why did it feel like heartbreak?
Vox's Reality TV Special!
Bee-nut (wellthizizdeprezzing)
Rating T
Chapters: 9/?
After Sir Pentious fails to spy on the hotel Hazbin staff, Vox decides that in order to get back at Alastor he's going to offer to film the hotel for his new “reality TV show''. Charlie, wanting more sinners to flock to the hotel, accepts his offer. Vox is in for his reality check as the show reveals things about his feelings towards Alastor he didn’t expect.
Chaos abounds.
Eclipse
Purrsly
Rating T
Chapters 1/1
Alastor was a virus. A malware he couldn't erase, and it occupied his every thought.
And yet-
equilibrium
curtailed
Rating M
Chapters 4/?
“Help…”
The image of Alastor trying to crawl on his wounded stomach, those delicate fingers curling helplessly in air, reaching towards Vox — a smile stitched-up and eyes that screamed — the essence of a soul that twisted on the palm. Help, the fragment of Alastor’s soul had pleaded. Please. Help. Help. Help. Pleading with his enemy. Alastor couldn't even recognize him. Vox hadn’t even paused to think as he grabbed Alastor's hand, and the smallest bit of his own soul twined around, deep deep deep, merging fully with that fragment of Alastor, anything to steer him away from the awful finality of nonexistence. Vox's mind rejected the notion. His conscience exorcised the option from reality.
OR
Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.
Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.
You're on the Air
rillo (rillyrillo)
Rating M
Chapters 15/?
A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air.
Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.
[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]
Alastor, Altruist
Coppercrow
Rating E
Chapters 5/?
When his microphone breaks, Alastor realises far too late that he may have underestimated the danger he was in.
.
.
.
.
.
Alastor's fight with Adam goes horribly wrong, and Charlie and her friends have to deal with the aftermath of a defeating loss. But is everything truly as it seems?
I Just Wanted to See Your Face
KisaTM
Rating none
Chapters 3/?
When you fall, you fall hard. Be that Hell or Love at first sight.
This is a story of how Vox met Alastor, their relationship and their falling out, before Alastor disappears for 7 years without explanation.
Ackamarackus
ZootZeet
Rating none
Chapters 1/1
The idea of romantic affections and love never piqued Alastor's fancy.
In fact, the radio demon was sure he wasn't even capable of such emotions.
So when an unfamiliar ache starts blooming in his chest it catches the man quite off guard.
Especially considering it's directed towards his outspoken business partner.
Knife Through the Heart
Veynn
Rating T
Chapters 13/?
After being grievously injured by an angelic weapon, Alastor unwittingly finds himself teaming up with Vox. Unfortunately, emotions are a bitch, and Vox still has some unfinished business with Alastor nearly fifty years in the making.
Rival Frequencies
ArchangelL0ki
Rating none
Chapters 2/?
Vox really didn't know what he was playing at. Watching the optimistic little idiots rebuild their pathetic hotel was not his idea of a good time, and he definitely wasn't watching for a flash of red and camera distortion, no, not at all.
misery meat
loveronmayday (nariaein)
Rating T
Chapters 1/1
Alastor offers a slice to Vox, who readily tries it. Savory and rich, with an underlayer of cognac.
"Thoughts?"
If Vox didn't like it, he wouldn't lie, but he would never be rude. No, instead, he would propose his own liver to perfect the flavor. Anything Alastor wanted.
or: Alastor and Vox share a meal.
Radio Healed the Video Star
Aspiring_Forest_Witch
Rating M
Chapters 49/?
Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.
Bluest Monday
Bapple
Rating E
Chapters 14/16
The year is 1989; Vox and his closest friend Alastor have maintained a strong allegiance for decades. Thus far, Vox has been the Radio Demon’s biggest admirer and protégé, always more than a few steps behind; always wanting more than friendship.The 80s bring with them a new era for televisual media; TV is finally becoming king, threatening to cause a rift between the two friends. Vox, desperate to keep Alastor in his life, doubles his romantic efforts. Alastor, desperate to maintain control and power, decides to indulge them.
A story in which Vox finally gets the man of his dreams; a flighty wicked demon who loves to push his buttons. A story about true friendship, true love, even; but also about how it eventually has to end in tears. A story about how there may be potential to salvage it, after all. Only time can tell.
Im definitely gonna keep updating whenever I find more, or if I recall any! Please give the authors and writers of these fics much love and support! They did amazing jobs and deserve so much! (Also please feel free to recommend fics to me or ones that you think should be added to the list!)
Love yallll!! 💕💕✨
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b00kdiary · 2 years ago
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MASTERLIST
SJM: A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel Fanfic Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel. And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart. Wattpad & Ao3 A Court of Pleasure and Ruin (Nesta x Cassian x Azriel)
Nesta can't stop thinking about how Azriel and Cassian made her feel during training and all the things she wished she could do with them. Looks like her wishes have come true.
Wildest Dreams (Batboys x Plus size reader ACOTAR)
Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn't prepare her for the night they would share.
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V
Relax (Bat Boys X Plus Size reader) Where the reader goes into the Birchin sauna for some peace– and then falls asleep. She wakes up and finds she isn’t alone anymore. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel desperately want to help her relax. (Hint: High Lady Feyre likes to watch) Dreamer-(Rhysand x Reader)Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs. Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.
Yours (Rhysand x Plus size reader) Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.
Euphoria- (Ithan Holstrom x Plus size reader)
Where Y/N finds herself needing to be reminded just how desirable she is, and Ithan Holstrom is more than willing to show her.
Stay With Me (Rhysand x Plus size reader) Part Two Part Three
Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord. ‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’
Better Than Any Fantasy (Ruhn Danaan x Tristan Flynn x Plus size reader) Y/N’s been avoiding Flynn like the plague, and Ruhn knows why and is more than happy to tell him. Especially when that conversation leads to something much better than any of them could have hoped for.
Hurt me (Cassian x Plus size reader)
Cassian and Y/N are late for an IC meeting not that Cassian cares, no, he has two things on his mind: your body and your pleasure.
Mirror, Mirror (Cassian x Plus size reader)
Y/N flees a party where it seems Cassian and Nesta can’t stay away from each other, but when Cassian comes rushing after her, more than one declaration is made and more than one secret is discovered. Cauldron Blessed (Azriel x Plus size reader) When you overhear Azriel say that the Cauldron was wrong about you. Take it (Cassian x Azriel x Plus size reader) Part 2 Rhysand's playing Cupid and his meddling has you experiencing something you never would have thought possible. Unworthy (Azriel x Plus Size Reader) Azriel hated her, he was disgusted by her… and he didn’t want another male coming near her. It all comes rushing to the surface one night when Y/N can’t take his cruelty anymore- and Azriel can’t keep lying to her about how he really feels. Mine (Cassian x plus size reader) Y/N goes wedding dress shopping and is confronted with females who make it clear that they think she’s unworthy of being Cassian’s mate, that she shouldn’t be his wife. Cassian shows her just how fucking wrong they are. Fire Night (Eris X plus size reader) It’s Fire Night and High Lord Eris has to complete the Great Rite. He finds Y/N – he finds his maiden. Cautious (Bat boys x plus size reader) PART TWO It's just as Cassian said: the bat boys were young and dumb… and fucked females in the same room as each other. Y/N’s in for one hell of a surprise.House of the Dragon: Aemond Targaryen
An Old Flame (fin) Wattpad version
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI a Part VI b The Letter
Beautiful Creature (fin)
Part I Part II Part III
Unexpected (fin)
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI
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imustbenuts · 7 months ago
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im free from yakuza kiwami 2. fuck the writing in this one. this was a complete mess of pulling from the most popular generic east asian drama tropes at the time of 2006 and having it be handled by a super inexperienced writer at the helm.
i went from having no expectations, got somewhat surprised, only to end up downing alcohol and laughing hysterically before the credits rolled. so that should set the mood for how i feel about this one. thought vomit under the cut, a lot of info dump about culture incoming
yakuza kiwami 2 is pure heterosexual east asian romance bullshit.
im gonna just. describe as best as i can what i know and remember from the general media coming out from the 90s to the 2010s in around this part of the world before i just start explaining why i think this story is a mess.
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so. 2 parts i swear is responsible for this rubbish.
1) East Asian Beauty Standard
the general consensus for a beautiful feminine woman AT THE TIME in this sphere is the following
be willowy thin (fat = lazy and ugly)
have black hair that ISNT short (dyed = too much individuality, too much WESTERN INDIVIDUALISM, gasp how dare!)
fair skinned (bc dark = she works in the fields and is from a lower class)
young. if you heard of the term "Christmas Cake" in japan context, yeah. (ie women over age of 25 are undesirable)
be educated and refined, bc that indicates class and femininity (failing this means shes vulgar and gasp like a barbarian)
be submissive to her male peers in the sense that her authority cannot override his at least in public (for the sake of his face)
dresses feminine and not like a man (trousers and jeans are man-ish. traditional clothing, skirts and dresses are preferred. the further back the stronger this sentiment is.)
incidentally, theres a lot of classism tied to this EABS due to sinocentric culture influences. it has to do with the chinese court system and how korea and japan copied it and a lot of the culture wholesale but. anyway. thats like over 1000 years of history in there thats not really worth detouring to rn.
and also, the worth of a man is sometimes (not always) upheld by how classy and feminine this wife of his is. as of 2024 though, this line of thought is still around in the more conservative pockets. also, the education might not matter as much these days as how deep her and her parents' pockets and wealth are.
moving on.
2) media tropes
so. off the top of my head.
if you wanted a popular romance drama in this time period, the popular offerings no matter where you looked tended to offer the same flavors of tropes.
the woman always has dark hair, is fair skinned, thin and younger than her male love interest. ive never seen this broken or subverted in my time absorbing via osmosis the dramas playing on local tv growing up in the early 2000s.
everything else about her can be subverted though. sometimes she can wear fancy pants or have short hair to indicate her strong individualism. BUT, her personality no matter how strong it begins, no matter how her intro begins will 99% of the time encounter an effect where catching feelings turns her into a meek loyal woman to her love interest.
bc she cant override his authority in this culture context.
at worst, she becomes highly irrational and even hysterical in the dramas when bad things happen. this includes things like love triangle, or a fallout of family business, drama, plot or whatever. she would cry and sometimes even die.
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see: sawamura yumi. sayama kaoru.
meanwhile, the male love interest can be anything. ive seen middle aged guys to young good looking upcoming actors playing the lead, with looks varying from haggardly okay to young and handsome. it. really depends on the genre.
depending on what specific country it came from, the drama would have the male either grow, become manlier (by learning honor ig), become stupid in the name of love, but he rarely if ever actually dies. the woman effectively becomes yoshi for mario to lauch off on when they're crossing a chasm
the romance is forced. a lot of the BIG LOVE SPARK ie kissing happens in tense moments bc it builds drama, but in reality comes too fucking close to sexual assault (some of the old jackie chan movies does this iirc for slapstick even)
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see: sayama getting kissed right after handling her biological father's ashes less than 24 hours ago and admitting to kiryu that shes scared. this scene right fucking here.
bc in general, the scriptwriters for popular dramas tended to be guys themselves and tended to write more human dudes. and the women in the stories are reflective of the ideal societal expectation at the time: being a Refined Housewife.
so her character development is often headed in the direction of marriage and being a stay at home mom.
if it sounds a little like tradwife bullshit, it is.
Refined Housewife
(i have massive negative thoughts about this which i KNOW for a fact is a thing bc a lot of these societal culture femininity was impressed on me as a kid in a world where it was already getting increasingly impossible to have 1 spouse be a SAHP. and also i hated the whole thing about giving face to the patriarch of the house when i personally saw so much ego dick measuring from my uncles. anyway understand that this is both a bias an a lived experience, so proceed with that in mind)
there is a problem with the Refined Housewife expectation: education.
in general, education has been a good metric to judge how classy or smart one is in asia's largely on-the-surface meritocracy based culture. people will look at each other's school first and then judge them from there, and pretty hard too.
so everyone regardless of gender will be expected to study super hard. and bc having good test scores and going to good schools looks good for the family's face, parents will often pile on tuition to the child to get them a leg up in life.
bc also no good degree from good school means no future.
but then... the woman is expected to be a housewife. 🙃 meaning... the education, her accomplishments, are kinda... tossed away in this context. put a pin in this.
it wont matter how much she studied or accomplished, bc the expectation is that the woman would marry and obey her husband, and give him face/honor that way. the kids will come eventually bc having kids = being filial to ones parents in this context.
also uh. no, having adopted kids is not thought of as being filial. continuing the bloodline is.
and if you've been paying attention, then yes, ive been skirting around the backbone of sayama kaoru's writing foundations this entire time.
Her story has been butchered so clumsily i cant even...
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lets just. ugh.
she fits the EABS standard, her tropes are trying to subvert the expectations of a womanly woman in this context, she has IMPRESSIVE education and career achievements. she works in a male dominated field, and is keenly aware of sexism. she is strong, stronger than her male peers, at least we are told.
by 2006s standards, its still considered a fresh take with those alone in japan. sexism there is its own flavor of crap. (if you noticed ive not spoken about LGBTQ+ stuff at all, its bc how ridiculously BINARY the expectation is at that point in time. it still is today but less so)
however, the writing has this sense of trying to copy the popular tropes at the time while not fully understanding and dissecting them, and ends up butchering sayama's character before the romance even properly began.
i mean, for fucks sake even, sayama and kiryu has a whopping 14 year age gap. when im told these are supposed to be believable people living in japan, this is too big for me to just go 'oh ok!'. and remember the Christmas Cake thing? shes 25. (FUCKING--!!!! !!)
the problem here that i see is the writer trying to apply all of those while trying to play the tropes straight. trying to imitate. trying to make a statement but then finding out theres nothing within yourself to stand by what you want to say and backtracking.
we are told:
sayama is strong yet she goes down with 1 slap by random thugs and needing kiryu to come in and body them. because romance ig.
we are told shes a yakuza hunter but she doesnt scare a single one beyond her introductory scene.
she goes from defiant and bossing kiryu around to getting her actions overridden by kiryu and ryuji, both men, towards the end
her subtext is that shes not feminine and therefore conventionally undesirable, but then kiryu tells her shes actually feminine and therefore desired, as if its all that matters.
she becomes so stricken by grief and freaked out that she runs off solo to deal with ryuji in the most out of left pocket planning ive ever fucking seen.
and then yells as she takes out her police baton to take down the big yakuza dude, drawing attention and turning herself into a hostage.
i know the writing will fumble but i didnt expect it to fumble this bad.
for all the good the surface chemistry kiryu and sayama has, its being undermined by a fundamental failure to understand tropes and then using said tropes as a crutch so much that everything here has become a bloody mess.
this failure of over-relying on tropes without understanding them extends to yumi too. sawamura yumi was young and beautiful, and became the Refined Housewife to the Not-Male-MC and ends up regretting it, and gets killed for it.
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her defining trait is that she is beautiful in subtext. thats. thats what the tattoo is. in a world where the tattoo makeths the person, thats what she is and all that she is.
dear lord.
ive read up a bit more on sayama and you know what. good that she chooses her career over kiryu. the romance would have caused both of their characters to explode with the trajectory this was heading in. ffs sayama could have had her own game. she has so MUCH potential.
and also GOOD that the writer is forced to think of kiryu in the position of the Stay At Home Parent for haruka and the orphanage down the line!!! subverting the fucking traditional BS expectation! yes!!!!!
all i got was sayama and kiryu making out before the bomb went off in front of my alcohol and salad while they're like 'eh, haruka will forgive us for dying :')'
and i ran out of alcohol.
sexism? maybe. incompetence? definitely.
hhgrhgrhrghrghrgrhgr wow this got long. ugh. guhhhhhh.
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suzannahnatters · 11 months ago
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And here are my reactions to Love Like the Galaxy: episodes 13-27, in which a cdrama does some absolutely terrific things I've never seen before which make me incredibly happy. This is also beneath the cut because I got very excited!
Tremendously diverted by how little this whole entire arrow through the chest is bothering our hero, one would think he'd broken a nail
Ling Buyi: I will tear apart this whole empire and everyone in my way to find out who is smuggling imperial weapons to rebels
also Ling Buyi: I am determined that only the very deepest love will ever induce me to marry
NN scolds a whole hospital full of sacking victims into drinking their medicine because how dare they lie around in pain and trauma when their loved ones died to keep them alive and it's another writing decision I'm not very fond of
the emperor is a gossipy old woman, he's discovered the secret of Murder General's heart in two minutes of screen time, I fondly look forward to episodes' worth of behind-the-scenes matchmaking
ahaha we have entered the "Niao Niao finally gets a boyfriend, and Murder General stares at the two of them sadly from a distance" section
he's just bowing himself out so silently, without ever saying a word - because he only wants to marry for love, so if NN doesn't want him, he doesn't want her
Marry the sweet boy, Niao Niao. He's not very bright, but the only baggage he's got is from the cake shop.
oh my, Niao Niao's boyfriend is sending her terrible mother snacks in an attempt to soften her heart, what a darling
I'm dead, not only does Murder General literally have a Niao Niao Memorabilia Hoard but he leaves it in his carriage for her to see while she's being given a lift in the rain askajdalfah
Niao Niao has dinner with with her three suitors and her aunt's ex and it's every bit as wildly uncomfortable as it sounds
also the Smug Scholar is here just to cause drama and wooow these are some epic sour grapes
It's a bit jarring how cavalierly everybody at this dinner dismisses the orphan girl in the backstory. The best thing I can say is that she fails to recognise one of the emerging themes of the show, that a woman shouldn't let love consume her entire life.
Murder General's family is straight out of Shakespeare - heartrendingly mad mother, moustache-twirlingly-evil estranged father.
meanwhile, over the Jane Austen side of the plot, Niao Niao's parents break the news to her that Murder General must be hopelessly in love with her. is this the worst way to find out or what
This whole mother-daughter relationship is so real it's triggering memories of a bad family situation I was familiar with around 5-10 years ago. Just…NN's mother not trusting her an inch, wanting to micromanage her life, despite all the ways that NN has bloomed away from her. Too painfully real.
Part of the reason this story feels SO Jane Austen is the way it focuses on the small domestic dramas of families, women, and marriage, with a keen eye to humour and satire. There's Murder General's political subplot too, but it's kept compartmentalised away from the main plot.
I…I think Murder General might be a darling, actually? when he's not mowing down the emperor's enemies in an overly dramatic manner or quietly and visibly pining, he is salving his broken heart by trying to make sure NN has everything she wants in life
and this is another place where this show neatly sidesteps a common pitfall - instead of HIM decided what's good for NN and then making sure she gets it despite her own wishes, he's allowing HER to decide and then silently providing her with everything she needs to make it a success.
I'm honestly astounded that this show is managing to make the typical strong, silent, commanding male lead…actually make sense as the endgame love interest, even in the presence of someone as charming and well adjusted (and devoted to snacks!) as Luo Yao. I honestly hadn't shipped them until this stretch of the show but now I'm beginning to.
He even credits her with "suppressing the mountain bandits" when he was the one who swooped in and saved her just as she was about to lose her siege T_T I'm sorry I have something in my eye
what WHAT WHATTTTT
having been informed of General Ling's feelings by her parents, is her maid now proposing to her on his behalf???????? wild
oh………he just wanted to know her hopes and dreams
Luo Yao has learned from Niao Niao how to fight for what he wants and it makes me so happy that this show is committing to these themes because the last big cdrama I watched was all about punishing the free-spirited heroine for wanting a life of her own
I feel hopelessly confused about all this arms smuggling subplot and backstory tbh
"don't be afraid, I'm here" asjkg love a good callback
also: good for you, He Zhaojun. good for you
It was also very satisfying seeing Bad Mum and our girl getting to fight together for once, but it's clearly only a temporary case of interests aligning and not a genuine change of heart for the former. I continue to enjoy the nuanced writing here.
Smug Scholar cracks me up. every interaction he has with our girl is like: NN: you make me feel sick SS preening yes I have that effect on a lot of women
Murder General telling NN that he's convinced that whatever decision she makes will be the right one!!!! and then for the first time she breaks down saying she's tired of always being the unlucky one - she's been fighting not to show any vulnerability and she's finally showing herself - to HIM eee
again: I'm ASTONISHED the show is making me believe he's the best choice for her given the presence of darling little snack boy but it is. She hasn't shown any vulnerability to Snacks. As for Murder General, he's been bleeding vulnerability everywhere silently for 21 eps.
"Everyone talks to me about righteousness and being fully considerate. But who will be fully considerate to me?" Snacks is a sweetie and he's doing really well, but the show is doing a terrific job of showing that for all his baggage, Murder General understands & supports her far more deeply.
I was wondering how the engagement with Snacks was going to end, & I have a lot of thoughts. On one hand, I really hate that after all the stuff about the importance of being able to fight for yourself, NN convinces LY to give her up & marry a girl who's already mistreated him, for the greater good
Snacks is absolutely correct here - none of the people telling him to marry He Zhaozhang can live the rest of his life for him. While NN always does prioritise the state above family, I hate that she is now putting it above somebody else's future happiness, AFTER teaching him to fight for himself.
It feels a bit hypocritical of NN, tbh, and like it muddles the themes of the show a bit. Also, it would be one thing if Snacks marrying HZ was to avert a future catastrophe, but the He family is already heroically dead and Snacks is being asked to self-immolate on their pyre. So unfair.
That said, I'm still appreciative of a lot about this. While I don't like that Snacks is deprived of agency here, you don't often see a drama heroine making this decision, & it's done without any of the "break his heart to save him" nonsense you'd usually see at this point.
We are also shown that although Snacks is giving in to marry HZ, he still has the lessons he's learned from NN about fighting for himself & plans to use them to make his life more bearable. And NN, though kinder & more respectful than HZ, never did truly love him.
I had my money on NN being the one to bow out all along, but I wish the show wasn't trying to make a virtue out of her self-righteous statism. I would love to see NN in the future realising that being able to let LY go like this, was a sign that she didn't truly love him. I hope!
In any case, I'm glad the show leaves us with real hope that Snacks is going to be a better, happier man for having known our girl.
"no need to worry about Miss Cheng's marriage. I'll be responsible for that" the SOUND I made
A LITTLE BOYFRIEND FOR YANG YANG, YESSSS
someone needed to come along and rescue our girl from Murder General's rescue just there, 1 out of 5 stars would not ask for a rescue again
does the man have fingertips made out of Velcro
the emperor is dying to matchmake Niao Niao and Murder General and tbh I feel his frustration, we have entered the "it's been eighty-five years" section of Waiting For The Cdrama Leads To Kiss (Or At Least Confess)
ahahahahahahahahahaha Murder General just blithely announces to all the princes that on account of the cancellation of NN's previous engagement he is going to marry her now and she goes into a coughing fit, hilarious
thing is, I don't think he actually means to be domineering here, I think he reckons the entire city in general and Niao Niao in particular must know about his intentions towards her, so why beat around the bush??? it's not like it's a secret or anything?
!!!! we have a proposal?!?!?!
and her mum is like NO NO NO oh die in a fire, woman
oh wow. oh wow. it's a trainwreck. oh my goodness.
"I had no idea I was so wonderful in your eyes" screaming crying throwing up
the fact that nearly their entire courtship has had to play out in public, carried by family members and households, until finally this proposal scene happens in the royal hall itself during a banquet, is just one more of the absolutely wonderful ways this is SO Austen-esque
I'm dying for these two to have a proper conversation in private but instead they've got to checks notes attend her ex-fiance's wedding together OOOOOOHH
This scene between He Zhaojun and NN is so good. I didn't expect such growth and change for this character based on her introduction. And she's absolutely right - a marriage to someone kind and gentle is far better than to someone elegant, but cruel
The writers making this point feels pretty unusual given a very usual sort of cdrama hero. But if course murder general is, as NN points out, cruel only to his enemies. Or is she in for some surprises? WE SHALL SEE
He certainly has no chill when it comes to using his more powerful position to protect her socially lollll
He's been protecting her so often it's beginning to deprive her of agency and I'm really hoping the story doesn't overlook this in the second half.
OH YES "he's standing up for you! Are you not happy" no, no she is not I AM BLESSED
I can't believe it they're finally having a chance to talk in private and it's ALL ABOUT THIS STUFF
NN just calling him out for his thoughtless use of power
Yessssss we've moved past the point where she can fight catty girls, she's fighting him now, AHHHHHHHH. so good
"let's eat together. No need to feel awkward. I am easy to get along with" amazing "hello fellow kids" energy
OH NO HE'S TRYING TO TELL A JOKE ABORT ABORT
Murder General, who has got straight As on everything in his life to date, getting an F in Intimate Family Dinners and thinking he's done splendidly is really…amazing
I see now how NN's conflict with her mother was setting up her conflict with Murder General - both want to run their families with dictatorial military discipline, and NN, who has had more than enough of it coming from her mother, definitely doesn't want it from a husband. NN I'm barracking for you
SCREAMING
Murder General has now taken over Niao Niao's household to train them so that his beloved will be strong and ready for anything. How bad is it? it's so bad that even Perfect Cousin Yang Yang no longer wants to be an obedient female anymore
the soundtrack for this drama seriously cracks me up sometimes. Most of the time it's lush, romantic classical strings and flutes. Then, BANG - 80's guitar + synths, or…jazz clarinet????
"I'm not used to discussing everything with someone yet" aw he does want to learn better!
"You represent only oppression in my life…I don't need you to take care of me and my family so much" I cannot beLIEVE this show is letting someone say this out loud. Amazing
Cannot believe she just sent him away like that. And of course he went because he only wants someone who loves him. And I think that's the one character detail that makes this man capable of change - he doesn't know how to relate to people outside hierarchy, but he WANTS it
I really, really like that the show doesn't try to gaslight NN that she's making a fuss out of nothing - her parents encourage her to compromise the life she truly wants, but even they aren't bad enough to tell her that this IS the life she wants.
And I also love that BOTH of them are shown reflecting on where they might be going wrong and why they might be better off yielding to the other person - not just NN.
It's delightfully reminiscent of Lizzie and Darcy getting a reality check in tandem after his first proposal. SO AUSTEN.
With episode 27 I've officially finished "season 1" of Love Like the Galaxy and am right around halfway through - and this show is fulfilling my wildest dreams of cdramas justifying tropes, letting the heroine have agency, and overtly calling out the hero's unthinking use of power to control, protect, and smother the heroine. All in a sparkling Jane-Austen-flavoured comedy of manners about a little gremlin girl whose greatest strength is fighting for herself when nobody else will, and a strong, silent murder general who has resolved only to marry for ~~ LOVE ~~
It's so good, if the second half continues to be this good it'll be a solid 10 for me. MORE TO COME.
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popart-vvv · 7 months ago
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This is a PSA...
FUCK THAT STUPID "PARODY" OF GOODBYE VOLCANO HIGH!
Why? Why?!
It was made by members of 4chan, the worst site on the internet BY FAR! The complete opposite of KO_OP--filled with right-wing rhetoric and intolerant of any piece of media that dares to be different! If you like the "parody game" and its related products, then you're saying that you support 4chan, warranting a block from me.
2. Lazy and unambitious design. GVH is all-around unique; high schoolers having to deal with the lead up to a cataclysmic event, deciding how to spend their time up to that event, and every character is an anthropomorphic dino. Plus, the game is a blend of rhythm and cinematic adventure, a novel choice in game design. Plus, the characters are all written like believable teens with understandable issues (the effects of the impending meteor, for instance), with plenty of non-forced conflict.
The OTHER game, meanwhile... stole the designs of the main characters and appropriated them into high school drama cliches, plus, the design for the main teacher blatantly rips off an Adult Swim character, for some reason. The worst part is the main character, though! It's just some muscly guy with a blank face! No eyes, mouth, hair, NOTHING ON THE HEAD! Goddammit, seriously, that is the WORST character design I have ever seen in my life!
Plus, THAT game is just another throwaway dating sim VN that can NEVER reach GVH's level.
3. LGBT ERASURE! THIS. IS. WHY. YOU SHOULD NOT LIKE THE GAME!
GVH's main characters are queer one way or another: Fang is non-binary, Rosa is a transgender woman, Sage is a transgender man, and it's possible for Fang to enter a relationship with Naomi. Reed is also hinted to be in a relationship with a male classmate, Alvin. Plus, there is some subtext regarding the pairings of Trish/Rosa and Sage/Stella, as well as in Naser's arc.
Meanwhile... THAT game is basically a vehicle by its creators to espouse 4chan bullshit. Fang is an enby when you first meet them, but their "happy ending" has the player character convince them to detransition. RED FLAG! RED FLAG! And the only endings where they stay an enby are the ones that don't give them any respect! This is bad messaging! Apparently, they're saying that the only way to find happiness in life is to throw away your queer identity! FUCK THAT SHIT!
Again, that is huge disrespect towards a likeable representation of an enby.
Note: Rosa, Sage, and Naomi's queer characteristics were envisioned DURING the rewrite, so it was after THAT game was revealed. Make of that what you will.
4. It blatantly disrespects KO_OP, and frankly, the company does not deserve it.
Goodbye Volcano High was released in August of last year, but it was actually revealed as far back as summer 2020. It was VASTLY different back then--it was more like a traditional visual novel, except with the same anthropomorphic dinos and unique designs. By the time GVH was released, it had gone through a huge story rewrite, resulting in the final product.
Unfortunately, there's a whole backstory in the development of GVH.
2020 was when COVID-19 was ravaging the world, and KO_OP's workers were struggling with the disease, putting a major dent in the game's production and delaying it for a while.
Also, the rewrite started not long after the game was revealed. Admittedly, this was due to a mistake on KO_OP's part in their choice of a writing crew, but the writing team was replaced, so good on them.
Also during development, they were harassed by 4chan and other unsavory people, culminating in THAT game. Basically, there's an undercurrent of PTSD--on the KO_OP Discord, if you bring up THAT game or any other hugely offensive content, you'll get a warning or a ban. Is it any wonder they hate THAT game?
Also, as I mentioned in a previous post, KO_OP should be admired for withstanding all that crap and releasing GVH three years after its initial announcement, the payoff being that it has its own dedicated fanbase and was nominated in three major awards ceremonies. Like GLAAD!
5. Real-World Events
Probably the worst part is that THAT game has a fanbase, even after a terribly heartbreaking event in February.
Two words: Nex Benedict.
Seriously, to still support that game, even in light of similar tragedies... That's inhumane.
*sigh*
I know this kind of post may not be your cup of tea, but I needed to get this off my chest. I love this game so much... It pains me to see that a supportive game, alongside its fans and creators, is being unfairly targeted by terrible people.
I stand by what I said in this post. I did my research before making this essay. That said, if there are any inaccuracies in here, I apologize.
However, I will not tolerate anyone who tries to argue in support of THAT game. If they do that, they get reported/blocked.
Sincerely, popart-vvv.
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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago
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The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore
Volume 2
Fanfics that I am currently reading or re-read because they’re that good!! 😊
This list is for those aged 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they are there for a reason.
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Crawling Back to You Author: @prolix-yuy
(Dieter Bravo x female reader) There’s a secret that Hollywood has been keeping from us that explains so much. Found out I find horns sexy.
This Charming Man
Author: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin
(Frankie Morales x OFC Camilla) No one said Frankie had to be good all the time. To be fair, he's had some major life events. He's unhinged but also sweet. He's got layers. Some of the layers are concerning. Make sure to check the warnings before reading. Dark fluff!
Dr. WeVibe; or How Dieter Bravo Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Remote Vibrator
Author: @imalrightllama (Dieter Bravo x female reader {established relationship}, Dieter Bravo x female reader x male soft Dom, Dieter Bravo x male soft Dom) This is smut. It has evolved into ultra smut and eventually reaches super ultra smut. There's also toy use. You have to read it to understand.
Opia Author: @artemiseamoon
(Ezra x black female reader) A woman's journey for a payday leads her to meet Ezra under less than ideal circumstances. The bond they form is life-long.
Kinktober 2023 Author: @palioom
Thirty one days of October - thirty one different fics each with their own theme to sink your eyeballs into. Make sure to double check warnings.
going slow Author: @ezrasbirdie
(Javier Peña x female reader) An issue that no one really speaks about but can make sexual intimacy extremely difficult. Thankfully, Javier Peña is a sweetheart and willing to take it at the reader's pace.
anytime Author: @undercoverpena
(Javier Peña x female reader) Reader and Javier have been friends for years. Seen each other through the best and worst of times. Javier's mind is rattled and there always seems to be one thing or person rather that settles him.
I like the way you Author: @undercoverpena
(Frankie Morales x female reader) Reader is friends with Frankie. An offhand remark leads a becoming friends with benefits. What could go wrong? Feelings? No one agreed to that.
When the west was wild Author: @boliv-jenta
(Silva x OFC) Nine part story about a woman living alone in the west. An injured strange changes her life, for better, for worse? Read and find out.
Be all and Endor Jyr’ika Author: @djarins-cyare
(Din Darin x OFC) An epic love story told over 40 chapters. Use the bathroom, get a blanket and get comfy, there's reading to be done.
Darkness Author: @ezrasbirdie
(Ezra x female reader) We all know Ezra has explored many ways, things and positions. One that he has not explored is our reader. He's a bit scuzzy, but a gentleman - mostly. You gotta invite him in, give him the ok.
Moonlit Serenades Author: @geminimoonbeamx
(Poe Dameron x plus size female reader) Poe needs some comfort after a tough mission that only the reader can provide.
Headshots Author: @secretelephanttattoo
(Marcus Pike x OFC Ella) Turns out reader's new job as a photographer for the FBI changes her path in life forever. The job was temporary but the relationship was for life.
The Gift Author: @mandoisapunk
(Javier Peña x female reader) Sweet Javier Peña fluff. Reader's gift to Javi is life changing. I'm not crying, you are!
An American in Paris Author: @absurdthirst
(Ezra x female reader) If you ever wondered what Ezra would be doing in the late 1940's after WWII. Our man went to Paris where he meets the reader. This pic had me at Ezra in Paris and then held on to me tight and tossed my feelings around like a rag doll.
To hold you tonight Author: @iamasaddie
(Marcus Pike x female reader) Dark! Marcus has a very dark spin in this one shot. He also has a love a statues that extends to the reader. Please read the warnings before reading.
Full of colors. Author: @trulybetty
(Tim Rockford x female reader) Tim’s working a difficult case, you’ve got work piled on the table. Quality time is needed. A walk-in shower is a treat.
Dry Run Author: @chronically-ghosted
(Javier Peña x female reader) Anyone who may have questioned if dancing with THE Javier Peña in a club was sexy or not - your answer is here.
Tired Author: @javierpena-inatacvest
(Javier Peña x female reader) It’s date night for you and your husband Javier Peña. Everything that could have gone wrong, has. You are stressed out. Date night was not what you’d planned at all.
Diosa Hermosa Author: @fhatbhabie
(Javier Peña x plus size female reader) Javier finds the reader to be the sexiest vision he could see in the museum.
Preciously Plump Author: @melodygatesauthor
(Santiago Garcia x plus size female reader) Our reader is a bit self-conscious, Santiago has her get over that quickly.
Dirty Secrets Author: @absurdthirst
(Dave York x female reader) Your husband Dave is suspicious about your change in behavior. He endeavors to find out the reason why.
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dreamerfms · 2 months ago
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[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { kai finnegan } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { he } is ? they kind of look like { alex fitzalan } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 28 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { twelve years }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { jess mariano } from { gilmore girls }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { - } as a { arcade attendant/musician }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { the sombre soul } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { unpredictable } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { creative } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { three room } apartment beside me over in { sunny shores }.
full name : kai finnegan birthplace : portstewart, northen ireland date of birth : 05 / 07 / 1997 parentage : john finnegan & aofie finnegan ( estranged ) sibling(s) : twin, maeve finnegan occupation : arcade attendant. guitarist/singer/songwriter relationship status : single gender identity : cis male ( he/him ) sexual orientation : pansexual faceclaim : alex fitzalan
BACKGROUND
tw: cheating, teen pregnancy, homophobia & public outing, anxiety & depression.
kai and maeve were born to two teen parents barley turned sixteen themselves. while still so young they both decided to keep their children and start a life together. for many years that life was happy despite many struggles. as a young boy, all kai knew was that his parents were content and happy. it seemed like nothing could burst their family dynamic.
john was a photographer, quickly gaining notoriety for his work in fashion. a lot of kai's spare days would be spent on sets with his father, and while he showed an interest in photography himself, his main passions lay in music and writing. always had a way with words ... so long as they were being written down and not spoken.
aofie was a stay at home mother until the twins started high school, at this point she got a job at the local council office as a receptionist. whilst working here she began to realize how bored she'd been, and when on of her male colleagues began to get to know her, things would take a turn the rest of the family would never see coming.
aofie would embark on a year-long affair which would eventually lead her to leave her husband and move out of this family home. this caused total devastation, trust shattered and bonds broken. seeing how heartbroken his father was, kai could no longer stand to look at his mother and soon all communication was cut. the worst part being that she never really fought to stay in their lives.
when kai turned fifteen his father would be offered a job in a whole other country. kai was hesitant to leave, enjoyed his quiet little life by the beach and the friends he had. but feeling like it may bring his father some new happiness, he reluctantly agreed.
fifteen and starting a new school in a country he'd never been to before, kai struggled, thankful to at least have his sister by his side. but friends were difficult to make for a boy who preferred his own company most of the time. who was rarely ever seen without a pair of headphones over his ears. but one friend came, a boy named jj. but this friendship would bring him two things: his first taste of love, and his second dose of heartbreak.
the closer the two boys became, the more it became clear that there was more there than just friendship. eventually they became an item. a secret one. jj's father an important figure in town with a lot of unkind opinions- he wouldn't be happy to discover his son was gay. and so they hid it well, until someone caught wind of what was going on. the truth being out there should have been a relief, but instead it was hell.
not only was his own sexuality outed before he even had the time to process it, but jj turned his back. betrayed him in ways he isn't sure he'll ever get over. instead of dealing with it together, jj told everyone that kai had come onto him, pressured him into things. this lie made the last few years of high school a living nightmare, with kai being shunned due to jj's popularity even if many didn't believe the stories he'd spun.
the only outlet he had was music and writing, and still to this day they're what he clings to most. but the things he's been through have made him extremely avoidant.
FACTS
always has headphones on, or hanging around his neck. he can appear very rude at times because if he doesn't like the way a conversation is going ( or more likely bc he's anxious ) he will put them on and turn his music up, ignoring you entirely.
he loves the beach. whilst it's vastly different from the one back home, it still makes him feel very connected. it's for sure his favourite place to clear his head.
he's in an alt rock band ( name tbd )
is sadly very prone to anxiety and bouts of depression.
he's very self-sabotaging without really meaning to be.
more tba.
WANTED
a best friend - preferably someone slightly opposite, who can bring him out of his shell and drag him along to things. roommates ( 2 ) - genuinely think about mix of personalities could be fun. a more recent ex - he struggles to let people in emotionally so it was probably a shitshow, but the fact he even tried says a lot. past/current hookups / bandmates / friends / someone he butts heads with bc he can be a sarcastic little fuck / idk idk it's late. oh a select few he has been friends with since high school bc i'd love some connections of people who stuck with him despite false rumours.
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thebisexualdogdad · 1 year ago
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Thea Queen x Red Hood male reader headcannons?
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Thea Queen x Male!reader
● after the whole dying and coming back to life thing you decided to leave Gotham and start fresh somewhere new
● you heard about the arrow and his team and thought you'd head out west to check out what they were all about
● you met Thea when jumping in to assist them in a fight and immediately started flirting with her
● "Who the hell are you?"
● "I'm whoever you want me to be sweetheart and can I just say red looks even better on you than it does on me"
● "I hate him already"
● except after only two missions with the team you were already sleeping together
● you weren't allowed to tell anyone that you were hooking up
● felicity was the only one who figured out what was happening
● Felicity "I wonder when they are going to tell us they are hooking up"
● Diggle "what are you talking about? They aren't hooking up they hate each other"
● "they are definitely hooking up, I think arguing is a kink for them"
● the day finally comes when you're arguing about you being too reckless
● "why do you even care so much Thea?!"
● "Because I love you, you asshole!"
● this leads to really intense 'I love you' sex and making your relationship official
● and telling the rest of the team
● Diggle "oh damn, Felicity was right"
● Felicity proudly "told you"
● you two are the ultimate red superhero power couple
● when she finds out about your history with the Lazarus pit
● "is there anyone this thing hasn't resurrected??"
● Oliver hates seeing her on your motorcycle
● "So I can be a vigilante but I can't ride on my boyfriends motorcycle?"
● "I'd prefer if you didn't do either but I can't seem to change your mind about the first one so the least you can do is give me a little peace of mind with the second"
● she doesn't
● you love not having to pay for drinks at the Verdant
● Thea "you know you're gonna run my bar dry if you keep drinking everything from the top shelf"
● "Hey we don't have any clubs this clean in Gotham and im taking advantage of it, back home you're lucky if the only thing a bar is infested with is cockroaches"
● sparring together
● she surprised you with how good at hand to hand combat she is
● "damn Thea, now I know why they call you speedy, you dodged all of my punches"
● and another time she knocked you down and landed on top of you
● "batman would be so disappointed to see me in this position"
● "really because I thought you liked me being on top" she says with a smirk
● Thea felt so bad when she accidently sent an arrow into your shoulder during a mission
● "Oh my god Y/N I'm so sorry I thought you were one of the bad guys"
● "Thea it's okay, I died remember, an arrow isn't the worst pain I've ever experienced"
● her gently tracing your scars when you're lying in bed together
● Dick and Tim came to visit you one weekend when they found out a new drug on the streets of Gotham and Bludhaven were being sourced from Star City
● and to meet Thea because they never expected you to have a serious relationship
● part of them thought you were lying and Thea didn't actually exist
● Dick "so you must be Thea, Y/N has told us so much about you, I hope you're keeping him in line"
● Thea "oh trust me, Y/N loves when I order him around"
● Tim "didn't need to know that, so about this drug-"
● when the mission is over you take your brothers to the club before they go back home
● they have a great time but halfway through the night you've disappeared to hook up with Thea in her office
● Dick to Oliver "Hey have you seen Y/N, he left to get me another drink an hour ago"
● Oliver "yeah when Y/N and Thea both disappear you usually don't want to know what they are doing"
● Thea buying you a brand new knife when yours breaks
● this one also has 'red hood' engraved on it
● "babe, this might be the nicest thing anyone has ever given me"
● "I should find that endearing but I know by tonight you will have used it to stab someone with"
● "you're not wrong"
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intangiblyyours · 2 years ago
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7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy!
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Alright guys, light novel/manga recommendation time! I don’t do this often (or at all really) but when I do, it’s because I’m very passionate about it. 😤
WARNING: Not spoiler free. Using images from both the light novel and manga.
There’s been a trend of “villainous” anime/manga being released recently, and while I love them and they all have their personal charms, this one takes the cake for me.
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Our main lead is Rishe, who returns to the moment her fiancé breaks their engagement each time she dies, and she has been inevitably dying at the age of 20 in every iteration. She retains her memories and skills, with the exception of her strength and stamina. Our story is set in her 7th cycle.
Rishe is determined to make the most of her life each time with the goal of prolonging her life if possible. As she searches for the quickest exit after her break up, she runs into our male lead, Arnold Hein. Who happens to also be her killer in her 6th life as a knight.
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And you know what he does? He proposes to her (for reasons).
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Rishe knows fully well that the smallest actions can change the course of her life drastically, so she ends up accepting knowing that she’ll never open up this path again. In every cycle, her death has been related to the war Arnold Hein wages in five years. Perhaps as his fiancée/wife this time, she’ll be able to prevent the war and live beyond 20 years of age.
Cue one of the cutest love story ever. I am a sucker for “cold” characters having a soft spot for the love of their life, and this is no exception. Plus, you add Rishe with a skill level of 999 facing off with the most formidable man in the world, trying to out play her soon-to-be-husband, and he let’s her. He let’s her scheme her schemes with the condition that she keeps herself safe. And he is smitten.
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Our two leads are so likable and the premise, despite having several tropes involved, has a good bit of originality in it. I like having my fair share of female/male leads having heaps of flaws, but these two do not (for good reasons), which could be seen as a con but not for me in this scenario. Rishe is a very headstrong character that is determined to live her life the way she wants to, and Arnold supports her through and through. Their mutual respect and intrinsic trust in each other is what makes their dynamic so wonderful.
Also:
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And:
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These two having me swooning. Plus, the art for both the light novel and manga is gorgeous. I’ve heard they might be doing an anime adaptation??? Can’t wait. 10/10 recommend!!!
(Okay, my one complaint is I’m unsure if Touka Amekawa is still writing this? Says there are 4 volumes but the 4th was released in November 2021 in Japan and it’s listed as ongoing. Does anyone know anything about this?)
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heliads · 2 years ago
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(Toms Peter x male reader) AGAIN OBLIVIOUS SMART READER, but this time with a little angst twist 😍…I hope— Onto the actual request. Peter making obvious efforts even flirting and taking the reader on a date once, peter thinking theirs something going on and calls the reader his boyfriend to which the reader asks shocked and surprise and Peter being embarrassed walks out (not sure which location you can fill this in) and a saddened and hurt Peter blows up on reader asking what is their relationship and if he’s just been leading him on which quickly calms down cause of everyone looking at them, and Peter just walks away and reader explains everything ( sorry this long ily)
a little angst twist? oh ho ho anon say no more (and never apologize for long requests i adore details)
masterlist
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Peter Parker is oddly happy, and it’s really starting to freak you out. Usually, Peter showing some semblance of a positive emotion wouldn’t be that much of a surprise; you’ve seen him giddy over things as mundane as bonus time in a chemistry lab, but this is different. 
You can’t explain this sudden change in his attitude towards the world. It felt like it came out of nowhere. One day, he was the same Peter as always, the best friend you’ve known and laughed with since the two of you were small, and then something shifted and it’s like he won the lottery for all of life’s little victories. 
You’re not one to deny Peter his happiness if he can get it. This suspicion of yours doesn’t stem from you wanting to tear him down to some terrible state again. You’ve seen him after rough missions, how his entire frame seems to shrink by a good couple of inches when he feels that he’s failed. Peter has always been far too hard on himself, and if he’s doing better now, who are you to take that from him?
No, you couldn’t be more delighted to see Peter growing into himself like this. You just want to know why it’s happening. You and Peter have been good friends for a very, very long time. There is no secret that exists between the two of you, no rambling thought that goes unsaid. If something has changed in Peter’s life to make him this happy, he would tell you. Always. Or, he used to, and if anything’s affected that to the point where he feels like he can’t share it, you would be hurt more than you can possibly describe. 
The worst part is that Peter seems to have no idea that he hasn’t clued you into his change in situation. In fact, he seems to be suffering under the delusion that he already has. Every time you see Peter, he seems to hint at some cataclysmic event that you would surely know about. The fact that you don’t know it simply hasn’t occurred to him. 
Maybe, some little vicious voice in your head whispers to you, maybe he’s so happy because you don’t know. Because he’s got something good in his life that doesn’t involve you. That thought alone cuts more than any blade, because Peter has been yours for quite some time now, and if he’s someone else’s now, someone who isn’t you, you’d like to never think about that again.
That’s the problem of being a best friend, you suppose. You have a distinctive role to follow, specific shoes to fill. You’ll patch up Peter when he comes through your bedroom window at midnight, Spider-Man suit torn and wounds bleeding. You’ll listen to him ramble about a show he saw when you would much rather be finishing your physics notes. You will acknowledge that you will only ever be a side character in his life, someone who will one day be replaced by someone better. Someone he loves.
See, you’ve always been a little too eager to take what you want. You managed to delude yourself into thinking that you could be Peter’s best friend and love him too, and that is where you went wrong. You’re going to listen to him, and be by his side like nothing ever happened, but never, ever tell him how you truly feel. Maybe one day soon Peter will finally explain why he’s so happy. Maybe that reason will involve another person he can love more than you. Maybe that’ll be the day you finally lose your mind.
Until then, you are content with still having claim over at least some small part of Peter’s life. The two of you walk to and from school together, your paths only diverging when Peter goes to patrol and you go home. You eat lunch with him, you choose him as lab partner every time, and through it all, you understand Peter no more than you did at the beginning of all this when you first noticed that something had changed.
It unsettles you, you can admit that freely. You have always known Peter better than anyone, better than yourself. You can take one look at him and understand what’s going on in his head, you always have. So why can’t you do it now? Why can’t you figure him out just like any other day in the great stretch of years you’ve had with him?
Peter, for his part, remains unaffected by whatever turmoil is making a muck of your head and heart. He smiles more. He laughs harder. It’s easier for him to make it through a night without getting nightmares of the people he’s lost; although Peter never tells you that to your face, you can tell by the way the bags under his eyes have shrunk that something has improved. 
Whatever person has entered Peter’s life to change him for the better, no matter how much you resent them for likely replacing you at some point soon, you do send them a silent thank-you for that. Peter needs his rest. It might not come with you, but at least someone can coax peace out of him.
Peter lingers by your desk after class one morning. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” he says carefully.
“Yeah,” you reply, one eyebrow raised, “that is how the day after Friday usually works.”
Peter rolls his eyes, swatting you on the shoulder with a flier. “You’re insufferable. Anyway, are you still on for caffeine and calculus?”
You grin. “Aren’t I always?”
You and Peter have had a long-standing agreement between the two of you, a permanent reservation of your time. Every Saturday morning without fail, you meet up at one of your houses to go over that week’s homework, usually accompanied by coffee or tea or something else to make the study session feel more enjoyable. You alternate whose residence will be host to your caffeine-fuelled ramblings, and tomorrow, it’s Peter’s turn to play homeowner.
Secretly, you feel a spark of cruel pride flare to life in your chest. Whoever’s out there making Peter smile like a second sunrise, they clearly haven’t yet claimed enough of Peter’s time to get rid of your Saturday morning gatherings. No, those are still yours. It might not be that way forever, but it is for now. That’s certainly worth celebrating.
Peter nods, a nervous grin on his face. “Sounds good to me. Hey, what do you say we meet up somewhere else instead? There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from here that has really good lattes, I figure we could go out this time.”
He rocks back and forth on his heels, clearly fixated on your answer. You shrug, tossing a few more papers into your backpack before you zip it up and sling it onto your shoulder. “That would be nice. What, are you panicking because you forgot to clean your room or something, is that why we’re going somewhere else? Whatever the state of that place is, you have to know that I’ve seen it worse.”
Peter groans, his cheeks starting to flush a mottled pink. “No, you idiot, it’s not because of that. Thanks for the faith in my cleaning abilities, by the way. This is just because I feel like what we have is good enough to make public, you know? It would be fun. We could do it.”
“Yeah,” you say slowly, still not entirely sure what about this proposition is enough to warrant the clear amount of nerves racing through Peter’s entire frame, “I think we could. See you then.”
“See you then,” Peter repeats. 
The second you confirm that you’re fine with his plans, his entire disposition seems to brighten, going from churning with nerves to utterly confident. You wave goodbye to him, then head to your next class, shaking your head slightly with confusion. What is going on with him?
You suppose you’ll figure that out tomorrow. The rest of the school day passes in the normal fashion; each class seems to take hours, but soon enough you’re racing out the doors with everyone else. You and Peter part ways, and then you’re left to mess about at home until nightfall.
Peter’s waiting outside your door the next morning. He looks slightly different, and it takes you a moment or so to realize why. He’s dressed nicer than usual, no pun t-shirts or science factoids printed across his clothing. Peter’s wearing his good shoes, a cleanly pressed shirt under a sweater, everything he usually only dons for important meetings. You wonder what’s going on to make him think that today was something worth this much celebration. After all, it’s just another study session, right?
You and Peter make easy conversation while he leads you to the coffee shop. You place your orders once inside and grab a table. Sitting down, you glance towards your backpack. “Should I get the stuff out?”
“Sure,” Peter begins, but he’s interrupted by his phone vibrating with an incoming call. He checks the caller ID and makes a face. “Sorry, I’m going to need to get that. It’s May, I got back late last night and she hasn’t seen me in like a full 24 hours, which tends to make her a little overprotective.”
You laugh. “No problem. Tell her I say hi.”
Peter flashes you a thumbs up and accepts the call. You slow your rummaging through your bag as he speaks, trying not to make too much noise lest you disturb the call. It’s not like you’d be interrupting anything major, though. Judging by Peter’s responses, this is just May Parker checking in to make sure her nephew isn’t in Spider-Man trouble and in need of help.
“No, May, I’m great,” Peter is saying, “We talked about today, remember?”
A distant muffled question issues back over the phone, and, given Peter’s exasperated expression, this must be May saying that she doesn’t remember at all.
“I’m at the coffee shop,” Peter reminds her, “you know, with my boyfriend? He says hi, by the way.”
For some reason, Peter looks over at you as he says this. It’s as if he’s twisting a knife in your chest, because even though you have only just overheard mere words, you suddenly feel as if you could start choking on blood. His boyfriend. Peter’s boyfriend. So there is another person in his life. You had hoped that your fears were just that, simple conjecture, but perhaps you were right to worry after all.
Peter hangs up a few seconds later, utterly unaware of the fact that he’s just made your heart fall through your chest to the floor below. “Sorry about that,” he repeats, “Adults, you know? Can’t handle the fact that we might actually want to do stuff of our own accord.”
“Do you want me to go?” You ask, heart racing, “I didn’t realize you had plans, Peter, you should have told me. If I stay too long, am I going to interrupt him?”
Peter frowns, brow furrowed with confusion. “What? No, don’t go. We just got here, why would you leave?”
You gesture vaguely between the phone and him. “I heard what you said on the phone to May, you’re meeting your boyfriend here. When is he coming? I don’t want to mess with your schedule if that’s happening right after this.”
Peter snorts. “Very funny, Y/N. Anyway, what were you saying earlier? Something about getting stuff?”
You shake your head. “No, really, Peter, when is the guy coming? I don’t want to third wheel your date.”
Peter’s humor leaves him. “Y/N. My boyfriend’s already here.”
You glance around, suddenly suspicious of anyone and everyone in the shop. “He is? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Peter leans forward slightly. “Y/N, this isn’t funny anymore.”
“I know,” you say without a small touch of bitterness, “I know. Just answer the question, please? If I have to leave early, I don’t want to spend this much time arguing.”
Peter’s face has changed again, somehow empty of emotion and full of something terrible all at the same time. “You’re the boyfriend. You know that. Stop playing around.”
Your expression constricts before you can stop yourself. “What?”
Peter scoffs. “God, I can’t believe you’re doing this. We’re dating, Y/N. I asked you out. You know that. If you didn’t want to be public, fine, but don’t tell me now. Hell, if you really don’t want to face it with people around, that’s great. I’ll go, you can keep pretending.”
He stands in a rush, almost upsetting his coffee cup. Grabbing his phone from the table in one quick snatch, he all but knocks over his chair in his clear need to get out. You sit there in a daze until you hear the bell in the door aggressively chime with Peter’s departure, and then your senses come hurtling back towards you all at once.
You need to fix this, now. You may not have a single clue what’s going on, but you do know this: you cannot leave Peter hating you. Your chair rocks on its back legs as you push away from the table and follow Peter out. He hasn’t made it far, so you’re able to catch up without too much difficulty. Peter looks angry when you cut him off, but he doesn’t push past you, so you count that as a victory, however small. 
“I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me,” he says snidely. 
You sigh, the exhale just as harsh as his words. “I didn’t know,” you begin, but Peter cuts you off. 
“Of course you did. How could you not? I asked if you wanted to be more than friends weeks ago. Why are you only now pretending like this is something completely foreign to you?”
“Because it is,” you say weakly, “I have no idea when you asked me. Truly, I don’t. You know that. You know I would never do something like this. Please, just tell me when this happened.”
Peter’s countenance remains doubtful, but he indulges you and explains. “It was about three weeks ago. We were staying up late for that computer science assignment. You know, the one that took forever? I was trying to muster up my courage to ask you all night, and then I did, and you agreed.”
You wrack your brain trying to remember that moment. You and Peter had pulled an all-nighter to finish a coding project, and although you finally managed to get it down, your brain had shut down more and more as the hours progressed. At some point in time, Peter had turned to you and asked you something, something about how he really liked being your friend, something about how wouldn’t it be strange if you could be more–
“No,” you whisper desperately, “no, that wasn’t– I didn’t–”
“You didn’t know?” Peter asks, lips pursed.
You spin away from him, not needing to look him in the eyes to know how disappointed he is in you. “I didn’t,” you repeat, “I thought you were just asking if we were best friends instead of regular friends or something. I had no idea you meant any of this.”
“This?” Peter presses, “I’m assuming by ‘any of this’ that you don’t want to continue on as more than friends. Guess I misread that one by a mile.”
You whirl back around frantically. “No, no. Peter, I’ve been wanting something like this for months. Years, maybe. I just didn’t think that you would want it too. I didn’t want to get my hopes up for nothing, you know?”
Peter remains frustratingly, desperately still. “So you would want to date?”
“Yes,” you answer him, “I would. I really would.”
He hesitates a moment longer, than that same bright smile you’ve been seeing all this time shines onto his face. It occurs to you now that you’ve been puzzling over the source of his happiness for so long and it’s been you all the while. What a wonderful thought.
“I thought you’d never say it,” he whispers.
“Of course I would,” you reply, “it just might take me a while, you know?”
“That’s alright,” Peter says, “just as long as you mean it.”
“I do,” you promise him, and just like that you know it’s going to be alright. Peter believes you, of course he does. The two of you have believed in each other for quite some time now. It’s good to know that you’ll carry on in that vein for a very long time again.
marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver
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