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remembrancer-of-heresy · 4 months ago

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Emperor's Children have a sex drive

Boom! This is canon. It took me to read a lot of literature and write down all the hints, but it was worth it.

Here we go ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

First of all, we need to start with Julius Kaeseron, who experienced sexual attraction to Bequa, and later to the demonette. Fun fact. In my native language, because of the translation, not only Julius appreciated the delights of the composer, but also Lucius, lol.

JULIUS WATCHED WITH barely contained excitement as the blue haired composer crossed the stage and descended into the orchestra pit to take her place on her conductor’s podium. Dressed in a scandalously translucent dress of gold and crimson, the gossamer thin material hung with precious stones that glittered like stars. The cut of her dress plunged from her shoulders to her pelvis, the swell of her breasts and the hairlessness of her flesh clearly visible beneath. ‘Magnificent!’ cried Fulgrim, clapping furiously with the audience at Bequa’s appearance, and Julius was amazed to see tears in his eyes. Julius nodded, and though he had no real memory of feminine splendour or any frame of reference against which to compare her, the composer’s curves and obvious womanhood stole away his breath. Julius had felt such stirrings of emotion when he gazed upon his primarch, heard a particularly inspiring piece of music or went into battle, but to feel his senses aroused by a mortal woman was a new experience for him.

Bequa Kynska thrashed like a lunatic atop her conductor’s podium, jabbing and slashing the air with her baton, her hair a wild comet of blue as it whipped around her head. Julius tore his eyes from the magnificent sight of her and looked out over the audience to witness its reaction to this sublime, raucous music.

And yes, in all of these examples, you can see that Julius doesn't just find the girl and the demonette beautiful. He notes that he was delighted by femininity. Moreover, he even calls it seductive. Seductive. Not the most commonly used word in the Space Marine vocabulary.

Julius had never seen anything so simultaneously beautiful and repellent, a naked female creature that evoked both a potent loathing, and a perverse sensuality that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Hair like needle horns swept back from her oval face, with its green, saucer-like eyes, fanged mouth and luscious lips. Her body was sculpted perfection, lithe and sensuous, but with only a single breast, and her skin was loathsomely tattooed and pierced. Each of her arms terminated in a long crab-like claw of glistening red chitin and moist flesh. Despite the lethal claws, the creature was disturbingly seductive, and Julius felt moved in a way he had not been since he had been elevated to the ranks of the Astartes. She moved with languid, cat-like grace, her every movement redolent with sexuality and the promise of dark pleasures and excesses unknown to the minds of mortal men. Julius ached to taste them.

And here you can see that the space marines did not yet know how to unleash their emotions. How to have pleasure other ways than battle:

The Astartes too were swept up in the surging power generated by the Maraviglia. Blood was spilled as the emotions of the Astartes were overloaded with sensational excess, and were vented in the only way men bred as warriors knew how. An orgy of killing spread from the stage, blood running in rivers as the power of the music thundered through La Venice.

But they learn quickly and start trying a lot of different things. This can be clearly seen in "Reflection Is Cracked". And yes, there is even a special place for more intimate things:

"Which was not to say that the observation deck went unused. Those who imbibed the toxically hallucinogenic cocktails brewed by Apothecary Fabius found enlightenment in its infinite vistas, and many indulged their freshly awakened carnal hungers with vicarious feasts of flesh and blades. Discarded bodies and torn heaps of broken glass lay strewn throughout the bay, and the occasional moan issued from a jumbled pile of clothing and leather restraints."

The same story mentions that they had fun with prisoners on one of the planets for several days. At first, one company abused the slaves, later handing them over to another.

During the Siege of Terra, the Emperor's Children also tortured mortals. Moreover, it is not specified exactly how. If this were ordinary literature, then “more direct and crude enjoyment” could be perceived as a, ahem, dubious agreement. But since Warhammer 40k is here, use your imagination.

Simple pleasures had given way to complex debaucheries. While their allies fought and died the Emperor’s Children slaughtered more than a million people and rendered them down to create endless varieties of drugs and stimulants. Countless thousands more died to give the Emperor’s Children more direct, if cruder, enjoyment.

How exactly did they have fun? Not specified. But I think that everything was there. And yes, this is an important point.

In Angel Exterminatus, Julius even emphasizes that they began to experience pleasure in EVERYTHING. They began to look for pleasure in all things.

The Lords of Profligacy had lifted the suffocating veils of the mundane from their eyes and shown them unlimited worlds of sensation and indulgence. Undreamed vistas of excess in all things: noise, music, bloodshed, hedonism, torture, violence, adoration and most of all, worship. Every second not spent indulging desires declared taboo in an earlier age was a waste of life, and Julius Kaesoron had long since declared that no act of indulgence would remain beyond his grasp.

And yes, sexual attraction is a matter for every person. While most Space Marines will be attracted to ladies, some will look at men. Yes, I can nitpick, but c'mon, just read this passage:

Lonomia Ruen detached himself from the advance, and Lucius cursed. Since the death of Bastarnae Abranxe, Ruen had transferred his cultish adoration to Lucius. For a while it had been an interesting diversion to have a slavish devotee, but Lucius was already tiring of the man’s desperate need. ‘Your body is a wonder,’ said Ruen.

In the first book about Fabius Bile, a lot is described about how the Emperor's Children have fun on the ship:

The observation deck had become a place of contemplation and experimentation for the masters of the Quarzhazat. A place to indulge in pleasures of body and mind. Slaves bearing immense narcotic generators staggered to and fro, filling the air with a pleasant fug. Emperor’s Children sat on marble benches looted from Imperial temples and eldar crone worlds, or lounged on cushions made from the flayed hides of prisoners, speaking softly to one another of past debaucheries and future ecstasies. They wagered on gladiatorial bouts, watching as unlucky crewmembers gutted each other with rusty blades or, in some cases,hands and teeth. Elsewhere, the crude gutter-poetry of lost Nostromo warred with ear-splitting songs culled from the manufactorums of Chemos and Cthonia. The more artistically inclined among them painted obscene murals on the wall and deck. Armour was peeled away from flesh, so that brands could be applied, or the bite of a tattooist’s needle.

And here we see this:

In the shadows, more intimate entertainments were being enjoyed, to judge by the screams of slave and Space Marines alike. The smell of blood and worse was strong on the air.

Moreover, their leader clearly loves his daemonettes too much. These are the interesting hints you can find in books.

The Radiant seemed to enjoy these occasional slaughters, and openly encouraged them, when he wasn’t leading a hunt or consorting with his Neverborn courtesans.

Oleander really distinguished himself, since apparently he started an affair with Fabius' daughter Melusine:

Oleander, it crackled. It has been so long, my love... come to me... come... He took a halting step forward, despite himself. Desire surged up in him, rising wild. His limbs trembled with need and his brain sparked with longing. A face swelled in his mind’s eye, inhuman and beautiful and terrible in that beauty, teased into the open by the electricfingers stroking his soul. He had danced to this rhythm before, however, and he recognised a lie when he heard one. He forced himself to stop, though his every instinct begged that he go forward. ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘No, I know her febrile stink, and you are not her,’ Oleander said. ‘She would not ask – she would demand.’

In the short story "A More Perfect Union" by Richard McCormick it's implied that some Emperor's Children are having sex (or something like sex). And not only with slaves but with each other.

Xantine to Euphoros:

'It has boon some time since you made your way to my bed chamber, my lord,' he said, draping a purple cloak around his naked body and drawing himself up to standing height with a predator's grace.

Euphoros to Xantine:

'I was worried, I hear pillow talk from from souls who tell me you are lost to your ...'* he looked at the empty containers. 'To your predilections.'

In the book Pariah, the simply amazing character Teke the Smiling appears. And yes, he not only notices the beauty of Beta and Judika, but also wants to “have fun” with the girl. He calls her "sweet" many times as if in mockery. And jokes that she should take her friend on board as "plaything".

‘My, but you’re beautiful,’ Teke said to me, regarding me intently. ‘As beautiful as the boy. Those eyes, that mouth. The hard absence of soul. It’s such a shame he’s been spoiled.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Bequin,’ he said. He paused. ‘Well, of course, I do. Very much. Right up to the unthinkable point where it becomes a pleasure for both of us. But I can’t. I’m not allowed to. You’re too valuable.’

‘You have provided us with it. Within just hours of knowing you, Bequin… sweet Mamzel Bequin… you have already performed an extraordinary service for us.’

‘Oh, he likes you, doesn’t he?’ said Teke, smiling at the Curst. ‘Do you want to bring him too, as your plaything?’

And I like how in the sequel the two girls talk about Teke.

‘I don’t have to imagine,’ she said. ‘I’ve met them. A brief encounter with the one named Teke. Thankfully, I was well warded. It was hard to tell what he wanted more – to kill me, or copulate with me.’ ‘Both, I should think. At the same time.’

Also worth mentioning is Telemachon, who was infatuated with Nefertari. Mostly due to the fact that she is a Drukhari. And he wanted to kill her for the Dark Prince. Is there any sexual connotation here? Well:

‘My angel. My lovely angel, you know nothing of what you speak. You’ve spent a lifetime running from the Youngest God. But he loves you, sweetling. He adores you and all of your kind. I can hear him sing each time you breathe. And one day, when you leave your flesh behind, you will be his. A concubine of spirit and shadow, claimed by your true love at last.’

Telemachon closed his eyes, breathing in her breath, drinking her every exhalation. Being near her was rapture. ‘Let me touch you,’ he said, shuddering. ‘Just let me touch you once.’

‘You live in defiance of his hunger, lovely angel... Let me taste you. Let me bleed you. Let me kill you. Please. Please. Please.’

Telemachon’s hunger for her was still a palpable thing, an aura that invisibly stained the air around him. He was imagining the salty richness of her blood on his tongue, and the thought made him shiver.

I want her, came the swordsman’s wish, as clear as if he’d spoken it aloud. He did not send the words to me, but his murderous desire was fierce enough that I couldn’t help but sense his thoughts.

A feather. A single black feather. I tore it from the fine golden chain that bound it to the pistol grip and crushed it in my hand. ‘Is this from her wings?’ I demanded. ‘But of course.’ ‘You diseased creature. Stalking her. Watching her.’ ‘And more.’ The onyx of his eyes flashed with reflected light. Telemachon was smiling. His facemask didn’t change, but I sensed whatever was left of his face behind the silver twisting in mirth.

And I really like that the Thousand Sons Space Marine stubbornly says that he doesn’t need Nefertari. That she is simply his property and she has no value to him in the Black Legion. Also he when Telemachon speaks of Nefertari:

I will end him. My mind inferred the tigrus-lynx’s violent eagerness as words, though as ever no words were spoken.

‘Do you value your life so little?’ I asked him, surprising myself with my own honesty. ‘This hunger for her will be the death of you.’

And the Chaosites have clearly expanded their vocubular. Just imagine what the Space Marines said smt like that during the Great Crusade:

‘Prey,’ the wych hissed again, echoed crudely by her sisters. ‘Oh no,’ Lucius grinned. ‘You are quite mistaken, my lovelies. I am not being hunted by you. It is you who are being hunted by me.’

Even Abaddon knows how to speak with ladys even if they are eldar which is really funny:

‘The Maiden of Commorragh,’ he greeted her.

‘They are gone.’ Nefertari broke in, still wearing her smile. ‘Their bodies hang in my Aerie if you wish to introduce yourself to them the way you have to others.’ Abaddon snorted in amused resignation. ‘What a wretched little darling you are, alien. And what of Falkus? Where is he, Khayon?’

I also found two interesting comments on reddit, but alas, I could not find exact references in the books. I'm still a human being and this is a Tumblr post, not a dissertation:

The Emperor's Children are quite possessive of the Daemons of Slaanesh. Fighting honour duels for a kiss of a daemonette or to catch the eye of a Keeper of Secrets. They showered even the least of Dark Prince's daemons with affections and gifts. It is because of this they are jealous of the Word Bearers like Saqqara who needed none of that to be beloved by daemons.

And another one:

The bile series straight up has the ec doing kinky shit only just off screen and one of the things Fabius gets accused of when he's setting up his new men is that he's just making a harem for himself.

I also like reddit about Fulgrim because it's true:

I’m pretty sure there is a pretty blatant scene in Slaves to Darkness that shows Fulgrim’s interest in EVERY excess and sex is part of the equation. It’s like a bunch of cultists and demons in the Webway essentially worshipping Slaanesh by experiencing excess including sex, gluttony, etc. Fulgrim is taking part, but it’s not exactly clear what he is taking part in. He’s a demon prince by this point obviously.

He was the only primarch who was married. He can lie himself that he didn't really loved his adoptive parents and wives but can't lie me:

Fulgrim sat back. ‘I was betrothed, once,’ he continued idly. ‘Several times, actually. Political marriages, of course. Made to seal binding agreements, or open negotiations with certain executive dynasties.’ Pyke didn’t reply. His tone had become sombre. A rare thing, for Fulgrim. The Phoenician seemed to always be smiling, laughing at some joke only he understood. But now, he seemed tired. He rubbed his face. ‘I outlived them all, one way or another.’ ‘Did you love them?’ Fulgrim smiled slowly. ‘Some. I think. At first. After a time, I stopped. Love was a weakness I could ill afford in those days. A billion lives rested on my shoulders, and any hesitation on my part would have doomed them all irrevocably.’ He laughed softly. ‘Or so I told myself then.’ ‘And now?’ ‘Now, I know it would have. There is no room for weakness in this galaxy. No room for imperfection.’

And do you know why this is a lie? Because after Fulgrim become a daemon prince, he immediately got N'kari as his consort:

Fulgrim reached the dais and flowed up its side. The bloated thing squirmed in greeting, uncoiling its bulk and twining it around Fulgrim as he embraced it. The thing purred up at the daemon primarch, baring its teeth. Fulgrim ran a hand over its hair. ‘There, N’kari, my delight… We will have bliss again once this is done with, but he is family, and that means I should listen to what he says, hmm? At least a little.' N’kari… It was not its true name – that was a thing that would have broken reality to speak – but in the realm of the warp it was like a signature drawn in atrocity. Layak had glimpsed it and heard it at the edge of bloody visions, but never seen it before. Now it sat before him. N’kari… Eater of Delight, the Son of Ruin, the Daughter of Delight, one of the Six Courtesans of the Dark Prince. Fulgrim settled next to the exalted daemon, their snake bodies intertwining with a sigh, then turned his gaze back on Lorgar.

Fulgrim squirmed, a hand running through N’kari’s hair, while another picked a wet, red fruit from a silver platter and held it out to the bloated daemon. Layak noticed that the exalted daemon’s face was a warped echo of Fulgrim’s own, a fattened parody of the daemon primarch’s primarch’s soul-breaking perfection. N’kari ate the fruit and licked Fulgrim’s fingers.

‘Which war is this, brother dear?’ said Fulgrim, running a finger over N’kari’s cheek.

Fulgrim snarled as soon as Layak willed him speech. ‘I will take your soul and–’ ‘Your consort has already issued the necessary threats.'

N’kari walked to Fulgrim’s side, its bull-headed form shrinking and thinning until it was a slender figure wrapped in red silk, its skin the colour of a shark’s belly, its eyes black orbs. A delicate crest of bone and skin ran down the centre of its scalp. ‘Where the Prince of the Princes goes, so go I,’ it said, its voice a melody that promised bliss and suffering. ‘I am bound to this and to him. As you command him, so shall I follow your will.

By the way let's not forget the words of my man Tyrell, Renegade Lord of Arden IX (Codex: Chaos Space Marines (8th Edition, pg. 52):

Take care, lest your protests grow tiresome. I have asked for so little! Anyone would think that I have asked you to sacrifice yourselves and your sons! And yet, in Slaanesh's boundless and pleasing mercy, I have asked only for your daughters. Surely you would not deny me my small enjoyments?

And I don't care what fandom thinks about my beloved Ian Watson. I don't like he's other space marines. But his Children of Emperor are great:

Were the screaming tethered female prisoners hallucinating while abominations were perpetrated slowly and perversely upon their flesh? A few tormentors had shed items of armour, exposing grotesquely mutated rampant groins, their organs of pleasure bifurcated and more, with squinting eyes sprouting from them, and with drooling lips. Others had no need to shed armour. Chaos Spawn had materialized: wolf-sized creatures with legs of spiders and bodies of imps, with questing tentacles and phallic tubes. Jaq himself almost believed that he was hallucinating. A snake-like umbilical cord connected these spawn to the swollen groin-guards of their master – who stood back, roaring and whinnying with delight, as they guided the spawn in the ravishing of their captives, soaking up the sensations of these roving external members. Corralling other hysterical captives were beastmen slaves armed with serrated axes. A Chaos Tech-Marine monitored these slaves. His armour was studded with spikes. Each shoulder pauldron was in the shape of giant clutching fingers. He wore a nightmare helmet shaped like a horse’s head, eyes glowing red. One of the shaggy beastmen drooled and dropped his axe. The beastman reached out a paw to caress a particularly voluptuous captive. Immediately the Tech-Marine adjusted a control-box strapped to his forearm. The disobedient beastman’s metal collar exploded, severing his head. The head fell. It bounced and rolled amidst the captives even as the beastman’s body was tottering.

I almost forgot to add that in the book Renegades: Lord of Excess Xantine emphasizes that he is fascinated by love. He liked to kill, torture and just look at lovers. So much so that he was delighted with the way his personal daemonette of Slaanesh hugged him. The usual hug after sex, something personal and more sensual.

Later, he warms up to Cecile, a psyker, but not enough to not use her as a navigator. Although the book mentions that he didn't want to know whether she sighed in surprise or pain when he loaded the helmet on her.

He also called one woman, whom he had picked up a long time ago (she interested him because she laughed when she learned that she had become with the inhabitants of the world, who kicked her out of the city, calling her a witch) a muse.

So...

It is clear that, first of all, the Emperor's Children derive pleasure from murder and torture. But still this is not enough. Some may have their own personal obsession. For example, Lucius' fencing. A Space Marine was mentioned who sought satisfaction in the spiritual realm rather than the material. They may love music, food, or take drugs. Including fucking. It's just not their main goal.

So everyone who is against “sex among space marines” can relax. Yes, there is sex drive, but this is just one of the pleasures. Besides, only the Emperor's Children have this thing… at least I haven't found any other Space Marines yet. But judging by my excellent analysis, if I try, who knows.

#emperor's children #fulgrim #lucius the eternal #julius kaesoron #fabius bile #warhammer 40k #wh40k

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badaboomx · 15 days ago

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Did I mention... (Bada Lee x Reader)

PAIRING: G!P Bada Lee x Fem!Reader. SETTING: Underground dancer Bada Lee is quite the popular girl in town and way out of your league. Or so you think. WORDS: 6k PART: 1 of 2

ⓘ No smut for this part, only delicious build up! Some risque insinuation towards the end.

“Here,” a tall, cool dancer said to you in a low tone, holding a piece of chocolate and offering it to you.

Playfully, you shook your head with a big grin to boot. A nice offer you would take with no hesitation any time, but tonight you felt all kinds of playful after the adventures for the night.

“Oh?” said the dancer, approaching you and getting so close that you could only back up against the wall now. With chocolate still in hand, she grabbed you from under your jaw with the other. “Open,” she commanded, lowly, that playful smirk still plastered on her face. “Be a good girl and open up.”

It was like butterflies blooming everywhere on your body, tickling skin and making the hairs of your body perk up and sway at the tension. Body against body, the idle sounds of the busy world around you an accompanying piece. Your lips parted, opening for her, and you just watched as she slowly and carefully placed that piece of chocolate in your mouth, but before she could remove her hand you cheekily wrapped your lips around her fingers and sucked them, pulling them out of you, just to watch her expression. Just to hear that reaction from her.

And I bet you wonder how you got here.

Well, let’s go back a few.

Let’s start with the fact that you were so bored you felt you could dislocate your shoulders and have an infinitely better time. Drunken bodies pushed past you stumbling, making you spill the drink you have not touched since you got it; wild frat boys dared each other to drink more and more with weirder contraptions while a good chunk of the attendees kept within their groups or kept themselves busy with their phones. Or making out with their dates or one-night stands, if not outright fucking but you weren’t here to confirm that. You just… wanted some fun, but that was nowhere to be seen in the sea of students that you cared little for. The music didn’t even blare bombastically from the speakers, a low and chill (but admittedly lame) mix of the most generic copyright free beats found on youtube and it seemed to never end in your perspective. Succinctly put, this party sucked pretty bad. You had been standing there on the corner effectively for two hours and all conversation you tried to have failed immensely for a variety of reasons we don’t even have time to recount.

What a way to kick off your exciting new life, huh?

The first party you’ve gotten invited to and it has turned out to be a waste of time – and a waste of a good outfit. Being new in town had its drawbacks, and they seemed to outweigh the pros of getting to meet new people and starting over fresh. What a damn shame. At one point, you just left that cup half full and slithered away before any drunk dude tried to talk you into staying in the party. Surprisingly, slipping out felt not only like you were a lame party pooper, but like you suddenly had the spotlight with several people pointing out that you were leaving and even asking what’s up. What a goddamn nightmare.

“I have never seen more dead people in a party,” you said jokingly to your roommate, Lee Seoyoung, who was dressing up for a party of her own and was willing to listen to you vent before she went out.

“I warned you,” she tutted. “Those people are only entertained by booze and you don’t even like alcohol all that much.”

With a sigh, you plopped down on the couch, still dressed to the nines. “Is my new life here going to be a bore just like at home?”

“No,” Seoyoung began. “I told you that you can tag along with me tonight, you idiot,” she said so casually as she was putting on her shoes.

You sighed, sitting back up. The idea seemed good, more fun than whatever the fuck was the party you just escaped. Still, you had your doubts. “It just doesn’t feel like my scene, I don’t wanna stick out and be bothersome for you.”

“You’re just scared to check it out,” Seoyoung poked, teasing you.

And you couldn't really deny that. It did intimidate you a bit. Mostly because Seoyoung explained before that this party was some sort of underground party. Music, dancing, live performances and battles, all unlike the frat boy disaster. It didn’t seem like your scene, you know? As described by Seoyoung (Or, well, Lusher as she was called in her dancer circle), these people were pretty cool, sounded tough as nails and – somewhere in your irrational part of your brain – sounded like they would tease you out of the place. To boot, this party was only attended by those who were IN and knew it was happening. That alone sounds exclusive, like you have to earn your way in.

But you technically had, you just lucked out in working for it as much.

Seoyoung – er, Lusher – stood up and grabbed you by the wrist and pulled. “Up, we’re going.”

“But Luuuushh–.”

“Just check it out for today, then if you don’t really like it you can just not go, deal?” Lusher insisted with a pout of her own.

And you couldn’t say no to your roommate that has been nothing but an angel to you as a new arrival. So, you accepted, letting Lusher drag you out of your cocoon and open an exciting world to you.

The guy guarding the front door was intimidating at first glance, but upon seeing you and Lusher approach his demeanor changed to an enthusiastic and friendly one. Lusher greeted him and told him you were tagging along with her for the night.

“She’s new in town,” Lusher patted your back.

“She looks like it,” the guy teased, pointing at your eyes. “She looks like a scared puppy.”

And he was not wrong, but once it was brought up, you tried your best not to look like it. With encouragement from Lusher and the guy, he let you both in. A well lit hallway with some party goers chilling away from the crowded party and the music to perhaps chat more calmly, yet it was as intimidating as anything. You felt as if they discreetly stared at you, judgmentally, when in reality they only looked curiously and moved on. It was hard to get out of that headspace, so new to something like this in an already new town.

Walking down the hall with Lusher was equally nerve wrecking, feeling the muffled music grow a little louder with every step. Turning the corner, walking down another hall, the music now engulfing you with its catchy rhythm, the door opening to you and revealing a very vibrant, moved party with great music coming off proper speakers. An actual crowd of people danced, while another chunk of the crowd hung out, either standing or sitting elsewhere. It felt and looked different, even the atmosphere was different. No fancy lightings, no fancy decorations or structure – just a repurposed warehouse with plenty of space that has been cleverly remodeled with little budget. It looked and felt like one of those underground party places in movies and music videos.

“Cool, right?” Lusher said loudly, making herself clear atop the chatting crowd and the dance music.

You were almost overwhelmed, looking at her still looking like a lost puppy.

“C’mon, it’s less intimidating than it looks,” Lusher insisted and tugged you along, making both of your ways deeper into the heart of the party.

You weren’t sure if Lusher was just saying this to make you feel better or if it was truly as she said. Either way, you stuck close to her and nearly clung to her hand for dear life as you traversed through the confusing mass of bodies. Some people even greeted her, acknowledging her with a cool tilt of their head, an enthusiastic shout, or a secret handshake. A fascinating world where everyone was familiar with one another to some extent at least, you surely felt like you stuck out.

“Yo, Lusher!” one of the party goers greeted. “Bringing a girlfriend along at last, huh?”

Lusher laughed and shook her head. “Nah, not this time. She’s my new roomie.”

“Sweet!” the stranger said, looking at you up and down. “She looks like a scared puppy–.”

“Yeah, I’m breaking her in,” Lusher quickly rebutted, trying not to dwell on you lest you become more scared. “Hey, where are my girls?”

“Ah, I’ve only seen Bada and Tatter,” they looked around and pointed towards the corner of the warehouse – a place filled with booths and other seats. “There they are.”

“Thanks,” Lusher and the stranger did a handshake that you have no idea how was possible and bid farewell, heading towards the elusive location.

En route to meet the so-called ‘girls’ you heard someone pick up the mic and start talking, getting the crowd to holler and shout. It was so overwhelming, passing through masses of people you didn’t recognize and listening to whatever the person was trying to say while clinging to Lusher’s hand. God, maybe this wasn’t your scene after all.

Then, you saw them.

“Ah, there they are,” Lusher shouted, pointing at them for you to see them. And you have never felt more nervous. “That’s Tatter,” Lusher pointed to a girl in blonde with a resting bitch face who was casually chatting up to…

“And that’s Bada,” Lusher pointed to a woman whose aura was imposing and intimidating. It took you a second to truly take in who you were observing, even while Lusher was dragging you up to meet them.

Bada, whoever that woman was, looked as intimidating as the word itself. A brunette – wait, two-toned, brunette with blonde streaks – donning a black beanie, matching black baggy pants, and a gray hoodie with a cool design down the arms. Even when talking to someone she seemed to know she exuded an air of coolness you could only describe as imposing. By presence alone, you couldn’t tell if she was a rapper or a dancer but you were certain that she was a performer, as if you could feel that she was born to be on stage.

It made you nervous.

Especially when she turned to watch you and Lusher fast approaching, tapping Tatter and pointing to watch. Tatter jumped off her seat first and Bada slowly followed, a lot more relaxed than Tatter who seemed to be anxious to talk to Lusher. In comparison to Tatter and Lusher, Bada was a giant too. Broad shouldered, lanky and tall. All the makings for a menacing person who could devour you in a second. Yet, upon greeting Lusher with a hug, she smiled ever so slightly.

Now you didn’t know exactly how to feel.

“Glad to see you made it,” Bada said, patting Lusher’s head.

“I can’t just miss a party,” Lusher pulled away and looked back at you, pulling you in closer. “Here’s my new roomie, you remember I told you about her?”

Bada looked at you for a moment that seemed to stretch on and on. Confusing feelings bubbled in your gut, waiting for Bada to do or say something – anything – as you stood there like a fish out of water. Finally, while Lusher was giving Tatter a hug, Bada stretched out her hand to you. “You’re the new face, right?”

You nodded, then tentatively gave her hand a shake.

“You look like a scared puppy, you know that?” Bada said, a subtle smirk coming to her lip.

“Yeah…” And for some reason, hearing it from her made… your heart flutter.

Tatter and Lusher quickly got engulfed in a conversation of their own, gossip taking the wheels above manners really, and Bada – having noted this – got closer to you.

“Never been to a party like this before, have you?”

“Is it too obvious?” You looked up at Bada, who kept eyeing you curiously, like you were someone from a different planet. Yet, it wasn’t ever rude, just boldly inquisitive. “Yeah, we didn’t have these in my town, I think.”

“That you knew of,” Bada shrugged, slipping her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “We don’t bite though, baby. You’ll be fine.”

Baby…? Ah, something like that was not something you heard often. You would generally find it condescending or patronizing, but coming out of Bada? It was almost heavenly, and you didn’t even want to feel that way! You can’t just get nervous and charmed this easily. You sighed out and scratched your head. “I don’t know, you people here look pretty tough,” you paused, looking at her. “And hungry.”

A soft chuckle came out with a smirk, Bada looked around at the crowd around all of you. “Half of these people are mushy for the right things, don’t worry about it.”

That made you curious. Even if you hesitated in the question, you let it out anyways. “Are you like that, too?”

Bada kept quiet for a second, the ghostly essence of a smirk still there on her lips as she shrugged. So cool, like she was tacitly telling you that you wouldn’t know – and you would only find out if she wanted you to. That silence was far from awkward, it was rather refreshing, like Bada wasn’t afraid of silence (or, well, silence between the two of you, considering there was a whole party going on behind you). And she wasn’t afraid of looking at you in the eye as she let the silence flow. Warmth started to spread on your cheeks, painting your face a shade of pink and tell-taling how you were feeling about Bada staring at you like that.

“Bada?”

You and Bada turned to see Lusher and Tatter.

“I need to talk to Tatter alone for a second, can you watch over my roomie?”

You stood up straight the second you heard that. Was she really just going to leave you like that?

Bada nodded. “I’ll take care of her, you do what you need to do,” she said like she was a leader, concisely and firmly – like she was a reliable person and could take care of it. Perhaps it was a bit of a late connection, but it had dawned on you then as Lusher and Tatter walked away that you were standing in front of Lusher’s dance crew leader, and her mentor.

The tall woman looked at them walk away, just to know where they were heading off, while you looked up at Bada with this brand new perspective. And you were getting a little more nervous.

Lusher had spoken to you briefly about her dance team and her leader, but not by name. What you knew about this elusive leader was that she was quite the popular lady among the dancer and rapper circle. A once-rapper that fell in love with dancing and switched specialties, now fully a dancer that battles occasionally and competes with others in tournaments. She’s considered quite a competent battler and a very talented dancer (and choreographer) and quite the ladies magnet. You didn’t quite know why for that last one, but it made you nervous.

“Yo,” Bada said, pulling you out of your own thoughts with a snap close to your eyes.

You looked up at her again, gulping and hoping she didn’t hear or notice that.

“You okay over there?” She merely asked.

You cleared your throat and tried so hard to play it cool. “Y-yeah!”

Bada looked at you in silence, face completely impassive before she chuckled a little. “C’mon, sit down.”

You went to do just that, trying to hide the fact that you felt your knees weak enough to give in at any second. But you soon sat down, facing the big moving crowd full of life. Bada had taken her seat near you but at an arm’s length, grabbing a bottle from the table before placing her feet on it casually. You can hear your parents saying that’s a rude gesture, but you can’t help but to find it very… familiar, casual, even cool.

Then silence, at least between the two of you. You couldn’t really be as comfortable as Bada seemed to be, and you felt your palms sweating already, and you could tell Bada was staring at you. As if she was waiting to see how long it’ll be until you said something to break up the ice. Amused by you, perhaps, or maybe secretly getting a kick out of making you just a bit nervous.

“So,” you broke first, pouting a bit. If you were going to be stuck with her for the time being, might as well try to get to know her, right? You thought to ask her something about herself, and so you began.

“You…”

But you trailed off, looking at Bada.

That woman was just… staring at you, patiently waiting for you to continue but you couldn’t really keep your mind away from getting distracted as you saw the woman upon closer inspection. Her wide, full lips donning a strikingly pink tone, almost beckoning for you to touch them or to feel them on your body; her nose lovingly sculpted in harmony with her eyes. The way she looked at you, with her facial expression still neutral, made you wonder what she was thinking at that moment. By the time she spoke, nothing in her face changed. Just a blink of her eyes.

“I…?” Bada prodded, trying to get you to say what you wanted.

“Uhh,” you nervously rubbed your neck. What was it that you were gonna ask her? Damn it, you couldn’t remember.

Bada chuckled a bit. “We got time before they come back, don’t worry.”

The levity made you smile shyly at her. “Sorry.”

Bada shrugged, taking a sip from her drink before she spoke again. “I don’t mind. At least you’re not pretending to be above us or cool.”

“P-people do that a lot?” You stammered out against your better judgment, but genuinely curious about it.

“Oh yeah. Especially to me,” Bada instantly replied. “You’re doing good so far.”

That made you feel better, and a little less nervous.

But before the silence could sit, Bada up and asked you a question herself. “What brings you here if this isn’t your scene?”

You shrugged. “I was at a frat party before this. It sucked.”

“Yeah,” Bada laughed, leaning back and resting her arm on the top of the booth’s cushion. So laid back, comfortable, but still keeping her distance. “Lusher told me those guys over there don’t know how to party at all.”

Her laugh was nice, you wanted to hear it again. Not realizing it, you scooted closer to her as you spoke, feeling somehow magnetically pulled now. “It’s not the first time?”

Bada shook her head. “Nah, it’s been something Lusher learned real quick when she enrolled there.”

“Guess I learned too,” you said, glancing at her and noticing that she’s… eyeing you. Up and down, like she’s analyzing you now that she’s close enough. You tried not to let that get to your nerves. “I-I just wanted to have a fun night, meet the place I’m gonna live in for a while, make friends, you know?”

Well, you stammered a little but you finished the sentence.

Bada nodded, sympathetic but not saying anything for a second.

“And this isn’t my scene, b-but Lusher insisted and I think she’s so cool. You guys are cool too, but you people scare me, you just seem so tough and–.”

Bada chuckled then, putting her hand up to stop you from speaking more. “Calm down, puppy. I got you.”

You blushed in embarrassment, tightly pressing your lips together as if to stop you from screwing this up more somehow.

Bada just looked at you though, an unmistakable glimpse of fondness so palpable in her eyes at the way she looked at you. “Do I scare you?” Emphasis on the I.

Yes. Yes. Oh my god, yes. She scared you in a way that was so exciting you couldn’t even put it into words. She fascinated you so much, like a brand new story unraveling before you. Lips parted, you were ready to say something.

But words weren’t coming out.

Bada was willing to wait patiently, seriously curious, but a tapping on her shoulder brought her out of the conversation. You could almost sense a vague annoyance in her eyes before she turned to see who it was.

“You busy, Bada?” A stranger, someone who barely acknowledged you.

“I’m totally free right now,” Bada said firmly, but you could tell there was a twinge of sarcasm sprinkled on top of it. “What is it?”

“We need you to take the stage for a second, the guys playing after the DJ are caught on some fucking traffic, can you believe it?”

Bada nodded slowly, like she barely cared. “Crazy,” she slowly looked over to you. “Traffic on a Saturday night, can you believe it?”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and giggling at Bada’s reaction to this sudden request.

“We already got someone but we also–.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bada waved her hand and stood up, getting the guy to be quiet. “Explain it to me on the way there,” she then looked at you, leaning in so she doesn’t have to shout over the music. “I’ll be back in a snappy, you be a good girl and wait here.”

That sent shivers down your spine. It was a direct command, full with a nickname to get your legs turning into jelly. You could only look at her and nod rapidly, hypnotized, probably looking like a scared little puppy.

With that, Bada walked away with the guy. Confident, chin tilted up, leading the way for the guy who kept yapping. Just by watching her walk away you felt so insecure, and it didn’t take long for you to notice it. Like suddenly the support beam that was Bada (and by extension Lusher) was ripped out from under you. So, you remained seated like the good girl you were.

To distract yourself, you wondered what exactly was Bada going to do on stage. Curiosity built up more and more, considering Bada was the leading lady of a dance crew and if Bada was so popular, she had to be good right?

The DJ finished his set and bid farewell for the night, introducing two last-minute hosts to fill the stage (and stretch the time) and entertain the already hyped crowd. The crowd welcomed Bada and an equally tough looking lady with warm applause and cheers. Soon enough, you understood what was that magnetism that Bada seemed to have on people. Her charismatic presence was palpable even on stage; from the way she held the microphone, the way she walked around on stage like she was born on it and owned it, to the way she interacted with the other host and the audience. So smoothly, like there was no one watching.

Her true power came on when both hosts decided to host a little impromptu battle against each other. Lyrically and physically. By physical I mean dancing, this isn’t a fight club. Though you were sure that Bada knew of an underground fight club somewhere. First, they both duked it out on a freestyle rap. Frankly, you couldn’t even hear what they were saying, observing the crowd gather closer and cheer for the punchlines that both girls were throwing out there. You were just in awe watching Bada’s passion for this art form, the way she spoke to the microphone and the attractive vein on her already attractive neck, the gestures she made like it was second nature to her–.

Oh you looked like an idiot didn’t you? Jaw dropped, leaning in, absolutely enwrapped in the spectacle.

The crowd decided and after a neck and neck battle Bada lost this part of the battle. The face-off wasn’t over, though. Soon enough, a hard hitting instrumental blasted through the speakers, its rhythm instantly infecting both girls on stage immediately. The winner of the last round went first, and you were impressed by the way they could even move their body. Hell, you didn’t even know half of that was possible. But then, Bada was up.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lusher said, coming out from wherever her and Tatter went. However, she took one good look at your flabbergasted face and looked at the stage. Then, she just nodded and sat beside you, observing Bada tear up the stage.

And tear it up she did. That woman was a force to be reckoned with, able to be smooth and rough, fast or slow – even go from intimidating and hard hitting to sensual and flirty. The way she moved her hips was so exquisite, full of vigor and flavor and you couldn’t help a tiny little gasp coming out of you; the way she had such a control over her body and how her popping looked so powerful and like it could break the floor. So easy flowing, so confident… No wonder there was such a craze for this woman. It even explained Lusher’s pride on having a dance crew with her, like she was the cool mentor figure you want on your side for battles.

The crowd went wild, the other dancer even had to laugh at the ingenuity of some of Bada’s moves, so this round was unmistakably Bada’s win in the bag. Just in time, too, seeing as the next performer had arrived and was ready to take the stage themselves. Bada and her impromptu co-host both came off the stage and your eyes couldn’t stop following Bada – who was quickly swarmed by people congratulating her, greeting her, and you could even notice some girls come up to her to… well, you didn’t know. All you knew is that even from afar, you could tell some of them wanted to stick around Bada for the rest of the night, and you thought for a second that Bada would ditch you to stick around people who seemed to be more confident and cooler. Yet, Bada excused herself politely and moosey’d on over to where you and the girls were sitting.

Wait, you and the girls?

You woke up from your little trance and looked at Lusher and Tatter who were gossiping and giggling like you weren’t there. It wasn’t until the brunette noticed you that she smacked the blonde on the leg and both exaggeratedly pretended to look innocently at you.

“What are you guys doing?” you asked, leaning and trying to tune out the music and the talking coming from the stage.

“Oh nothing,” Tatter began, fixing her hair.

“Just talking about how you look like you’ve never seen people dance,” Lusher said boldly, earning a gasp from Tatter who smacked her in return. “What? It’s the truth.”

“S-shut up–. I was just watching Bada dance!” You replied defensively, as if hoping they hadn’t watched you gobsmacked for the entire battle.

In response, both Lusher and Tatter opted to imitate how you looked – and at the sheer timing of them doing it perfectly in sync, bursted out laughing together, complete with claps and smacking each other.

You just had to sit there and take it, even if it was making you blush with embarrassment. Internally you panicked a little, seeing Bada bid farewell to the people who were walking with her and walking up towards you. She looked at you and in that moment it felt like everything was in slow motion. And that made you blush harder.

“Hey girls,” Bada said, looking at Lusher and Tatter still recovering from their laughing fit. “C’mon, my dancing wasn’t that bad,” she jumped in, jokingly.

“No, no, no, it’s not that,” Lusher and Tatter said in unison, shaking their heads and hands.

Bada looked at you, pointing at the two dopeys with her head. “What are they laughing about then?”

“At me, watching you,” you said honestly, not daring to look at her.

Bada didn’t question that, as if she already knew what had happened. You didn’t notice or know, but she was staring at you, eyes squinting a little bit and discerning that faint pink on your cheeks. Either way, she sat nearest to you. “I’m sorry, duty called.”

You bravely looked at her and shook your head. “I-It’s okay. I a-actually wanted to see you dance.”

At that, Bada looked like she wanted to ask something, but opted out of it. Maybe it was to reiterate the question of whether or not you were scared of her. Instead, the question that came out was.

“How was it then? Did you like it?”

Are you scared of me?

“It was really cool,” you said.

And yes you were scared of how much this woman rocked your world.

Oh, she was rocking your world and you could feel your knees about to give in at any moment. But if your knees gave out now, you would only fall against Bada’s moving body. It was inevitable that at one point the girls would get up and go dance, but you didn’t expect them to not only drag you, but to drag Bada along to dance with you.

“Guys, I don’t know how to dance–.”

But Lusher didn’t seem to care, and Bada seemed to care even less.

You, fish out of water that can barely dance, paired with the smoke bomb that was Bada. A cruel joke, you felt, but Bada didn’t seem to have troubles with leading you and teaching you. With the patience of a saint, Bada leads you into what should really be a sensual dance together. Yet, it was filled with shy smiles from you and encouraging smiles from her. When your confidence in it grew, you moved with intent and Bada noticed.

At this, she directly spoke to your ear. “See, you have it in you,” it was soft encouragement, a hand carefully placed on your tummy as she got into it as well. You could understand then why the girls enjoyed doing this, just drifting to the music was fun, being this close to someone attractive made you feel so much more confident and excited. With the way Bada looked at you here and there, you found yourself intoxicated by her presence like many of the other girls who were crushing madly on her. Ah, you could understand them, you could understand the desperate need to make a move.

But you couldn’t. Not when you felt something interesting when grinding against Bada, your hands instinctively landing on Bada’s thighs upon feeling it. A surprise, for sure, but a very… fascinating one.

You almost second guessed whether or not you felt it and wanted to check again, but when Bada slowed down to a halt it became clear. Clarified further by that groan to your ear coming from Bada. “Fuck,” like she didn’t expect that herself.

But before any of you both could do anything, the music came to an end. The person holding the microphone babbled away while Lusher approached you and Bada, taking advantage of the moment to talk to you both.

“Yo, we should get going. It’s getting a bit too late.”

You were a little flabbergasted, it showed a little on your face when you looked back at Bada. But Bada looked at you with that same composed look, yet she softly apologized.

“Sorry about that,” and it was just for you to hear. But loudly and firmly, she responded to Lusher. “Let me drive you home.”

The sea of meaningless words kept clashing into each other and creating nonsense as you kept reading. God, studying was no use right now. In your mind there was only something running around endlessly and that was Bada.

You couldn’t stop thinking of the ride back home from yesterday. Bada cooly driving everyone, unfazed by what had just happened between the two of you. You were on the passenger seat, looking at her discreetly and noting – at least in the beginning – that subtle, tell-tale bulge. A bulge that soon enough dissipated, as if Bada put it under control. It fascinated you, seeing as you hadn’t noticed before that moment, but above all what fascinated you was how casual she was about it. And how she seemed to notice you staring every now and then. Responsibly, of course, she didn’t keep her eyes off the road when the car was moving even for an inch, but when slowing down to a stop to drop off Tatter, Bada looked at you and noticed you already were staring. Against your better judgment, you didn’t look away, instead you locked gazes with her while Tatter gathered her things to hop off. And in that brief moment you both looked at each other, she… smirked.

Like she knew why you were staring at her for starters, like she was going to talk to you about it at one point. Just not that night.

But you couldn’t feel the same certainty and confidence you felt then. Not after waking up the next morning and realizing you were probably way out of her league, the bits of liquid confidence that tasted like hellish alcohol dissipating from your system.

Now, studying was impossible and your mind was restless.

Lusher was also sprawled across her bed, the book just covering her face. She was exhausted by the night before and struggling to study for different reasons. But she was more confused as to why YOU were struggling. You had been a studious kind of reader, a better student than her in the short amount of time you were her roomie. So, she grabbed the book, closed it and found enjoyment somewhere else.

Poking your brain for a second, figuring you out.

“Can’t study either, huh?” She asked first, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Nope,” you replied, forehead to textbook now. “Not at all.”

“Last night wasn’t THAT wild though,” Lusher said. “I thought you avoided drinking that much for the same reason.”

You sighed and opted to lay face up, closing the book. “It’s not the drinking.”

Lusher looked confused. “Then, what is it?”

You really had no idea how to even begin explaining it, or if you should even tell your roommate that the leader of her dance crew was the one thing consistently on your mind. “I… I don’t know.”

Lusher squinted, her brain starting to function. “I thought you had fun, you look like you’re hungover more than anything.”

“No, believe me. I had a lot of fun, it was great! But…”

Is it too corny to say you were hungover from the rapid growth of a crush? A crush who you danced with and had in your space all night? Definitely felt like you were yearning for her to start with, like you needed to be near her to survive. Ugh! Stupid feeling, you hated it and its very silly side effects. You truly couldn’t word this to Lusher in a way that was logical or anything, so you gave yourself the moment of silence to try to come up with something.

That silence was more than enough for Lusher to click things together. She may not be good for studying, but gossip is her Ph.D and life. It dawned on her and while she was still piecing things together, she gasped out. “Oh my god,” she excitedly slid to the edge of her bed. “It’s Bada, isn’t it?”

Your eyes shut open wide and looked at her. “N-no?”

“Oh you’re lying,” Lusher pointed at you, breaking out into laughter.

You were blushing all over again, grabbing your pillow and covering it – almost as if to smother yourself to get away from embarrassment.

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t blame you!” Lusher insisted, skipping over to the edge of your bed. “Don’t be embarrassed, Bada is quite the looker.”

You groaned into the pillow and Lusher grabbed it away from you, giggling. “She’s… so pretty.”

“Yeah,” Lusher nodded. “She’s also really hot, isn’t she?”

“Lusher, she’s your leader.” “So? I can find my friends hot,” Lusher shrugged. “Like Tatter is hot. And Bada IS hot, you can’t deny it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but to smile at that. “Yes.”

“Aha!” Lusher snapped her fingers. “Then wait,” she calmed down a bit. “Why were you so dejected just now? Aren’t you supposed to be like… giddy about it?”

You shook your head. “I am, but… Y’know. I talked to her a lot and she was so fascinating to me, like there’s a lot to learn about her. And we even danced and all but… Bada is out of my league.”

Lusher wanted to slap you and you could tell. “She spent the entire night with you, you idiot.”

“Which her heartbreaker type can do,” you reasoned, raising a finger matter of factly.

Lusher was about to retort, but thought it through for a second. “She used to, not so much anymore.”

“See?”

“Okay but,” Lusher insisted, trying to defend her leader now. “She doesn’t do that and I think she respects that we’re roommates to even try that, okay?”

You couldn’t give a rebuttal to that.

Lusher adjusted in her seat. “Besides, when she was done dancing with you she looked like she needed some fresh air. Like you rocke–.” Lusher stopped abruptly and gasped, hitting your arm playfully. “Tatter was right!”

You were trying to get away from her smacks. “Wh-what, stop that!”

“Oh my god,” Lusher giggled, trying to lower her voice a bit. “Tatter mentioned that when she saw Bada take us to her car, she saw Bada a little flustered, trying to hide her–.” Lusher looked around, then whispered away. “Her hard on.”

You gulped, looking at the ceiling and not daring to keep eye contact with your roommate.

“Listen, Bada doesn’t get hard-ons like that ever,” Lusher insisted, hitting the mattress repeatedly. “Ne-ver. I’ve seen her dance with so many people! She has been grinded on plenty of times, and believe me even I danced with her once. I have never seen her have a hard-on. Which, I will admit, did wound my ego just a bit,” dramatic pause for Lusher to place her hand on her chest. “But Bada has never gotten hard.”

You rubbed your arm. “M-maybe Tatter misunderstood–.”

“That girl has 20/20 vision and can see ants running on the ground, I doubt she would not notice,” Lusher said way too excited. “This is good gossip, oh my god.”

You covered your face. “Stoooop, it still doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it does. It means you affected her a little, enough to catch her off guard. Bada doesn’t just get flustered like that, not in all the while I’ve known her,” Lusher insisted, as hopeful as you should be. “I don’t care if she’s out of your league or whatever, if you like her and she likes you back, give it a try. You already got her once, right?”

Lusher does have a point. What gives if Bada is out of your league? Why not just try it and see where it goes? Why not just chase after the woman who already seems to pay particular attention to you?

Why not?

#Bada Lee Fanfics #Bada Lee Imagines #Bada x Reader #Bada Lee x Reader #Bada Lee x Fem!Reader #Bada Lee x Y/N #Bada Imagine #Bada Lee SWF2 #bada Lee x Female Reader #SWF2 #BOOM writes #Bada Lee Fluff #G!P Bada Lee #Bada Lee Fanfic

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ribbonbite · 4 months ago

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mulgogi [sebastian solace]

in which a certain prisoner is a kpop stan and sebastian hates(loves) it

a/n ♡ this isn't meant to be taken seriously (and is lowkey cringe) so to the people who hate fun THIS ISN'T FOR YOU!! also it's kinda short im sorry <3 also badly written but erm ^_^'' and to non kpop fans who like sebastian too, this probably won't make much sense im sorry 😭

(this is NOT an excuse to mix my hyperfixations and it is NOT cringe. it is also NOT a reflection of my headcanon of sebastian being a secret kpop stan who likes girl groups. /s)

name inspo: '"mulgogi" by fromis_9 (get it bc sebastian is a fish and mulgogi means fish HAHA!!)

God, Sebastian fucking hated them.

Not only were they super annoying to him, flashing their beacon at his face and whatnot, they were a kpop fan. Whenever they came into the shop they always blasted music that pissed him off. 'I dunno, Sebastian! Maybe you should stan fromis_9', they would say with a stupid grin on their face.

Why were they so joyous too? They were in a facility where almost everything is out to get them. It's like their brain was only full of puppies and kittens or something, even though they're experiencing the horrors of humanity.

Sebastian started biting his finger in irritation at the thought of them. Oh how he wanted to so badly punch them in their stupid yet cute face. As he got lost into his violent (and somehow sweet) thoughts, he suddenly heard noises coming from the vent.

Oh god... not them again...

"Guuueeessss who!" [Name] announces with the most bright tone of voice Sebastian has ever heard in his life. He instantly became nauseous as they walked into the shop.

"Oh... It's you." Sebastian says through gritted teeth, clapping his palms together. "I sure am glad you're back!" The sarcasm of the grumpy fish went over the head of the prisoner.

A grin made its way onto [Name]'s face. "Anyway, you know what time it is!" They exclaim before pulling out a speaker. Where did they even manage to get it? How is it even working in whatever hellhole they're in? Who knows.

With a press of the power button, the familiar tune of a specific song that [Name] liked playing started. The happy and summery tone did NOT match the current situation they were in.

"Have you seen my Hayoung photocard? I carry this around with me all the time!" They said, pointing a piece of paper with a random lady on it at Sebastians face

The fish looked at the paper with lowered brows, not amused at whatever the prisoner was doing. "...You're very annoying." He mutters as [Name] put the photocard back inside their bag. He hated the fact that he found it kind of endearing.

"Aww, but I know you like it!" [Name] teases. "Your tail is literally swaying to the beat of this song right now!" They pointed at his lower end, which was indeed moving despite Sebastians irritated face. He took a deep breath before crossing his arms. "Yea yea... the song is good." He admitted with defeat.

[Name] grinned and started jamming along. Maybe this was a weird way of coping with the fact that there are entities who could end their life at any moment, Sebastian thought.

Whatever the reason was, he was glad that they had some sort of light in their dark situation. He still found them irritating but hey, at least he has company, right? And he found [Name] sort of cute so he didn't completely despise them.

"Sebastian, I think you should really stan fromis_9." Their voice shook Sebastian out of thought. He looked at them for a moment, a deep sigh leaving his mouth.

"Sure! Why not."

if u can, please stream fromis_9's comeback "supersonic"! out august 12th <3

ending was a bit choppy and weird im sorry >_<

thanks for reading!! 🩷

#pressure roblox #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sort of #sorry if its not accurate to you as a reader >_<#🍨 | ribbons writings ♡

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sunnydust2003 · 9 days ago

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Vent:

It's official

I'm scared of her rn because since i deleted my DA account, she won't leave me alone.

She's still stalk and harassing me despissd facts, i left this god awful website.

She's calls me like a pedo, zoophilia, child murder and etc with no proof and took out of context.

Like explame this as possible i am:

1. Pedo stuff:

The reason why she's call me a pedo because i favourite parody of Cuties which was make funny of pedo which i favourite because i like people make fun of this type people who deserve that from piece of shit but i regrett favourite this art.

And one thing, i hate Cuties because you know why.

I'm glad it's got remove from good.

2. Zoophilia:

She's calls me a Zoophilia just because i comment of one my friends art of "Oh No, He's so Hot" gif of Squidward from picture of Donald being muscular (it's not fetish art btw) and she's believe i have crush on Donald which i don't have actually crush on Donald Duck.

Do i like Donald Duck, yes but do you have crush on Donald.

The answer is fuck no.

Donald isn't my fictional crush.

3. Shipping Ren and Stimpy.

She's believe i ship Ren and Stimpy just because of i comment one of person which i ask person where she's start ship Ren and Stimpy because i like heard when they start liles ship or anything.

Beside i don't ship Ren and Stimpy because i see them as friends and nothing else more.

4. She's hates when someone favorite artwork just because they don't like.

She's blame me of i favourite Spongebob x Vocaloid: Lust because she doesn't like song which okay fine but why you blame me from this.

Oh yeah because he's was prevent to female or some shit which btw i never actually listen to Lust or anything because i'm not interest on song.

Only i favourite because artwork was amazing and that's why favourite art in first place.

5. She's blame me over i ship something.

She's blame me over i made status about i cringe myself when i used ship Elsa and Selena Gomez just because i thought it's was adorable.

Keep mind, i was minor back the day, i didn't have brain development until i get olded and realized:

What the fuck is wrong with me.

Idk what's wrong with my younger self when ship this two.

I'm glad i stop ship this two because it's was weird af.

6. She's calls me a child murder.

Yup she's calls me a child murder because of i was hyper about FNAF movie and says i'm only watch movie because i want see kids get killed which wtf are you talk about?!

I'm not watch movie because kids get killed, i'm watch this movie because of how adoption of game it's was.

And i'm glad they didn't show kids get killed in movie because last time i have experince with kids get killed is was hard to watch.

7. She's rant about how i so called treat my friends shit.

Now yes, this was true i was asshole about my friends about whole of "Freddy hates his friends" but i was only mad at this because my friends is remind me of toxic cartoon community and i don't want my friends become one of them but since i watch AOSTH and Scratch, Grounxed and Coconuts are become my new favorite characters, i realized i was asshole towards my friends and i apologie to him from real this time and he's accept this apologie.

This now, we talks about Freddy fight Peck or other his interest, hell i even give him a idea and drawing based of i comment on this because i want make him a happy and i love make friends a happy.

But what really pissed me off is she's lying about me so called sent my whiteknight to my friends which it's was bullshit because i don't even have whiteknight and don't want harassing my friends over this.

I may was asshole but at least i apologie about my action and i want improve myself.

She's just lying herself with no proof of this.

8. Finally she's get trigged over i made one meme of Lincoln get kick out which was meant be make fun of toxic TLH fanbase of how overprotective Lincoln when Lincoln is no better.

Now if you see Such No Luck, i made meme this because i want pissed TLH fans off because how over sentisive about this when Lincoln is no better because he's was lying about he's got bad luck just want have free time when he's could tells his family honest.

Before you say, no i'm not defense Lynn Jr and facts, both of them are unlikable.

So yeah.

9. She's blame me over the facts, voice actor of Abby (Back at the Barnyard) is anti vaxxer and she's say i should proud of her because she's so called cares her children which i have question:

If she's so called cares her child, she shouldn't realized maybe i should protect my kids from infection but nope, she doesn't give a fuck about her children and forced on people who tells to wear mask is canceled culture which prove me a point, she doesn't care from children.

And i want talks about her double stands ass because i like how she's called me a pedo when she's also defense Rev Says Desu who is lolicon and she's defense him by saying:

"Oh he's not going after a real kids, they are just fictional characters" which is gross af.

And thing is she favourite of My Melody and Kuromi from Sanrio x Yu-Gi-Oh pillow sexual which remind me of:

"My Melody and Kuromi are underage" which is red flags because how she support this type shit.

So remember i tell you about she's thinks calling me a child murder just because i was hyper about FNAF movie.

About that, she's also double stands because she's calling me a child murder over FNAF movie but yet, she's have favourite FNAF on her DA.

Hey are you same person telling me about i'm so called support child murder just because of one movie but yet, you favourite FNAF despised facts, you just said to me i support child murder but i guess, she's become stupid af and acting like she's a innocent person.

Yeah fuck this bullshit.

So yeah, i'm done with this shit.

It's time to move on from good.

So yeah, if you reading this:

Please leave me the fuck alone, i don't want have deal with you or anything.

I just want get free from stalker and harassing i got from you.

So please leave the internet and get some seriously help.

#sunny talks #shut up sunny #vent #vent post

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ryuichirou · 3 months ago

Note

I apologize if it is too personal but how do you deal with "antishipper" and the way they make callout posts and harassment campaigns against you ? It’s legitimately so scary and it makes me hesitant of posting my own art

Anon! I am very sorry you are going through this horrible feeling of hesitation and anxiety; knowing that people get targeted like that could not only stop you from posting, but stop you from creating altogether, and this is the worst part about this whole thing.

It’s not too personal, and I don’t mind talking about it at all. I’ve talked about our position and our relationship with fandom policing a bunch of times already, so I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself.

I used to be worried about posting certain stuff too. Well, when I was a teen/in my early 20s I wasn’t worried about anything: we had so much juicy stuff posted here lol But then the nsfw ban happened, and the social climate of this app and internet in general started shifting, the first stories about people driven to end their lives because of the hate they received started to come out, and we stopped posting completely. It wasn’t a huge loss to us back then, and this situation wasn’t the only reason why we stopped, but still, it clearly became much more difficult to just appear out of nowhere, throw problematic stuff in your blog and run away again.

I vividly remember us wanting to post my Shingeki no Kyojin drawings and comics based on our AUs and stuff, but not knowing what to do with Ereri – there was no way for us to be “unproblematic” (which was never a concern to us, we just didn’t want to get tons of hate lol) and still post Eren with a man twice his age. So we started posting them without a tag, starting with a drawing that wasn’t too shippy, and then miraculously the world didn’t end. That made us bolder, and we started to post them openly, and posted them for almost two years pretty regularly, alongside some of our other problematic ships + problematic themes. Of course we did get hate, we got a lot of hate while we were posting SnK stuff from all kinds of people, but what we also got a lot of people who found our content refreshing and interesting, even if it was weird and uncomfortable at times.

We weren’t the only people who shipped Ereri (let’s ignore my petty thoughts about the difference between Ereri and Rivaere for now), and we weren’t the only people in Twst fandom who liked Shroudcest, which is another ship that we were super hesitant about posting or even mentioning at first. But with all the hate around I was so certain the world was going to end the moment we post them, and that didn’t happen. The end of the world never happens, but what does happen is that people either get introduced to a fun new dynamic and get invested, or get happy that someone finally posts for the ship they were too afraid to post for. Somehow, when you see some other person being ballsy, you don’t feel as scared anymore – it happened to us with other people’s posts too. Yes, I still say this even though it spawns a bunch of callout posts and harassment, as it did with us. Were we cancelled? Yeah, somewhat. There’s so much you can say about an acc that states “problematic stuff, 18+”, right? I was super relieved and happy, actually, that a lot of people left/blocked us just because they’re the people I’d never want to interact with my art.

I’ve been yapping for a long time already lol so I’ll give you some pieces of advice instead… These are things that legitimately help us.

Surround yourself with people who support you – if not you personally, then at least your ideas (i.e. other proshippers). Luckily, nowadays it’s easier to find them… But also, having a friend who you can vent about these things to helps a lot! It’s cheesy but it’s a fact: when you’re not alone, it’s not as scary.

Always ignore comments/asks from antis and block them on sight, block anonymous asks too. Even if you really want to sass them, it’s much more effective to ignore them: when you give them attention, it invites more engagement from them.

Block people you get bad vibes from. Block those who like or comment bad takes or support harassment of others, block all of their alt accounts. It’s tedious and takes time, but it really helps to keep you hidden from them, at least to some degree. I look up Shroudcest sometimes just to block new people. They try to make fun of me for that, but who cares if it works? You can’t block everyone, but these people usually flock together and it’s usually just a bunch of friends, so taking several posts on these topics from people from the fandom and blocking everyone involved will obliterate the majority of harassers.

In terms of your safety, having multiple accounts in case you main one gets mass-reported helps + I would advice to keep irl stuff away from your fandom stuff just in case.

This is going to sound stupid, but please keep in mind that this isn’t about you. These people are very miserable and not very smart. Even if they try to paint you like a bad person, they don’t know anything about you, so don’t let their judgment affect how you feel about yourself. This is exactly what they want – to have power over you.

Stay strong and take care of yourself, i.e. lock your acc and/or take a break if you feel overwhelmed. Don’t worry, it will pass: it’s very rare for these clowns to keep focus on one person for a long period of time; they have like 5 different dramas per day. There are some absolutely batshit crazy rapid assholes who won’t leave an artist alone for years, but those are super rare and special cases altogether, I don’t think you need to be worried about those.

Keep in mind which fandom you want to do this with, btw. It’s usually okay for the most part, but if the fandom is just a bunch of kids, it’s more likely not worth it or deserves an empty account, at least. Twst is surprisingly good despite anything it might look like! Thanks to Yana being a shotacon and a creator of Kuroshitsuji, I guess. There are many great and supportive people in the twst fandom, it’s been a pleasure to be here, even though, once again, it’s the first fandom where I got a bunch of callout posts and nasty stuff in my ask (SnK fandom usually harassed me for other things).

TL;DR: it is scary, and you could easily get callout posts about yourself, but guess what, you also get to be yourself. Because realistically, callout posts can’t stop you from creating art. They want you to believe that they have power over you, but this isn’t true. Your life online won’t end after some random callout post – mine didn’t. They also don’t understand that each consequent callout post affects the person being called out even less. We do have a minor panic attack for the first hour or so, and it does involve more extra blocking, but mostly it just sours our mood for the day and drops our morale. I still draw, though, out of spite a little lol Oh, and do try to report these types of posts if you get them, there’s nothing wrong with that.

People had been persecuted for their art and ideas for centuries, so what happens now is really nothing new. Without diving into specifics, there are way worse things they could do than writing callouts, but they aren’t super likely to do those. Luckily.

Take care of yourself, but also please don’t doubt yourself; when it comes to your art being way too fun for lovers of censorship to handle, you’re in a very good company. I’m referring to all the artist and writers of this world btw and not just me and Katsu lol but us as well!

#replies

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago

Text

Realize where you belong.

Chapter 9

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

CW: wholesome fluff, a good amount of angst, lo'ak being nosy lol jk he's genuinely trying to look after neteyam, descriptions of masturbation, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of depressive symptoms, reader meeting neteyam in her avatar body, neteyam and reader vent to each other about their struggles, sensitive themes, hurt/comfort, cuddling, sexual tension, kissing, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, neteyam slightly begging to mate with reader, foreplay (i don't know if it counts but it definitely is teasing in a sexual way). Tell me if I missed something ♡

Hello, my cute little readers! I got a little better in terms of my fibro flare up and have been feeling a little better emotionally/mentally these days, so, I was able to write again. There's a slight chance that some paragraphs are a bit confusing. I didn't fully proofread it. I'm sorry, my babies, I'm really tired right now, really achy, still. And I'm extremely hungry and there's some delicious homemade orange cake in front of me waiting to be eaten 😍 I've already eaten two pieces of it and drank a full cup of coffee with milk but I NEED to eat more bc I'm still starving and I love cake and coffee 🤤 idk about other countries but it's a tradition that we have here in Brazil to eat cake and drink coffee, together 🤍 anyways I gotta shut up now lol Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'd love to read your lovely comments down below 👉🏻👈🏻 I love y'all SO MUUUCH 😘

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 8

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

No way out of your quicksand

But I can breathe underneath

Take your love, cover me

Pull me down, pull me down

You are wonderful

You've taken all of my heart

It was so worth the fall

Don't let go

Quicksand (Bridgit Mendler)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Today you felt anxious but excited. It was your first day off in a week. You were gonna Dreamwalk in your Avatar today. But you were not gonna be on a solo mission this time. Neteyam would be by your side. You two had planned to meet each other next to the river you always loved to play in. You had always loved running water.

Having Neteyam around felt like a breath of fresh air to you since you never truly felt at home amidst other human beings and, after so many years, it started to feel like a joke to you to insist on trying to fit into a society that seemed to not even want you there, in the first place. Most people behaved towards you like you were weird in some way. Neteyam never made you feel that way. You did not know if it was in view of the fact that he was na'vi or if it was just because he was in love with you.

You had always preferred to live among plants, insects, songs, books, animals… on your own little world, since you were a little girl. Everybody used to call you a daydreamer, saying you had your head on the clouds. When you were a child, you did not let that get under your skin. That's the beauty of childhood wonder, it has a lot of wisdom in it that we seem to forget, once we start growing up. Your little self never cared about those "demonstrations of care and concern" (that were nothing but condescending criticism and you never understood why people tried to conceal that fact if it was so obvious) because you knew you were not crazy or completely oblivious to reality like they used to say. Your fun and whimsical inner world was what felt like home to you, not the everyday mundane routine, the protocols that seemed ridiculously stupid to you, the shallow conversations and gossip… the over-all human society. It fucking sucked, if you were going to be totally honest.

It's not that you hated your own kind. No. It's just that you hated the way they built their empires, throughout history, the tainted legacy the ancestors left for the ones to come in the future - like a dying Planet, for example -, because of their own stupidity and recklessness.

You knew you were not harming anyone - yourself included - despite always engaging in daydreaming, all alone, with your earbuds on or just staring at a beautiful landscape and your grip on reality was still in check. Your grip on reality was actually so tight, your fingers would get hurt and start to bleed sometimes, because reality is a double bladed sword. It keeps you safe and stable, it is needed for you to not go bonkers, but it also cuts you deep with its sharp edges.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam prepared to go out today to meet you during the day for the first time after the both of you became mates. It was just like Eywa had blessed him as he was able to finish all his duties to the clan and his training a little earlier than the usual today. Or maybe the Great Mother had nothing to do with it and it was all Neteyam making the greatest effort ever just to be able to spend some time with you in the daylight and finally see you in your na'vi body again. He missed seeing you like that. He missed the way your tail would wag softly showing you were feeling happy, he missed looking at your stripes and thinking they were the most beautiful stripes he had ever seen and most of all, he missed admiring the way you loved his planet, the way you respected and appreciated Eywa instead of hurting her.

When Neteyam was taking his bow and arrows and putting them on his back, ready to go into the woods to meet you, Lo'ak approached him, suspicious.

"Where are you going, bro?"

"To the forest. Maybe I can hunt for some food and if I'm lucky I'll bring us some good meat for dinner." Neteyam smiled and gave his younger brother a head pat, rapidly walking out of the Sully's hut door

Lo'ak wanted to yell something to his older brother, something like "I know there's something you're not telling me" but he did not. If Neteyam was hiding something, it would probably not be something that would harm him - Neteyam. Everybody knew how responsible - to the point of being annoying, sometimes - Neteyam was. Lo'ak used to get Neteyam into trouble all the time back when they were just teenagers and he was trying not to do that as much as he used to, even though he was not exactly doing a great job - he was doing a terrible job, actually - but he was still trying. He would still keep an eye on his older brother - "It seems like the tables have turned, huh?" Lo'ak thought - but he would leave him alone to do whatever he was going to do in the forest. He knew Neteyam did not have much free time for himself and he sometimes felt sorry for him, seeing him so tired and even stressed out really often because of his Olo'eyktan to be training and his responsibilities as the older brother. Lo'ak used to hold some grudges on his older brother when he was younger but now he understood that Neteyam actually struggled a lot too.

Neteyam pretended to not notice anything when he was leaving home but he did not fail to see the mistrust on Lo'ak's face. That was something he would have to deal with sooner than he wanted to, he acknowledged. He also thought about how his mother would react when she eventually finds out that her son, the future Olo'eyktan of their tribe, was in a relationship with a human girl. Neteyam did not want to disappoint his mother. He knew how proud she was of him and it hurt to think that she could start to think badly of him. He tried his hardest to whoosh those thoughts away.

༊⁀➷

The Pandoran sun shone bright up in the sky, its rays reflecting on your bioluminescent freckles, making them a little more evident on your skin. The soothing sound of the leaves dancing with the pleasant wind and the water running in the nearby river filled the atmosphere around you. You walked slowly towards Neteyam, adrenaline dancing around in your belly in a bittersweet motion.

When Neteyam looked at you, it was like lightning had struck him. Not a destructive kind of lightning but a good one, sweet in its intensity, falling strongly all over him. Neteyam was seeing you in your Avatar for the first time after you had become his mate.

Your mouth was somewhat open, revealing your upper teeth and your na'vi (Avatar?) fangs. Your gaze revealed how much you had anticipated that moment, how much you stayed up when you should be sleeping, thinking about finally being able to see the look in Neteyam's face when he saw you in your Avatar. You knew he had watched you while you were Dreamwalking too many times before but you never got to see the admiration in his eyes when he did so as he had been stalking you, not letting you know he was around. You had wished to see his beautiful golden eyes captivated by you for so long. You wanted to feel pretty and desired like that. And now you were finally experiencing it as Neteyam looked almost dumb with enchantment while he stared at you. But cute dumb, you know? So damn cute…

You stared back at him as you took the last steps towards the place where he stood, as if he was frozen.

Neteyam felt like he was not able to move as he took in how beautiful you looked. He had never seen your na'vi body so close to his own body and it felt overwhelmingly good to do so. His sweet yawne finally belonged to him and he could now touch you and hold you in the physical form he found you most beautiful in. It's not like he did not think you were madly beautiful and hot in your human body, he always wanted to pin you down and make love to you while he was close to your human form, but nothing compared to seeing you in your na'vi form, the form where you smiled the most, where you seemed so much more alive and full of lust for experiencing the world around you. That made you even prettier. Happiness looked pretty on you.

Neteyam was na'vi and his people did not have as many severe mental struggles like humans did but there were rare cases where some na'vi who went through terrible trauma in their lives did become uninterested in fighting their dark thoughts and they did become extremely depressed, though they could be cured from that illness through rituals that healed the spirit, performed by their clan's Tsahìk.

Neteyam was not blind or oblivious to things that were obvious to the naked eye. He knew that nobody would break down and cry as often as you did, only minutes after waking up in the morning, while getting ready for work etc if this person was not in an enormous amount of pain, the kind of pain that made them wish to disappear and never be found again. Thinking about his mate feeling that kind of sorrow made him feel like his heart was being torn into pieces, blood spilling from it like water spills from a fountain.

The reason why Neteyam was so determined to convince you to transfer your consciousness to your na'vi body forever was not some selfish wish, it was not just because he wanted to take you to his tribe and have you be his mate, be able to bond with you through tsaheylu every night and get to love your body, sharing his affection and sexual pleasure with you as well as feeling your own through the bond - even though that thought did wake up a raw, intense desire and need inside of him and he just could not stop himself from fantasizing about that while stroking his cock when he could be all by himself without any chance of disturbance. Neteyam also wanted to give you the opportunity to live a blissful and fulfilling life, a life where you would laugh way more often than cry. If he knew someone that deserved nothing less than that, that person was you.

If in the worst case scenario, you still felt so bad after you had your consciousness transferred to your na'vi body, Neteyam planned to ask his mother to perform a ritual that heals the spirit on you. Thinking about that, he suddenly felt anxious and he felt his heart tightening inside his chest. Neteyam had been trying not to worry about the fact that it would be extremely hard to convince his mother to accept you as his mate and perform the ritual of transference of consciousness on you but that thought had been eating him alive constantly, ever since he talked to you for the first time, outside of the laboratory’s kitchen window.

"Hi, muntxatan." (male mate) Neteyam's heart started beating quickly and it almost came out of his throat when he heard you calling him your mate in his people's language as you stopped in front of him and smiled widely, your eyes narrowing slightly. Those torturing thoughts about his mother trying to tear the both of you apart quickly were washed away from his mind by your presence. It was hypnotizing to him.

"Yawntu… You're just so beautiful. So insanely beautiful." Neteyam smiled, his eyes shining, still bewitched by you, and pushed you roughly against his body. He hugged you tighter than he ever did before since he knew he wouldn't hurt you by doing so when you're Dreamwalking. The size difference between the both of you was not that substantial anymore. His chin rested on the top of your head as he held you strongly against his body.

His roughness did not hurt you, on the contrary, it made you feel safe and protected to have his big - currently not huge, just big - arms around you, keeping your body close as your head was against his chest, your eyes shut and you could hear his heart beating fast. It made you indescribably happy to know that you were the reason for that quick heartbeat. You curled your lips up, smiling peacefully.

Peace. You spent so much time without feeling that but, after you accepted becoming Neteyam's mate, finally defeating your cruel fears, you started to feel peaceful way more often than you had ever felt in your life, even more often than you did when you were little.

Neteyam distanced your bodies a bit, still putting his hands on the sides of your arms, right below your shoulders and announced:

"Come! There's a place I wanna take you to." He took your hand and started walking in front of you, excitedly leading you somewhere

"Where are you taking me?" You smiled and chuckled softly, curious

"You'll see." It was all he said

Neteyam made you feel excited about little things, like you were just a child again, a feeling you hadn't felt in so, so long. After Neteyam came to your life, it was like he painted vivid colors on your once all too white and dull canvas. You almost shivered at the reminder that you nearly ruined your chance to have a love so pure and true such as this one because of fear of the unknown and refusal of getting out of your comfort zone.

After walking through the rainforest with you for a little while, Neteyam stopped in front of a tall, large tree and you soon recognized it. Its branches had clusters that were full of some beautiful fruits that reminded you of blueberries that used to exist on Earth, before they went extinct.

"Here. Do you recognize this tree? I've seen you look at it so many times. Were you wondering if the yovo fruits are safe to eat?"

"Yeah." You smiled bashfully "They look delicious."

"And they are. They're safe to eat, yawne. We can eat some now, if you want to." Neteyam smiled kindly at you. The fact that he remembered small details about you made your heart melt.

"I'd love that, Teyam."

Neteyam smiled, unbelieving.

"What did you call me?"

"Teyam…?" You furrowed your eyebrows "It's just a nickname I came up with for you… Do you hate it?" You contorted your features in a way that showed him you were feeling slightly insecure and embarrassed

"No! I love it, yawntutsyìp! I love it." He smiled and chuckled "I just wasn't expecting it. I love that my muntxate is calling me by a special nickname. Feels intimate." Neteyam came closer to you and held your face with both his beautiful strong blue hands

You looked up at his face with doe eyes and waited as you knew what was coming. You could feel it. The sneaky butterflies started flying inside your belly again.

Neteyam kissed you slowly, crushing his soft wet lips against yours. He pressed his lips on your mouth again and again for a short amount of time but it was enough to make your legs feel weak.

"Come, oeyä muntxate. I'll help you climb the tree."

Neteyam did as he said and soon enough you both were sitting on the wooden "floor" of the tree, sharing yovo fruits and eating them.

You two started to chill and talk about everyday life. It felt so good. It felt familiar, just like any relationship you had had before with a human guy, but better. So much better. Your alien boyfriend - mate? It felt so weird to say it like that… - made you feel things that none of your ex human boyfriends could ever dream to do. Neteyam made you feel understood. He did not judge you. He made you feel at home. Neteyam was becoming home for you.

You started to tell him how sad and done with everything you sometimes felt. Well, not sometimes… It happened all the time, even though it got better now that Neteyam was in your life. But you did not want to make him worry about you.

"You know, sometimes I feel like that too."

"What do you mean?" You questioned

"Like there's so much chaos inside that I just wanna talk to someone and vent. But I'm always so busy. There never seems to be time to find someone to do that with."

You were slightly surprised.

"Yeah, me too. Always too busy." You sighed "And exhausted, to be honest. Both physically and mentally."

"Well, I do have way more stamina than humans do" You laughed at Neteyam's teasing "But some nights I come home from training and after taking care of my siblings, really, really tired too. And I don't mean only physically."

"We have some stuff in common, don't we?" You pointed out, smiling

"We certainly do." He smiled back

You felt good knowing that.

Neteyam laid on the floor, right by your side.

"I'm full" He let out a laugh that sounded lovely in your ears while stroking his stomach.

"Me too." You laid on the floor too, just like Neteyam had just done. Your belly felt pleasantly filled up "But these fruits are so good I'd still eat a dozen of them." You playfully said, laughing

"Do you want more? I can get you some more." Neteyam gently offered

"No, it's okay, Teyam. I'm good for now." You smiled at him

Neteyam smiled back, showing no teeth, a soft, enamored look in his feline amber eyes.

You two spent some time together in comfortable silence.

"Oeyä muntxate?"

"Yeah?" You looked at him and let out a relaxed sigh, smiling softly

"Oel ngati kameie." He said, with vulnerable sincerity in his eyes

It seemed like he was gazing inside your very soul. Like his golden eyes could see something in you nobody else could. Like he saw who you truly were. Like Neteyam saw the good and bad and the ugly and the greatness and the doubts and the fears and the uniqueness and the ordinary parts of you, like he saw all of you, and it did not scare him off to see your dark side. You could feel he was staying for both your virtues and your vices. And maybe that's what "Oel ngati kameie" meant, when said to the one you're choosing to be your mate. Means connecting to someone in a raw, deep way, a way that nobody else is able to. A way that allows you to see the other person's flaws but not be afraid of them and try to find a way out. A way that allows you to see the grace in every little detail that that other soul has, to see the beauty in them that they themselves could never see.

"Oel ngati kameie…" You finally said, smiling, still not believing he had said those words to you

Neteyam smiled brightly while gazing into your eyes. He always looked deep inside your eyes… It felt almost too much but it still had just the right amount of intensity for it to be deliciously alluring instead of overwhelming.

Neteyam took your hand and intertwined your fingers on his. You felt the touch of his warm hand burning your skin in a pleasant way. After a few seconds, he kissed the back of your hand tenderly. You kept staring at both your hands glued together for a while.

"I wanna cuddle with you, oeyä muntxate." His voice brought your attention back to his face.

You could hear nervousness and need in his tone.

"Sure, yawne."

You were starting to really like calling Neteyam by na'vi pet names. The na'vi language was incredibly pleasing to the ears, in your opinion.

Neteyam started moving your body carefully, so you could lay on your side and when you obeyed, laying in said position, he himself laid on his side and pulled you in, making your body be as close to his as he could, your ass against his clothed member.

Your lungs started to do a poor job at helping you breathe now that the both of you were so close. You got nervous as you two had, yes, cuddled before, when you were in your human body, but he was never behind you like that, his body glued to yours. You knew he could feel your ass on his cock. Your heart was beating at the speed of light.

It did not take long for you to start to feel Neteyam was now fully erect, his cock pressed against your ass. You felt the inner walls of your pussy start to twitch and you got all wet, your juices spreading over your panties. Neteyam was so big and thick and your body responded like crazy to him.

It was a violent, invincible desire that made Neteyam cling so much to you, all the time. It would burn his insides, making him yearn for you, for your touch, for your warmth. There was no rational explanation inside his head for it. Neteyam could not understand it, he could only feel it covering all his being, exuding from his eyes whenever he looked at you, touched you, kissed you… He knew you could tell how much he was thirsty for you almost all the time. But Neteyam did not care about being so vulnerable. He wanted you to know what you did to him. Maybe like that you would surrender sooner and give yourself to him completely already. He felt so impatient. Everyday it was getting harder and harder for him to not take you in his arms and mate with you. This wait was killing him, day by day. It was like a slow and agonizing death. And now that he could smell your sweet juices so vividly, he felt like he could no longer hold back.

Neteyam pushed you even closer to him. You whimpered softly, the feeling of his huge, girthy cock pressed against your butt was divine.

Neteyam got you crazily wet just so quickly that it never failed to surprise you. He was like quicksand to you; you could try and run as much as you wanted but you would always end up being swallowed by his love.

"I need you so much, muntxate…" He cried out softly in your ear while rubbing his hard cock on your ass. "You're all wet for me. You smell so good, it's intoxicating." He sniffed the air, savoring your natural scent just like it was the most mouthwatering thing he had ever felt filling his sensitive nostrils "Please, lemme make you mine completely, my sweet yawne. Please…"

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@kitsunefirewail

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@a-blog-name-2003

@xylobee

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@henhouse-horrors

@lala-1516

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@avatar4eva

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@badbishsblog

@neteyamsmate4life

@c-h-i-l

@criticallybella

@celi-xxmoon

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illiterateaffairs · 11 days ago

Text

don't thank me | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (best friend/witch) + allison friendship :)

word count: 836

warnings: none!

summary: set in season 1, stiles decides to thank allison for getting lydia to go to the winter formal with him

author's note: the first of hopefully many shorter drabbles that follow stiles x bestie/witch!reader throughout the series that live in my newly minted 'every little thing' universe. i startd a masterlist linked above and will order them how i envision them taking place, and anything that veers off in a different direction will be labled "alternate endings". lmk if any of this makes any sense anyway enjoy and pls tell me what you think!!

“Allison, hey,” Stiles pants, walking up beside her with a pile of dresses in his arms.

She chuckles, watching him struggle to hold the clothes, “Having fun?”

“Yeah, the time of my life,” he jokes back, setting the stack down on a table beside them.

The two of them were shopping for the winter formal, along with you and Lydia. It had been less than an hour since he had learned that Allison had gotten Lydia to agree to go with him, and yeah it may have been because she owed her for making out with Scott behind her back, but that still meant he had a date with the girl he’s been crushing on since the third grade.

He thought he'd be more excited, but he’s chalking it up to the nerves and disbelief. Definitely not because he’d started questioning his supposedly platonic feelings for his best friend.

As he watches Allison browse the dresses on the rack in front of her, he can’t help but be interested in how she’d gotten Lydia to go along with this.

He clears his throat, “Um, so I guess I should be thanking you for setting this all up. I mean, I know it was because Lydia owed you, but you didn’t have to do this for me...”

Allison gives Stiles a small smile as she interrupts him, “I appreciate your appreciation, but I can’t take all the credit.”

He furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t really my idea as much as it was Y/N’s.”

Stiles is taken aback by this information, “What- Y/N’s?”

Allison nods, attempting to go back to nonchalantly looking at dresses, “Mmhmm. I was venting to her about the whole Scott-Lydia thing, and she mentioned how much it bothered you too, so…she suggested a way for Lydia to pay me back by also giving you a shot.”

After a few moments of silence, Allison turns her head and see’s Stiles staring blankly into space and has to hold back a laugh. “So, you should really be thanking her, not me.”

Stiles stutters and looks down at his hands, trying to figure out why this piece of information is bothering him, “What, uh, made her suggest that?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact you’ve been obsessed with Lydia since you guys were kids? So she tells me,” Allison murmurs, “I mean that's true right? You like her?”

“Lydia? Yeah of course, I mean what's not to like?” He stumbles, still not making direct eye contact with the brunette.

“Because if you’d rather go with someone else, you don’t have to…”

“Who else would I go with?” Stiles asks, finally looking up with his eyebrows pinched.

Allison shakes her head with a casual shrug, “I don’t know. You should go to formal with someone you really like.”

Stiles makes a face, “Do you really like Jackson?”

Allison rolls her eyes, “As a friend, yes.”

Stiles rolls his own eyes and looks away again.

“And you really like Lydia? Just Lydia?” Allison continues.

Stiles gives her a glance, wondering why she’s asking. “Yes…Lydia’s the only one I’ve ever liked.”

Allison hums. “Good. Then we’ll all have a lot of fun at the dance together.”

Stiles nods and gets lost in thought again. On the one hand, it makes sense why you, his best friend, would come up with a way for him to get a dream date with his crush. On the other hand, the idea of you so easily setting him up with someone else hurt his stomach.

He doesn’t get the chance to unpack that further as Lydia stomps up behind him, asking him to bring the dresses he’d collected for her to the dressing room. He internally groans, picking the stack back up and following her to said dressing rooms.

As Allison watches them walk off in amusement, you appear on her other side.

“Black or silver?” You ask, holding up two sets of heels. You watch her stare pointedly at you instead of answering, “What’s that face?”

“You’re still really going to stand there and act like you’re fine with Stiles going to the formal with Lydia?”

Your shoulders slump, “I told you to let it go - and you already went through with it, too!”

“Doesn’t mean I agree with it,” Allison sighs, “I don’t see how watching Stiles on a date with someone else is meant to help you move on if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

You shrug, “It makes him happy, that’s what matters to me.”

Allison inwardly rolls her eyes and goes back to the racks, “You’re both idiots.”

“What was that?” you ask after hearing her mumble.

“I said you’re a lovable idiot,” Allison grins at her.

You snort, and shove her lightly, “Silver or black?”

“Black,” Allison finally answers and you nod in thanks, turning to go buy your shoes.

Allison shakes her head watching you retreat.

Loveable idiots, the both of you. And one day you’ll both stop denying it.

author's note: in my head allison and stiles were best friends and deserved more scenes, so she is also besties with the reader because thats my best girl <3

#every little thing #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x witch!reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #mine #my writing

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angelxd-3303 · 4 months ago

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Tw: kind of a vent, mention of depression and anxiety.

I'm sure you've all noticed by now that I haven't been posting a whole lot as of late. To be honest, I've kind of been avoiding this blog, not because of anything my followers did, but mainly because I kind of lost the meaning of my art.

I started using Tumblr exclusively to use the messaging feature to chat with my partner four years ago, but decided to share some of my art, just for fun. I wanted to make people happy, wanted to use my art and writing to not only convey how I felt and what I was experiencing, but to help those going through something similar feel heard and seen. I feel like I have achieved that, in some cases, and it makes me feel good to know that I've made someone's day, or that my writing made them feel understood.

As time progressed though, I began to feel like I had an obligation. Art and writing began to feel more like a chore, and that combined with my resurfacing depression and anxiety made it nearly impossible to even pick up the pencil. It seemed more draining than anything, and the art I did make I didn't share because it reflected my mental state in a deep and personal way.

Tldr, I'm sorry to all the people who have been waiting for updates to my stories, or more Mario content in general, or answers to their asks. It's not that I don't want to finish them, or make more content. It's just that I've realized that my lack of motivation is coming from the fact that I'm making art that I think others want, and not art that I want.

I've been rediscovering Undertale lately, reminded of how amazing the game is and how deep the storyline is, and I want to make more content for that. I'm big into weirdcore and would like to explore it as a style. I want to revisit Dhmis and expand on their story. There's so much I wanna do, but I've been holding myself back and trying to make myself as enthusiastic about Mario as I was before. The truth is, hyperfixations come and go for me, and that's ok. Mario will probably come back here and there, but I'm gonna try to focus on the stuff that I wanna do, because that's when my art is best, and when I feel the best making it. I can't tell you how satisfying it was to draw that piece with Asriel and his parents! I was into Undertale when it first blew up, my friend and I, but left when the fandom began to get toxic. It's so sad to me how disturbed it was, but now I'm much wiser with regards to internet safety, and I know to avoid certain things.

It's very nostalgic for me to rediscover the game, the music I listened to on loop years ago, the amazing artists who had a pure and genuine love for the characters, all of it.

In short, Mario isn't gone, they're just off enjoying their happy ending for awhile before they feel like visiting again. Again, I hope you all understand, and can find content you love from my blog! From now on though, I'm gonna try to avoid forcing myself to make content I don't love. Because from the beginning my art has been an escape that made me happy. If it doesn't make me happy, what's the point lol?

I love and appreciate you all so much,and I hope you can understand this word vomit. Hope you all have a lovely day.

#mouse rambles #personal vent #tw mental health

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remithegayshoebill · 4 months ago

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⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ Remi's Coffee House ⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚

remithegayshoebill.tumblr.com my discord (PLS DM ME) remiwolf_00608 Welcome to Remi's Coffee House! Take a seat, relax, and enjoy your stay! ✨ (I stole this idea from @im-a-skeleton-in-your-closet who stole it from @margaret-the-duck)

Drinks ☕️ Espresso - 2$ I'll send you a daily positive affirmation for a week.

Americano - 3$ I'll share an interesting fact daily for a week.

Latte - 4$ I'll send you a daily funny meme or joke.

Mocha - 5$ I'll recommend a song based on your mood.

Flat White - 5$ I'll send an inspirational (or lqbtq+ just ask) quote every day for a week

Caramel Macchiato - 5$ I'll create a personalized playlist for you. Just tell me the genres and artists you like.

Iced Latte - 5$ I'll send a doodle of your favorite character. (may take a while)

Frappuccino - 6$ I'll share a funny or uplifting video every day for a week.

Chai Latte - Free You can vent or chat about anything for a day.

Hot Chocolate - 3$ I'll share a quote from a book I like every day for a week

Matcha Latte - 5$ I'll share a daily wellness tip or meditation guide.

Lavender Latte - 5$ I'll send a daily positive LGBTQ+ story

Rainbow Milkshake - 7$ I'll share a daily fun fact about LGBTQ+ history or culture.

Pride Punch - 6$ I'll recommend a queer-themed book, movie, or show to enjoy.

Specials 🌟 Pumpkin Spice Latte - 6$ I'll share a daily fall-themed recipe or DIY idea.

Unicorn Frappe - 7$ I'll send a whimsical drawing based on whatever animal you choose

Dragonfruit Refresher - 5$ I'll create a short fantasy-inspired book recommendation

Pink Drink - 4$ I'll send a positive news story or uplifting fact every day for a week

Rainbow Refresher - free I'll share a pride support resource.

Love Wins Latte - 6$ Love is love. I'll share a cute LGBTQ+ couple story or fact every day for a week

Snacks & Treats 🍪 Cookie - 3$ I'll assign you a unique color and animal combination.

Muffin - 3$ I'll send you a meme or funny gif that reminds me of you.

Croissant - 4$ I'll make you a moodboard based on your favorite aesthetic.

Piece of Cake - 5$ I'll send random happy messages or questions for a week.

Brownie - 6$ I'll write a personalized poem on a topic of your choice.

Macarons - 6$ I'll send daily aesthetic photos or ideas matching your vibe.

Pride Macarons - 7$ I'll share a daily LGBTQ+ artist or creator recommendation.

Rainbow Cookie - 4$ Colorful and tasty. I'll assign you a pride flag and a matching fictional character. (as in, ill introduce you to a not well-known flag etc. not assign you a sexuality or anything)

Cheese Plate - 10$ Savory and sophisticated. I'll curate a playlist based on your favorite artists or mood.

Café Gourmand - 10$ A delightful selection. I'll create a playlist for an emotion or fictional scenario you choose.

Sandwich - 12$ A hearty meal. I'll watch a movie or read a book you recommend and discuss it with you.

Rules 📜 For Followers:

Everyone starts with 25$ worth of orders. Please be patient; orders may take some time. Avoid overly personal requests if we don't know each other well.

For Mutuals:

Everyone starts with 75$ worth of orders. One order at a time, please. I'll work to get them done as quickly as possible. Thank you for visiting Remi's Coffee House! We hope you enjoy your stay. ✨💕 Remember, love and coffee are for everyone! 🌈 IT RESETS EVERY MONTH

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asimplearchivist · 6 months ago

Text

‘ 𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ you manage to impress the boys’ mysterious patron. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader | marc spector/reader | jake lockley/reader word count ☾ 6.8k a/n ☽ ⤏ this took wayyy too long but it’s finally done! now i get to work on the fun pieces since plot is out of the way! the next one should be a chapter taking place between i and ii, featuring the immediate aftermath of steven returning home from cairo! :) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER [TBA] ☽

The first time Steven had met you, it had been strictly by happenstance.

The first time Marc had met you, officially, it had been an accident.

The first time Jake had met you, it had been an inevitability.

The first time you met Khonshu, it was somewhat (if not mostly) expected.

It wasn’t long after you moved in with the boys (a couple of weeks, maybe)—almost a full year after officially beginning to date all three of them. It started with you finding the little Djehuty statuette that Steven had gifted you from Cairo’s backstreet markets turned onto its side where you kept it on the bookshelf over your side of the bed one morning after Jake had already left to start his driving. You had righted it, figuring that it had been knocked over by the bed shifting during the night—sometimes the books fell over because the mattress was propped up right against the shelves, and…well, sometimes things were moved around. Passionately. (Ahem.) You hadn’t given it any further thought beyond that.

…Until it happened again the next morning, anyway. Then the morning after that. And while your relationship with the boys was by no means lacking, you knew for a fact that it wasn’t your (albeit frequent) evening exertions that were upsetting the figurine that consistently.

The fourth morning in a row, you stood at the foot of the bed with your arms folded over your chest and your fingers drumming over your mouth. Steven was rustling around in the bathroom getting ready for his shift at the museum, and when he emerged, still trying to tame his unruly curls, he raised an inquisitive brow at your puzzled expression. “What’s wrong, love?”

You pointed at the statuette. “Poor Thoth keeps getting knocked over. I’m trying to figure out what’s causing it.”

“You don’t think…” He gestured vaguely towards the bed, cheeks darkening as his voice quietened bashfully. “...you know.”

“That’s what I thought at first, too, but it’s been every night recently. You guys were wiped out last night, so...” Your brow furrowed as you looked up into the rafters. “The vents aren’t strong enough to blow it over.”

“Maybe it happens when we swap the driver’s seat. I do know we toss and turn quite a bit.” Steven stepped in behind you, curling himself around your back and hooking his chin over your shoulder to tuck his nose behind your ear. “We can move him if you’re worried he’ll break.”

“Yeah…that’s probably a good idea. I’d hate for his beak to get chipped off or something.” You twisted in Steven’s arms and leaned up into his chest to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He’d gotten away with not shaving again (much to Marc’s chagrin, you were certain), and you caught a whiff of his cologne on his collar as you hugged him tightly. “Let me know if you want to meet up for lunch.”

“Will do, love. Be careful going to class.” He kissed your forehead, lingering just long enough to tempt you to drag him back to bed. “Laters, gators.”

“In a while, crocodile.” You waved him out of the door, then set about getting dressed to head up to the campus. You crawled over the mattress to scoop up the figurine carefully into the cradle of your palm, running your fingertips over the fine, hand-carved glyphs in the base of the polished lapis lazuli. You set it in the windowsill overlooking Steven’s crowded desk amongst your plants, smiling as the sunlight poured over it and cast its silhouette across his papers.

You found it knocked over again when you came home from your classes.

You got there before Steven did, thankfully, with fresh ingredients in tow for supper. You didn’t even notice it until you had put the dish in the oven to bake and wandered past his desk to grab a quick shower. The fallen statuette caught your eye because it was lying prone on top of one of the books Steven had left open, languishing in a trajectory of direct descent from where you’d set it that morning. Almost as if…well. Was the idea so far-fetched?

You had your suspicions, although you had dismissed them as silly at first. Odd, inexplicable, borderline supernatural things had happened in the time since you’d first met Jake. After a week or so of all three personalities getting acquainted with each other, Marc had sat you down to explain their story—the full one, starting with the untimely death of his brother. All the pieces that you had been given or had gathered yourself before then had been woven together that night during the long stretches of silence Marc had to take to organize his thoughts and to compose himself. It took well past midnight to get through it all since dredging up bad memories wore on Marc’s (admittedly limited) emotional threshold in ways you deeply sympathized. Despite the utter bizarreness surrounding the latter half of his life, it all made sense. You had no reasons to doubt him after everything that you’d witnessed since you’d met Steven in the first place.

…Although, the concept of him having served a real life Ancient Egyptian deity had certainly been a tough wad to chew, if you were honest. What you had always considered simple characters in the (supposed) myths related to the Ancient Egyptian pantheon were, in actuality, alive and kicking—and still involved in humanity’s affairs, to an extent (some more than others, obviously). You’d had to reassess all the knowledge you’d learned about the culture, and a long discussion with Steven about such implications had carried throughout most of the next day.

(You had thought it strangely fitting, though, for them to be the avatar of the god of the moon. It suited them in ways you could not express with words…save, perhaps, that white was one of their best colors.)

You weren’t privy to the renegotiation of the terms for their agreement with said deity, since they did it one of the following nights while you slept, but they had told you that morning that they would continue to act as the Moon Knight when time allowed or if pressing situations—strictly local, as they weren’t keen on traveling anymore unless it was strictly necessary—occurred that the rest of the pantheon couldn’t handle. They had been firm in their boundaries, for which you were thankful; hearing about the manipulation that the god had utilized to ensure Marc’s cooperation had made you sick to your stomach, so knowing that they had settled on an exchange that was comfortable for all three of them was an immense relief.

Since then, they only spoke of him like one would their annoying and somewhat demanding boss. You knew that he was condescending, arrogant, and lofty. He complained almost constantly. Steven said he reminded him of a petulant child who never got his way. But, for all that, you still had no idea how Khonshu really was in person, or what he even looked like—and you suspected part of their arrangement might have had something to do with that.

You still blamed the lunar deity for the strong drafts through opened windows that would scatter your papers while you worked on your projects, the blown light bulbs when you stayed up late with the boys, and the eerie shadows, silhouettes, or noises which you witnessed in the middle of the night while suffering with your insomnia, however. You couldn’t see nor hear him like they could, evidently, but you’d figured out rather early on that it could not be a simple coincidence that you had only just started experiencing your first paranormal activities after they had revealed their direct involvement with a primordial, eldritch entity.

Based on how infantile all three of your boys had described him to be, it would not have surprised you one bit to find out that Khonshu was defacing the one monument in the apartment dedicated to another god—even if it was completely unintentional on your part and was only meant for decoration as a sentimental keepsake (though you’d wondered about Steven, being the sneaky little troublemaker he could be when pressed to react to things spitefully).

You took a lingering gander around the apartment from where you stood, squinting into the shadows, but found no signs of the potential otherworldly intruder. Not that he would make himself known to you, you were certain—why would such a superior being stoop so low as to make himself known to a lowly mortal like you, after all? Just because you were in a relationship with his avatar? You found that notion highly unlikely.

With a sigh, you took poor Djehuty and tucked him into one of the upper drawers of Steven’s desk amongst loose papers and things in hopes that he would see no more abuse and left the room to clean up before the boys got home.

Still. If he could be so petty as to knock over such an insignificant bit of merchandise, then you could only imagine what his goals were. To frighten you? You were more intimidated by the thought of him having one wrong interaction with the boys, not with you. You didn’t have as much to lose to his malicious tactics in mental warfare. You were troubled, sure—you’d never dare claim that you were totally sound—but you were acutely and worriedly aware of the fact that Marc’s system was still more precarious than you’d like to openly acknowledge.

They’d adjusted to each other for the most part. Consulting their therapist had helped immensely—to your great surprise, Jake had taken quite the liking to talking with her despite how closeted he’d acted with you at first. He’d fared better once he was exposed, forced to reveal himself, like you’d expected. Marc had been deeply suspicious and untrusting at first, but Steven had been the first to cross the gap to bridge mutual understanding between the three of them. They bickered endlessly, just like brothers, and now that they were fairly comfortable with each other you found it more endearing than anything. You were glad they were finally getting along…at least until another quibbling argument came up, anyway (although they were rarely serious, fortunately). They could treat each other with the silent treatment like nobody’s business; whoever caused the offense usually would come to you to try to remediate things, but you tried to stay out of their quarrels as tactfully as possible. (You knew it was healthy for them to work through their problems on their own, as their therapist had suggested to you once during one of your occasional requests for advice on how to handle them with care and respect rather than ignorance and disregard—but damn if it wasn’t hard to ignore their puppy-dog eyes.)

But they still had their bad days—everyone did, and with fewer issues and traumas to work through, too. Those were the days you worried about them most: when whoever was fronting was quiet—not from immature sulkiness, but from feeling melancholy about whatever was bothering them. Those were the nights that you guarded them jealously, holding them close and giving them all the extra love they would never readily admit that they needed nor wanted—all for fear that their own personal specter would come and haunt them at the most inopportune of times in his own avidity.

To your distress, it seemed that night would be one of those—you sensed it even before you laid eyes on the man wedging the door open and shuffling through the too-narrow gap he afforded himself. In the middle of divvying out the food onto plates, since he’d texted you when he’d reached the bus stop near the complex so you’d know it was him at the door, you’d glanced over your shoulder to confirm your unfortunate gut feeling.

Chin tucked against his clavicle, Steven went about toeing off his shoes and putting away his things as quietly as possible, almost as if he were afraid to draw your notice or to disturb you. He shed his jacket, shook it out, and hung it up without even looking in your direction.

“Steven,” you said gently, but even that low tone still made him jump and jerk to stare at you with rounded eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry. Are you okay, baby?”

And just like that, what little resolve he seemed to be clinging to crumpled like wet paper. He grabbed at his frazzled hair with both hands and hid his face behind his forearms, already startling to sniffle and shake, clearly overwhelmed and finally having reached the tipping point for the day.

You padded across the floor to him as quickly as you dared, taking care not to make any extra noise or sudden movements, recognizing his reaction and knowing that any sudden stimuli would only worsen his condition. You brushed your fingertips against his elbows to let him know you were there, lightly touched his shoulders with a soft, inquisitive hum. He lowered and opened his arms to make room for you, but he kept his head down until he could bury it into the crook of your neck with a miserable, warbly sound that rent your heart in two.

“Hey, darlin’,” you murmured, gently pulling him into a hug that he returned fiercely, like one would a life preserver. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Y’didn’t,” he mumbled, scruffy lips brushing against your shoulder as his warm breath bloomed over your skin. “Just…had a day, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you sympathized. “Was the noise too much again?”

“Yeah. Kids were loud. Teens were louder. Ran into Donna when I was clockin’ out.”

Ah, hell. That always made everything ten times worse. That devil woman epitomized the mountainous stress Steven had felt when he thought he was losing his mind, so when he had the bad luck to bump into her—especially when he was overstimulated—brought a lot of that back to the forefront…to him and to you, both.

You remembered that fateful morning that he’d come to the bookstore seeking solace, how hard it had been to restrict your nigh unignorable concern for him in that state wandering off chasing a lead that sounded like it had been pulled straight out of a spy film, how badly it had upset you to see him so distressed and confused and frustrated—all right before he’d disappeared off the face of the planet for two of the longest weeks of your life and had faced a hell unlike anything you could ever possibly imagine.

“You don’t have to talk it out if you don’t want to,” you told him, reaching up with one hand to run your fingertips through the curls bordering the nape of his neck while the other rubbed circles between his shoulder blades. You rested your chin on his shoulder, too, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your breast with how tightly he was crowded against you. “You want to sit for a minute? Want me to turn some of the lights off?”

“No, I’m…I’m all right. Thank you, love.” He drew in a deep, shaky breath, fingers digging into your back, and released it slowly. “Might wash off first, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” you responded. “Do you need anything in the meantime? A cup of tea?”

He paused, hesitant. “...Chamomile?”

“On it.” You turned your head to press a chaste kiss beneath his ear. “You know that you can always ask me for anything. I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“So you’ve said.” Lots of times, actually, and yet he still didn’t quite seem to believe your generosity. You’d long since learned not to take offense by that incredulity, and he’d gotten much better about accepting it since you’d both admitted your feelings for each other—but he’d been mistreated and disregarded for so long that his old insecurities bubbled back up when he hit a low like this. “Still think I’m incredibly lucky to have you, love.”

“And I’m so very blessed to have you, darlin’.” You leaned back just enough to peer up at his tender, watery eyes through his unruly, tangled curls. Out of habit you reached up to comb them back, even though you both knew they wouldn’t stay there for long. “I switched out the wash, so your favorite sweats are dry. They’re in the top of the drawer.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, smiling softly. He reciprocated the kiss between your brows, lingering there as he subtly smelled your skin and the products perfuming it. “Want to pick somethin’ on the telly in the meantime?” Meaning he wouldn’t mind the noise.

“Sure. I’ll put your plate in the oven so it doesn’t get cold.” You leaned forward and up to catch him in a full, loving kiss before releasing him. “Don’t forget that it’s your treatment night.”

“Right.” He offered you another grin, slightly more relaxed and genuine. Marc and Jake were more fastidious and consistent about tending to their hair than Steven was, since he often needed reminders of what he needed to do to it and when, but you just considered it a part of your job to help keep them looking as gorgeous as ever. “See you in a mo’.”

“Take as long as you need,” you told him, but gave him a wink. “But not too long, or I might join you.”

That managed to coax a boyish little chuckle out of him, and your nerves dissipated for the most part. It didn’t seem like the sensory overload wasn’t as bad tonight as it had been in the past, thankfully. That he was willing to watch some TV was a good sign, although you were already thinking up some lower energy series or movies that wouldn’t push it (or him).

Steven always turned into a cuddle bug when he needed some quiet time, so you made the necessary preparations. You put the kettle on the stove, turned off most of the lights despite his gentle protest, and brought the blanket from the dryer to drape over the couch so you could wrap the both of you up in it. By the time you were getting his cuppa ready, he shuffled back into the main section of the apartment while rubbing his eyes.

“Not sure I can last a full film, love,” he mumbled as you herded him to the couch, setting him down with the blanket over his lap and placing the saucer and cup in his hands. “Somethin’ quick to get us through eatin’, maybe?”

“Sounds good to me. Some of our channels updated.” You bustled back into the kitchen to grab the food, then settled in next to him. “Are you feeling fashion history or archaeology?”

He hummed a bit into his tea, then set it down on the coffee table so he could dig in to the meal you’d prepared. “Fashion. That hand-stitching is so mesmerizin’.”

It also put him to sleep faster than any ASMR he’d ever tried at the peak of his supposed sleepwalking issues—he’d laughed at that realization once you’d introduced him to the genre, shaking his head all while fighting to keep his eyes open.

You leaned over to bump your shoulder against his affectionately as you grabbed the remote and began to scroll through the tabs. “Look, she’s made a Darcy shirt this time. I should make you one, too—course it would probably spend more time on the floor than on you, sadly.”

“All that hard work, just to catch dust,” he mused, eyes glittering with mirth. “I love you.”

“A shame, truly.” You pressed your cheek against his arm as you pressed play. “I love you, too, baby. We’ll hit the hay early tonight so you can recuperate better, okay? I’m tired, too.”

“Yeah.” He nuzzled the top of your head with a low, rumbling sigh of contentment. “Can’t argue with that.”

You forgot to bring up the statuette like you’d planned to.

You had always been a heavy sleeper by nature, growing up never having to share a bed and owning a room all to yourself. Perfect darkness and background noise usually in the form of the AC or thunderstorms on a noisemaker helped to lull you asleep since you were a bit of a chronic night owl. Once you succumbed, though, you slept like a corpse—or so you’d been told.

But when you’d moved in with the boys, you’d faced a long adjustment period. It didn’t help that they were relatively light sleepers—and while Marc struggled the most with night terrors, the others didn’t have an easy go of it, either. Insomnia reared its ugly head at times, and you always tried your best to stay up with them when their body couldn’t shut down, but—more often than not, unfortunately—you ended up drifting off despite your best of efforts. They didn’t seem to mind, though, and Steven had been the most vocal about it; he cited that it was soothing to have you there, even if you were “snoozin’ away,” because it gave them a reason to stay still. Whether you were holding them or vice versa, each one of them had confessed that having you there resting at their side helped them to relax to an extent, even if they didn’t end up catching a wink. You told them once that simply laying there with their eyes closed still gave their body much-needed time to decompress, and their restless frustration seemed to ease after that.

Thankfully your body had finally grown accustomed to sharing a bed with someone else since then—and your quality of rest had even improved by being so close to the men you loved.

Despite their mental struggles, you did wonder why they struggled as much as they did at times because they worked their collective ass off constantly. Two jobs to keep the bills paid plus occasional ventures out into the night at Khonshu’s behest meant that—when their schedules overlapped too frequently for too long—they’d get overloaded and thus severely fatigued faster than what made you comfortable. This often led into the mental breakdowns usually prompted by overstimulation and thus resulted in taxing them beyond what a single night’s rest could manage.

Poor Steven could barely keep his eyes awake once he fed himself full (and didn’t manage to eat the whole serving, either). He slipped off at some point during the meal, head falling to rest on your shoulder. You almost hadn’t the heart to rouse him again, even if it was to gently coax him to go brush his teeth and settle into bed while you put the dishes in the sink to be washed in the morning. By the time you turned out all the lights, cleaned yourself up, and climbed under the covers, Steven was adamantly futzing with his phone in a plain effort to remain awake—for your sake, likely.

“Want me to put that on the charger?” you asked softly as you crawled closer to him.

He glanced at you, eyes bleary, and nodded as he handed it to you. “Yeah. Thanks, love.”

“Of course.” You took it and twisted onto your side, fumbling for the cord and setting it on the shelf over your side of the bed. You then snuggled up to his side since he opened his arms to you. You maneuvered your pillow to cushion his bicep and you laid your temple there with a contented sigh, curling an arm over his chest and relaxing as his own coiled around you. You tipped your head to kiss his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, poppet,” he mumbled, and with a quick peek you saw that his eyelids were already shut. “G’night.”

You smiled softly and stilled. “Good night, boys. See you in the morning.”

Steven hummed, an absentminded sound indicating how close he was to tipping. You weren’t terribly far behind him yourself.

It wasn’t until the faint flicker of a light against your eyelids in the other end of the apartment made you realize you’d dozed off.

You sluggishly lifted your head and blinked rapidly to clear your vision, squinting through the dim into the cavernous room. The bookshelves were arranged in such a way that the majority of the bedroom space was hidden away from the rest of the apartment, but through the narrow gaps between and above the rows upon rows of books you saw only darkness. The few beams of moonlight spilling through the windows offered little in the way of illumination.

You watched for a moment, confused and dazed and struggling to keep your eyes open. After at least half a minute of not seeing anything, you dropped your head back onto your pillow with a soft sigh. The man next to you snuffled in his sleep, tugging you a bit closer with an indistinct mumble. You closed your eyes with a low, flat hum.

Clack. Thump. Clack. Thump. Clack. Thump.

Your body jolted, neck straining as your head jerked back up. The surge of alarm that coursed through your bloodstream in an instant cleared more of the fog from your mind. You shivered as the temperature of the room seemed to dip. Frissons rocketed over your skin and caused every last hair to stand on end. You braced an elbow beneath you to sit up, apprehensive.

Was that…a silhouette in the dark, or were you seeing things?

The lights flickered again. A looming, eldritch specter cast a shadow over the bed in that split second of clarity that stung your eyes and caused them to water before the room was plunged once more into pitch black. You reached down on instinct, hand lighting on the arm still slung around your waist. Your voice emerged shaky and hoarse, terribly quiet. “Baby.”

Like the result of an incantation, the man lurched. You didn’t dare to tear your eyes away from the now empty space where you swore you had seen a ghost, but your pulse began to thrum in the pit of your throat as he stirred with a grumble. “...Wh’s’it?”

“Tell me I’m not seeing things,” you whispered, so softly that you almost didn’t hear it over the thundering in your ears—was that ringing simply tinnitus or something else?

“What’re you…talking about?” The hand at your abdomen cupped your belly, and you stole a glance down at the heavy-lidded eyes peering up at you bracketed by thick lashes. Marc looked confused, and you wondered at this being the one time that the body seemed to have relaxed enough to enter such a deep sleep…or whether they had simply been that tired.

“Marc,” you breathed, tipping your head forward. “I don’t know, but…I think…is it—?”

A cold chill made you shiver again, and this time you felt Marc’s body stiffen. His hand slipped up to your sternum, fingers spreading over your chest, flat and firm as though ready to pull you down with him. He was still struggling to wake up, you could tell, but the sharp crescents of the white of his sclerae against his umber irises cutting towards the same direction at which you’d been staring was telling enough.

You found yourself holding your breath as he watched for a long, tense moment. His arm flexed, ready to anchor you down. Then he let out a gruff, low huff and croaked, “...You’re not supposed to be here.”

You strained your ears and eyes, trying to pick out any indication of what—or whom—he spoke to, but now you only saw the bookshelves amongst the moonlight and the shadows.

“I don’t care. This was part of our agreement.”

You glanced back at him again in trepidation.

“No. It doesn’t matter. You know that you’re supposed to—” His jaw clicked shut, and you watched the tendon flex at his temple in agitation. He scowled. “You can’t be serious.”

“Marc,” you said softly, stomach twisting.

He squeezed his eyes shut, drew in a deep breath, and held it. You felt his fingertips drum in time over your shirt: one, two, three…then he exhaled slowly. Then he looked up at you. “Got to go, baby,” he murmured, and you saw that he could scarcely still keep his eyes open.

You stared at him for a long moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. You frowned at him. “No.”

Marc’s brow softened just slightly as he pressed lightly on your chest. “Hey, it’s fine. Something came up. I’ve got a job to do. I’ve tried not to let it interfere so far, and nothing’s really happened, but there’s—”

“It is in the middle of the fucking night, Marc Spector,” you hissed. “It’s obvious that you’ve all had a day from hell, and you don’t need to be gallivanting across rooftops as exhausted as you are. It would benefit no one if you got hurt in the process, or slipped up and accidentally got someone innocent involved.”

“I know it’s not ideal,” he tried to soothe, tipping his chin up and relaxing his expression. “But it’s not just something that I can let slip by.”

“I think the fuck not,” you muttered, pushing his shoulder down as you sat up and faced the darkened interior of the flat. Your voice grew firm, echoing off the walls. “Khonshu?”

Marc tensed, his fingers coiling around your wrist as he opened his mouth, but you didn’t falter.

“Steven and Jake are working two different jobs to make ends meet since you don’t exactly offer any benefits,” you began tartly, “on top of taking many of their nights to follow you around…God knows where doing God knows what. They’ve had a long week to boot. I respect that you’re trying to keep us all safe in your own weird, misguided little way, but I’m sure putting away petty criminals can wait. If you don’t have a world-ending emergency queued up for them to solve, then I don’t want you to set foot near them again until the weekend is over. They need to get some damned sleep.”

Marc murmured your name, but he was obviously fading fast despite his persistence—a testament to their weariness. You smoothed your palm over the slope of his arm without looking away from the shadows stretched out across the hardwood floors. The eerie, anticipatory silence made you shiver again, the weight of the air in the room threatening to suffocate you.

Marc flinched under your touch at the same time that the lights flickered ominously. His eyes cracked open again—but just barely—and fixed on an otherwise empty portion of the room (closer to the bed, you noticed). His free hand curled into the sheets with whitened knuckles.

You had the distinct impression that someone was staring right at you. The prey-driven portion of your brain, the flight instinct, was screaming at you to cower and duck, hide and wait until the danger passed over. But this was the love of your damned life, and you would sooner die than back down to some dusty ancient deity who felt a little too entitled to the body he inadvertently shared with you, now. So you ground your jaw, held your ground, and trained your glare on the place Marc was watching with bated breath.

You swallowed thickly. “With all due respect,” you said, low and terse, “fuck right back off into the cosmos where you came from, Khonshu. Come back Monday night.”

Marc breathed your name, something like fear couched in his raspy tone.

You waited. No more lights, no more sounds. Then, like taking a breath of fresh air after being underwater, the pressure in the room lifted in a heartbeat—you swore that the temperature rose by several degrees. Your anxiety settled almost instantly, but you only let your guard down once Marc’s rigid frame loosened and sank back into the mattress.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

You released a heavy, shaky breath. “He’s gone?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think he’d—”

“I’m tired, honey.” You clamped a hand over your mouth as a yawn forcibly rent your jaw open. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Baby—”

“Marc,” you sighed, just a hint of a whine creeping into the edge of his name. “Please. Just go back to sleep.”

His hands guided you as you settled back down against his chest. He tugged the sheets up and over your shoulder, fingertips brushing the shell of your ear in so doing. He nuzzled into the nape of your neck and let out a sound of disbelief.

“What?” you mumbled, already fading fast after the unexpected adrenaline surge.

“...You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” you returned dryly. “He’s not going to come into my damn house and jerk you around like you don’t belong to someone else.”

Marc’s sleepy chuckle was warm, low, and rumbled against your spine. “He won’t be happy about it.”

“He can go cry to pantheon HR or whatever the hell. I won’t let him walk all over you.”

“I think he’s learned that now.” He laid a gentle, lingering kiss below and behind your ear. “...I love you, baby.”

You leaned back to press the length of your body against his. “I love you, too.”

“I had an interesting conversation this morning, querida.”

You roused, mostly from the voice rumbling in your ear, but also from the lips skimming up the slope of your shoulder and neck. You shivered as the stubble scraped against your sensitive skin, fumbling with a heavy hand behind your head until your fingers wove their way into the meticulously gelled curls brushing the shell of your ear. The resulting sigh that shuddered over your warm flesh sent gooseflesh erupting over your skin.

“Mmm? With whom?” you mumbled, tilting your chin to allow him more room.

“El pájaro de la muerte,” Jake murmured.

Your eyes shot open and you leaned back enough to squint at him through the crust blurring your vision. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to get you guys in trouble, I just wanted—”

“Ssh,” he chuckled, reaching over you to cup a hand around your cheek to draw you into a sweet, chaste kiss. “No one’s in trouble, least of all you or me.”

You frowned, wiping your eyes clean with your fingertips before resting your hand over his. “But…Khonshu isn’t upset?”

“Oh, no, he’s livid.” Jake’s eyes glittered with mischief.

You sat up slowly, glancing across the interior of the apartment with no small amount of trepidation. The tepid morning light steeped through the windows, providing lukewarm gray light that offered little warmth or illumination. So goulish silhouettes were to be seen, no haunting supernatural phenomena to be had.

“He’s not here—off pouting on top of a skyscraper all sulled up, more than likely.”

“I wasn’t trying to butt into your business. I know that it’s…complicated between you two.” Your lips thinned. “I just don’t like that he jerks you boys around, even after you talked things out with him and made an agreement. Supposedly. But I worry about Marc especially.”

“Oh, he knows by now that he’s stuck in here with us, not the other way around.” Jake flashed you a devilish grin and tapped his temple. “I made sure of that. Between Steven and I, he won’t give Marc any more trouble like he used to. That’s why I made it a point to talk to him this morning.”

You gave him a soft smile of relief. As far as he had come—as all of them had come—you still fretted. Needlessly, perhaps, but…well, it was one of your greatest talents.

But despite the fright it had given you, and the agitation you’d felt towards the deity (about whom you couldn’t decide was more realistic an option: that he simply felt he stood too far above you to reveal himself, or that he felt too uneasy to do so…had your bluff worked?), you had to admit to your curiosity—which had arguably piqued since you’d inadvertently interacted with him for the first time on a somewhat official basis.

“...What did he say about me?” you asked him with no small amount of trepidation.

“He said you have ‘too much audacity to contain in one frail mortal body’ and that you ‘would only bring trouble in your wake’. You royally pissed him off.”

Your brows furrowed in concern. “Then why do you look so smug?”

Jake’s grin broke out into a full, beaming smile. “Because I’ve never seen anyone able to get under his skin like that—not even the last guy. He didn’t stop talking about you the whole damn night, kept tossing around threats that he’d send you packing.” He laughed, then, a bright, boyish sound. “I think he likes you.”

“I…how on earth would you get that conclusion?” you questioned dubiously.

“Because I finally told him that you weren’t going anywhere,” Jake said plainly. “You’re our girl—you take care of us, make sure we stay running at top efficiency. If he wanted you gone, then he’d have to find a new avatar, too. He got real quiet after that.”

You shook your head. “...I still don’t see how that could possibly mean that he likes me.”

“Because he told me that you’d make a suitable replacement.” Jake’s eyes twinkled, belying the worry you might have felt knowing that Khonshu would ever consider you to be his ‘fist of vengeance’. “He used that as leverage against Marc while he was still married to Layla, but I’ve learned that Khonshu is very picky about who he chooses to be his fantoche. Only those he thinks have the most potential make the cut. We know better than we used to—you’d have to agree to his terms and conditions for that to happen, and you’re a smart enough cookie to call him on his bullshit, just like Layla did—just like you already have.” He stooped down and nuzzled into your neck, laughter still brimming from his belly. “I told him that he’s going soft.”

You couldn’t say that your peace of mind was any more alleviated than before, or that you understood completely, but as long as a literal ancient god wasn’t threatening the wellbeing of yourself or your lovers, then you supposed you shouldn’t press the issue.

“So…” you started tentatively, “does this mean I have his seal of approval?”

“Not that you needed it in the first place from a dusty old dirtbag like him,” he snorted, pulling back to eye you appreciatively, “but I’d say he likes your spit and vinegar. He did say he was surprised that you didn’t back down from him.”

“I didn’t even see him.” You raised a brow. “Did he really say that?”

“Basically. But the semantics don’t really matter.” Jake nudged your chin with the crook of his finger. His tone deepened. “You stood up to the god of vengeance without flinching once—for our sake. I’d say that you’re deserving of a reward after that.”

Heat crowded your cheeks as your body instinctively responded to the memory of that particular register. And even as he leaned in to pepper kisses along your mandible, fingers closing carefully around your throat to anchor you in place, your mind recalled the one detail that had consequently initiated your exasperation with their patron to start with.

“Will you ask him to stop knocking over the figurine that Steven got me in Cairo?” you complained, making him draw back slightly in surprise. “I don’t want him to break it, but if he does then he’s getting me a new one. It’s special to me.”

“It’s an image of another god,” Jake chuckled, lips curving as he returned his attention to your neck. “Of course he’d be jealous.”

“Jealous?!” you protested, hands falling onto his shoulders. “Why would he be jealous?”

“He’s used to commanding total devotion. Iconography not related to him is offensive.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips found the tender place behind your ear once again. “That sounds like something Steven would say.”

“He did, actually.”

“Steven acted confused about it, though.”

Jake chuckled, wedging himself closer. His hand slipped to the middle of your back so he could leverage you back into the mattress. “Oh, he was, but you know him—he figured it out pretty quick.”

You gave him a dubious look. “Why didn’t he say anything? I was almost convinced I was going crazy.”

“He was being a smug little shit about it. He likes getting under Khonshu’s feathers.”

“He has feathers?”

“Not that I’ve seen—it’s figurative.” He snorted and kissed you. “Now hush and let me do my thing.”

“And here I thought you didn’t like referring to women as objects.”

Jake huffed a laugh and reached for the hem of your sleep shirt.

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beevean · 8 months ago

Text

Some other thoughts, because I cannot and will not shut up.

This is Hector and Isaac's very second scene in the show. Hector ends up staring at Dracula's fireplace: he reminisces of his abusive parents, and how he set his house on fire with them inside. This immediately tells us, along with Dracula's speeches, what kind of person Hector is: despite his apparent softness that we'll see later on, he can be ruthless enough to kill, or at the very least punish, those who have wronged him.

Much later, Hector has been brought to the lowest point of his life. He's listening as the woman he has given his heart to is gleefully humiliating him in front of her sisters, describing in detail how he's going to be treated as a tool, as a dildo, as a pet, and only because he trusted the wrong person. Multiple times, in fact. He has been hurt by one too many people.

And by the time Hector's fate is sealed, the fireplace acts as the framing.

Basic cinematic symbolism indicates that Hector's backstory would be become relevant in the next season. As a child, he killed his abusers. And now he's in the clutches of two other people who abused his trust and good nature and stripped him of all freedom and dignity.

So, was Hector meant to set the entire castle on fire, and kill Carmilla and Lenore for what they did to him? And then it was changed to make the season artificially happier? Would it have been the narratively more sensible course of action?

Well, not necessarily. As fun as it is to imagine Hector taking revenge on those two pieces of shit, subversion of expectations can still be done well. And, to be fair, while Hector did kill his parents and is certainly not above murder in general, he seems to not be inherently violent in nature, even against someone who hurt him:

Carmilla has lied to him, insulted him, and coerced him into indirectly killing his master. He still speaks to her very candidly.

From what was shown until S3, Hector needs to be pushed to his absolute limit before he starts considering violence, but once he does, he has no mercy. The most obvious proof is his disastrous attempt to threaten Lenore:

Yeah, as ill thought as this was, I don't blame him for being this desperate, after the torture he was recently put through. From a certain perspective, it would have been nice to see a recreation of this scene, but with a Hector acting smarter, having learned from his mistakes.

However, to be honest, I don't think that seeing such a gentle character being brought to horrific violence would have been cathartic. It would have been tragic. It would have been actually a bad thing, a reason to be scared and to pity him. And it still wouldn't have addressed his utter apathy when it comes to keeping humans in a cage: hell, that act would have made him as bad as Isaac in S3.

With that being said, I will never, ever, accept how he was written after that scene.

I'm going to use an excellently written show to talk about the difference between taking the high road, and forgiveness.

Our good horseman here has been abused since infancy by his utter monster of a mother, who delighted in making him feel guilty for daring to be alive. Long story short, she is now old, weak, and senile to the point where she can't recognize him anymore. Bojack is planning to finally vent all of his anger for all she did to him, as soon as she's lucid enough - and who could blame him? By this point, no one would shed a tear for a woman who did her very best to ruin her son's life. Hell, some might have cheered when he more or less bullied her by "killing" her doll. No mercy for an abuser, right?

However, in a brilliant display of foreshadowing, the audience is made to suspect that Bojack won't actually get to tell his mother off. He already wasted the seasonal F-bomb here! And there are no freebies. So what's going to happen? Will Bojack simply be prevented from finally facing the woman who ruined his life, deprived by outside circumstances of the catharsis he needs?

youtube

No. He does it himself.

Right when he has Beatrice where he wants, in a terrible retirement home and finally lucid enough to recognize her son... right after she has committed her last unforgivable act and secretly poisoned Hollyhock with appetite suppressants until she overdosed... Bojack chooses to not hurt her.

He could have. She would have listened to him. The viewers would have understood. But instead, the last moment Bojack could talk with his mother is used to soothe her confusion and fear, and give her a comforting vision where she can feel loved and like everything is alright.

Bojack is not one to do selfless acts without getting anything in return, and he doesn't know anything about her terrible past that we viewers have witnessed through the episode that explain why she was so bitter towards her son: so this act of pity towards the person he hates the most in his life speaks wonders of his character and growth.

But he did not forgive her. The entirety of Free Churro is dedicated to Bojack's painful eulogy of Beatrice, where he makes clear that he still resents her, and the only reason he's sorry for her death is that now he knows that he has lost the chance to have a good relationship with the one who was supposed to care about him.

Beatrice was shown wanting to reconnect with Bojack, almost as an apology. But even if her personality didn't got in the way of a proper reconcilement, nothing she could have done would have made up for the pain she caused Bojack, and he's right in still remembering her as a cruel person. But still, we remember that one moment of kindness he gave her as one of the most powerful scenes in a powerful story, for the build-up and for the significance it has for both characters.

Bojack Horseman did a wonderful job in exploring the complicated feelings that arise from being a victim of abuse. It's not just hatred and desire for revenge: there is a deeper connection, and care despite everything, and regret, and longing, and wishful thinking, and all sorts of uncomfortable feelings that are hard to explain to someone on the outside.

Needless to say that Netflixvania only wishes it could have reached the heights of Bojack Horseman, and Hector is not conflicted about Lenore. He's not anything. He shows no tension when he talks with her as if they were friends (it's the very first scene we see with them after Hector cried over being made a slave in S3); he shows no resentment when he talks about the ring that she forced on him to make him a useful tool, as he was a mere "problem to be solved"; his one attempt to address what Lenore did to him is brushed off as a sick joke that he takes in stride; he shows no confusion in his attempts to reconcile the Lenore who talks to him like someone worthy of respect with the Lenore who sadistically took advantage of his vulnerability to trap him. And needless to say, Lenore doesn't exactly get a good justification as to why she thought to resort to rape by deception to get her way, leaving fans to scramble to find one that still leaves her sympathetic enough.

It's only when Isaac storms the castle that Hector finally shows the slightest twinge of resignation when he cages Lenore to allow him to do his thing, but also to protect the woman who apparently protected him as well. Only now there is emotion in his voice, care and regret at the same time. Once more, much like Alucard killing Dracula, it's a big emotional payoff to nothing - worse than nothing, even.

Hector leaving Lenore alive, even protecting her from Isaac, could have been him taking the high road. Instead of going on a rampage like subtly implied by the framing, he could have shown her pity, for understanding that for all her cruelty and manipulation, she too was just a pawn in Carmilla's insane scheme (admittedly the parallel intended by the narrative, but not addressed enough). It would have fit with the general idea that revenge is for children (the development that was given to Isaac), and perhaps, in a way, we can consider it the fitting punishment for Lenore: being precisely being forced to live and see what exactly she has become. If written well, the subversion of the revenge ending could have been brilliant, and poignant.

But there's nothing there, except some shallow banter wasted on Carmilla and dick jokes and some flat voice acting. There is no inner turmoil. Hector just likes Lenore for no proper reason, which, if we pretend the writing was not a rushed mess, implies that he forgave her off screen and now everything is all peachy between them. As if what Lenore did was that easy to forgive. And if it was that easy, regardless of whether it was forgivable or not, then why should I be impressed?

It doesn't speak of Hector's supposed good nature. It's not an admirable act of strength. The choice to let go was not pondered, because it was apparently never a choice. We are eventually left with a nothing narrative, one that doesn't address the events of the previous season except in the form of a joke, one that doesn't allow the characters to grow but rather to regress (because remember, Hector's big badass moment of trapping Lenore and cutting his finger is in the context of him wanting to bring back Dracula and letting himself be killed by Isaac), one that doesn't explore the complicated relationship between a kind mistress and her well-treated pet that was deceived into imprisonment, and one that offers no catharsis whatsoever when it comes to the end, where Lenore kills herself out of nowhere and Hector lets her go after at most one second of hesitation (I have my idea on how that scene should have went - oh look, another comparison with BH :P). And we're left with accidental but vile apologism, instead of the nuanced tale about abuse that we could have had. It would have been so easy, even with the time restraints.

And it wasn't even intentional. It's just sloppy writing hailed as something deeper than it actually is.

(I keep reading in the comment people who gush about Hector showing compassion to Lenore, instead of comparing Carmilla lying to her to Lenore lying to him. I get the parallel and I get the superficial sweetness. This story should not have happened after petty rape by deception: remove that, and all the bonding suddenly makes sense. I want to fix it so badly.)

#Youtube #anti netflixvania #i think i should tag these posts as anti l/h #although i don't want it to appear in the tag #i'm sorry but brain keeps braining and i feel the need to vent #again i understand if i am blocked or told that i am repetitive lol #i'm just so fascinated by this type of story and the dissonance between how it was written and the reception makes me explode #i want to see what you guys see! i can't!#btw i could have used su as another example #but i already feel too cringe and i have made my point i think #long post #sorry sorry i keep saying the same things i am aware

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