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#Does she recognize that saying she had it worse/ I could have it worse doesn't help?
sokkastyles · 2 days
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Whenever I see antis saying that Zuko was rude or selfish to confront Katara about her anger towards him, I always have to roll my eyes at the attempt to make a big deal out of a conflict that was already solved in canon, and there's a lot to be said about how Zuko is actually the only one to care enough about Katara's emotional state to recognize that she needs help, and that's something the show literally spells out by having the others just sit there confused (even though they were there when Katara told them about how she felt about Zuko and his betrayal in Ba Sing Se, so it's odd that none of them seem to understand what's going on when it's quite obvious to the viewers.)
But another aspect of this is that Katara's behavior is explicitly a cry for help. A lot of her angry and dramatic reactions towards Zuko are extremely over-the-top, not to characterize Katara as unreasonable, but to show that Katara's bitterness towards Zuko is masking the hurt she felt towards him. In "The Western Air Temple," she spells this out to the gaang, telling them that she felt like he was really confused and hurt, and that she felt sorry for him, but then states that he was just pretending to be a real human being. Of course, Katara does not really believe that Zuko is not a real person with feelings, and her confrontation with him later in the episode reveals that her anger at him actually stems from knowing that he's actually all too human. Because she knows now that he's capable of making mistakes, even when his intentions are good.
The fact that Katara chooses to confront Zuko alone at the end of this episode also makes Zuko confronting her at the beginning of "The Southern Raiders" a circular part of their arc. What's that about yin and yang always circling each other?
But what's more, is that Katara continues to have these exaggerated reactions to Zuko, often going out of her way to needle him. This is not the behavior of someone who wants nothing to do with another person. It could be behavior indicative that Katara wants to hurt Zuko because he hurt her, but then you have situations like her asking to hear his tea joke, which she wouldn't do if all she wanted was for him to stay away from Aang.
Then, when Zuko saves Katara from falling rocks at the beginning of "The Southern Raiders," her reaction is immediate and accusatory at him landing on top of her. It's a very obviously romantically coded scene, and a large part of the humor is derived from Katara acting like Zuko is doing it on purpose, which of course he is not. There's no way Katara would really think that, right? So why does she accuse him of it?
I would argue that she did it for the same reason she confronted him alone in "The Western Air Temple," the same reason she makes exaggerated statements about his lack of humanity, the same reason she is constantly needling him.
Katara wants Zuko's attention. She wants him to know how she feels, all the anger, hurt, and betrayal, and thus, all the things she did feel under Ba Sing Se, when she thought it was possible that he was someone she had connected with. And she wants to know if he feels the same way, and is angry if he doesn't, or angry if he does, because that makes the betrayal even worse.
So when Katara makes another needling comment towards Zuko before stalking off, while everyone but Zuko continues to sit and puzzle over what could possibly be wrong, I'm pretty sure that some part of Katara wanted Zuko to follow her, to ask her what was wrong, to care.
The fact that she forgives him at the end of the episode is confirmation of this. Zuko is not admonished by the narrative or told that he should mind his own business, or forced to learn a lesson about how it was selfish of him to ask for forgiveness. The focus is on Zuko trying to figure out what Katara needs, recognizing that she needs something from him, and even being able to admit that he doesn't specifically know how to give it to her but letting her figure it out for herself.
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selvepnea · 5 months
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Feeling. Weird...
#Sel talks#How to know when you're striking the right balance? How much trust you should you give to other people to know what that balance should be?#Especially if you can't recognize it yourself?#At what point am I sacrificing too much of my happiness for my safety or comfort?#He can try as much as he wants but it will still hurt me in the end#How full of himself can he be to say he doesn't know why we're pushing him away; recognize that there's something queer going on#And he's still talking about girls having dicks#Did it hurt when I told her I was holding on to the relationship for her sake? Because she seems to think it's a good idea?#Does she recognize that saying she had it worse/ I could have it worse doesn't help?#Why is she trying so hard to keep us as a family? I never asked that of her. She knows why we're distancing from our dad. Why?#Because she had it worse but is still in contact with her own dad? Why does she think that translates at all?#I have moral dilemma of taking money from my dad when 1) I don't like him and would rather not return the favor 2) our previous spat made i#Seem like he thought I was staying for the money 3) he keeps offering to pay for things#I want to say I can't recognize anything around me; but I know a part of that is sleapee and the other is not having the energy to go out#And be around people#But it's all too much; knowing people would rather me dead than to live happily; feeling like I'm powerless to stop the suffering of others#And I know a part of that is not being able to find people like me; lacking a community or otherwise friend group#Just. Feeling lost in my day to day. Not being able to really connect with anyone. And the one person I pay to drag that stuff out of me ma#not be the person I need#Feeling. Alone; disconnected; powerless; adrift; complacent; unable to grow; ect#Maybe I should get out tomorrow
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How would someone like Miko, Ei, and other high ranking officers react to an S/O with a long list of titles like Settra the Imperishable, King of Kings,-
(Genshin Impact) Yae, Ei, Sara, Kokomi, Furina, Jean, and Xianyun's S/O with an absurdly long list of titles
I've been building and painting a lot of Bretonnians lately, so dear readers, you will now become aggressively French.
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By the Archons above, nothing was worse to Yae than having to be so serious during a ceremony,
Of all the things she could be doing, literally anything would be better than having to listen to some stuffy noble read their title.
So it was by chance S/O had to be present. She recognized their title was of Fontaine descent.
'The Red Hand of Brionne', 'The Red Duke', Something something Red.
...Wait, their titles were still being read off?!
(Yae) "My goodness, just how many titles with the color red can one have?"
Yae internally sighed as the list kept going. And going. And going.
All the while S/O stood perfectly still and respectful, not even batting an eye at the list of titles that probably would stretch from the top of the shrine all the way to the bottom.
Yae's head looks up to the sky momentarily, wondering how of all the people in the world she could have as a lover, it was the one who had to bore her to tears.
No doubt there were interesting stories of how the titles came to be, but this is not the way she wanted to find out.
And here Yae thought Ei had a lot of names to go by...
(Yae) "...Why is it still going?!"
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Ei doesn't react too much at the titles being read off for S/O's form of address at first.
She had to deal with similar situations of people reading off her own titles, so it was only proper etiquette.
"Water-Knight," "The Holder of Secrets", "Keeper of the Way"
(Ei) "...Hm."
It was only now she noticed that the list actually exceeded her own titles.
Which surprised her more than anything.
As far as she knew, S/O was just a mortal. How many feats did they achieve in Fontaine during their short life?
She made a note to ask later, but now the list was starting to become a bit absurd.
...Maybe she should implement a law where only the most notable of titles are read off, because they would actually be here for eternity if this continued.
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Sara gets jealous fast.
Not because S/O has more titles than her, she couldn't care less about that.
What really irked her, was they had the gall to own more titles than Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho!
Sara masks her annoyance well as she keeps reading off the list.
Line after line, name after name.
...Okay, who the hell even gave her this list, this was way too many!
(Sara) Leader of battles...? What kind of title even is that?!
She made that comment in her head as she droned on with the names.
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With every single title read off, Kokomi's energy drained.
She loved her S/O dearly, but by the Archons, how the heck did they get that many titles while living in Fontaine?!
(Gorou) "Lionheart, The Lionhearted, High Paladin of the Breton Court-!"
As far as she was aware, there wasn't even any Knight Houses like this in Fontaine!
...Then again, this was Fontaine she was talking about. They did have their theatres.
Kokomi doesn't mention anything about their stupidly long list of names until after the formal ceremony.
She drops her head onto their shoulders, sighing loudly.
(Kokomi) "S/O...why did we need to have all your names read out...?"
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The AUDACITY S/O had!
To have more titles than HER, FURINA?!
This transgression would never be forgotten!
...But they were some pretty cool names, she did have to admit.
'The Golden Paladin',' 'Lord of the Lance', 'Roi Breton'
(Furina) "Hmph, and where exactly did you acquire such names, S/O? More importantly, how does it nearly rival my own?! Hmph! Perhaps I should read all of mine so that we are on equal footing!"
Honestly, some of those were starting to sound like stage names, which wasn't fair at all!
If they could do that, then so could she!
Needless to say, the ceremony the two were attending dragged on for way too long.
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By Barbatos, those were some extra titles.
'The Green Knight', 'Knight of the Glade', 'Heart of the Lion'
Though, she only had a few titles under her own belt, the sheer number S/O had was honestly staggering.
But it was also admirable.
It made her want to keep up, and wondered if she could ever live up to Vanessa, and apparently S/O.
Because at this point she was wandering in her mind, the list was still going, and probably outnumbered Vanessa herself.
(Jean) Well...I suppose we did say we were to refer to all forms of address...Maybe we should revise that.
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Xianyun was no stranger to titles.
She did indeed go by many, but S/O seemed to go by even more.
Which both impressed, and honestly annoyed Xianyun.
How did a mortal go by more names than Rex Lapis?!
'The Sacremor', 'The Soul-Killer', 'Duke of Couronne'-
(Xianyun) "One has to wonder why you must have all your names read aloud? We could be doing something much better right now..."
Granted, she did recognize a few of these titles, but that was no reason for dinner to get cold now!
Xinayun pouts, adjusting her glasses as she tries to get comfortable as the reading continued.
One found this situation inane...
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Rockstar Life
It might have all been forgiven, if Eddie had called. If Eddie had called and begged forgiveness immediately.
Steve could believe- would be willing to look past one drunken mistake.
But Eddie doesn't call.
Eddie doesn't call. Not in the morning after. Or the following day. Or the next.
Steve doesn't reach out either, because how can be he expected to? Paparazzi caught Eddie shoving a mysterious man against the wall in a dark alley, captured their heated kisses and how they barely separated for long enough to get into the back of an uber, and Steve knows as soon as he sees the pictures that he won't be reaching out.
He's not the one that's done anything wrong.
It takes three days for Steve to hear from Eddie. It's a shock, a genuine surprise, because it's face to face. Steve hears the front door close, and he thinks it's Robin, come to check on him again so he doesn't even turn around from where he's making a quesadilla directly on the stovetop.
He does freeze completely when it's not Robin's voice he hears.
"Steve, I am so sorry. So fucking sorry. I can't even begin to explain how sorry."
Three days ago, Steve might have forgiven him.
Today, he's not feeling so generous. He turns the burner off and scoots the half-cooked quesadilla to the cooler side of the stovetop before turning around.
Eddie looks wrecked. Dark bags under his eyes, made even darker by his paler than normal skin, hair a type of messy Steve hasn't seen since the spring break Eddie was in hiding and unable to take a proper shower. He looks heartbroken, distraught and upset. All things Steve felt up until this exact moment. Now that he's face to face with the love of his life, he feels nothing.
"Am I moving out, or are you?"
The noise Eddie makes is heart wrenching. Steve's not so numb and hateful to not recognize that. "Babe, please-"
"Do not call me that," Steve interrupts, "not when you were probably whispering that to someone else just days ago."
"Ba-Steve. Steve, please. I swear it was a mistake. It- I was way too drunk and high to be thinking clearly-"
"I don't want your excuses, Eddie. I want to know if I'm packing my things, or if you are."
"Steve, can't we talk about this?"
That makes Steve's blood boil. "Talk about it? Talk about it? Now you want to talk about it? You should have wanted to talk about it the second you slunk from that guy's bed. Or did you have to kick him from yours? Or, worse, has it taken three goddman days to hear from you because you were still in bed!?"
"No!" Eddie cries, "no, it didn't- it was just-"
"Stop!" Steve shouts, "I don't want to hear any details! I don't care if that uber only made it a block before you came to your senses and bailed. That doesn't- those pictures- you pinned him to the wall, Eddie!"
Eddie is silent, shrinking in on himself in a way Steve's never seen. Steve pushes down the urge to comfort him.
Steve is the one in need of comfort. He's the hurt party here.
"If I were sober, it never would have happened," is all the reply Eddie finally gives. It's not good enough.
"I can't trust that!" Steve turns away, pressing his hands against his eyes hard enough to see light that isn't there. "How am I supposed to believe you? You didn't even- you didn't even call. It was like- like you didn't even know that I knew. But you must have found out. That's why you're here." Steve drops his hand and turns around. "Who told you I knew?"
Eddie swallows. "Max."
Steve nods because of course it was Max. She was the one who handed him the tabloid with the picture in it, three days ago. "So, if you didn't know I knew, you would have, what, never told me?"
"NO, no, I just- I didn't know what to say. How to say it. But then Max called yesterday and-" Eddie says Max's name with too much bite, like it's a curse. Like Max tattled on Eddie instead of exposed his betrayal.
"Shut. Up," Steve growls, "you don't get to be mad at Max for your fucking mistake! I've know you're a goddamn cheater for three days, and it's not until Max let you know that I knew, that you decided to fix it? Well, it can't be fixed, Eddie!"
"Steve, please," Eddie is crying, and Steve's seen him cry a handful of times before but this one hurts deepest. Steve's the reason for the tears, and because you don't just stop loving someone overnight, that hurts.
"No. No! I can't trust you! How many other times has this happened?-"
"Never, never I swear-"
"- Would you have ever said anything if you hadn't been fucking caught on camera?!"
"Yes, of course I would have!"
"How am I ever going to believe that?" Steve cries, "I had to learn that the love of my life cheated on me at the same time the rest of the goddamn world did! Jesus Christ, Eddie, when you said you wanted that rockstar life, I thought you meant like, big fancy house, grammy's and an invite to the met gala. Not goddamn sex, drugs and rock n' roll!"
For the first time since Steve's known him, Eddie Munson stands before him with nothing to say.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @skepsiss @afewproblems
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What is Angel Dusts relationship with the other V’s? What do they think of him and vice versa?
tw // mentions of abuse
They are no friends, that's for sure.
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With Velvette, things are definitely better. They spent some time together when she designed costumes for his shows, or when he walked her runways as a guest star. Of course, he dislikes her because she is best friends with his abuser and enables Valentino's behavior as much as Vox does. Yet, in his life before the hotel, anyone who wasn't intentionally cruel to him was considered a friendly face. He appreciates Velvette's Girlboss attitude and when things between him and Val were better and Velvette wasn't blaming Angel for Val's mood swings, they could have an enjoyable gossip sessions. Especially when he was high and it was easy to forget that she literally sells roofies people use against him.
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I believe Velvette never fully regarded Angel as a human, always seeing him as Valentino's toy. She finds abusing him unnecessary. This isn't to say she's above abuse; for her, there's just no satisfaction in hurting someone who is already broken—it's a waste of time. Moreover, she has no reason to do so because, to her Angel is not threatening. She sometimes enjoy spending time with him because she recognizes that he's funny, charming and chaotic while also having great taste. Simultaneously she despises him for his "weakness" and thinks he's foolish for falling for Valentino, believing he deserves his miserable life. Yet, she somewhat wishes Valentino would let him go, as Angel is a constant source of tension for him and that affects all the Vees. For her, Angel isn't worth the fuss.
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Angel is absolutely terrified of Vox. When he realized that Vox and Valentino were together, he understood that as soon as Valentino would stop caring enough to keep him alive, Vox—the jealous sadist—will end his life in the most painful way possible. He is well aware that Vox enjoys every second of his abuse, evidenced by the cameras in Angel's dressing room, and that he rewards Valentino for it. Despite no longer loving Valentino, Angel remembers how it felt to love him, and it pains him to see that Valentino can be good to someone else but chose not to be good to him; he mourns the relationship they could have had if only he hadn't signed the contract and had tried to be Valentino's partner instead. Not that he wishes to have any relationship with Val anymore, it's just his big "what if".
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Vox despises Angel solely for the amount of attention he receives from Valentino. Nothing else matters to him; he doesn't even acknowledge any of Angel's traits that he could dislike. Angel is simply an object diverting Valentino's attention away from Vox and, therefore, must be eliminated. Vox doesn't exert much effort in actively creating opportunities to harass Angel (since he can't do what he truly wants to him anyway), but if an opportunity arises, he will seize it to make Angel's life significantly worse, always with a polite smile.
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toxicanonymity · 8 months
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when raider met sweet pea
1k words  | analysis of raider!Joel x f!reader
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Raider Joel Master List 
This is a peek inside early, unevolved raider joel in the original fic from March. We know how much he’s grown since then, but he’s done terrible, inexcusable things, and he knows it.  NOTES: You're referred to as sweet pea in this, Joel's pet name for you. General HC followed by Q&A. Thank you @milla-frenchy for always having good Qs. I have great Qs from others too that I'll get to as I can (looking at u @javier-penas-wifexx420, and others). To raider's pr team, sorry for going back in time but FIWB. WARNINGS: References to noncon, assault.
Here’s how I HC what happened under the surface:  When Joel interrupted the men from taking sweet pea, it wasn't a noble rescue mission. Mainly, he was fed up with the men and wanted to put them in their place. But then, one of the men used the butt of his rifle under her chin to make her look up, and this is what unlocked or triggered something in Joel:  She looked at Joel thinking he was saving her, and something in her face had a subconscious effect on him -- like he saw her hope and appreciation, and saw someone looking at him like he was a good man who mattered to them. It made him feel needed, which he hadn’t felt for so long that he didn’t even recognize the feeling, or know how to feel it, much less what to do with it.
That moment created the tiniest crack, a minuscule window into the man buried under the persona built by trauma and the apocalypse. The crack was too tiny to change his behavior yet, but that tiny window allowed him to see a glimmer of something else possible and allowed him to subconsciously connect with her in a way he hadn't connected in ages.  From his raider persona, everyone is pretty 2D, so consciously, he's not seeing or treating her (or anyone) as a real person at this point. But that moment still resulted in a “spark,” like a magnetism, and the crack in his shell grows over time. 
When he takes her inside: it was likely unusual that he took her somewhere private. Normally, he does things in front of the other men to show dominance (see Stash House).  Subconsciously, that tiny part of him wanted to feel like a protector, and taking her somewhere private may have been his pathetic idea of a protective gesture, physically picking her up and taking her away from the worse (more violent) guys.
He takes her to the room intending for her to suck his dick by default, but I don't think P in V was always his intent:  He doesn't threaten or mention fucking her upfront when he’s telling her what’s going to happen.  He tells her she's gonna suck his dick and to be a good girl and it'll be over quick. While she sucks him, he decides he has to have her (be inside her).  He says "alright sweet pea, now pull down your pants for me." He was acting on his primitive urges and what his body wanted in that moment for whatever reason -- he's a raider and has a huge sense of entitlement. Even though his escalation wasn’t out of malice, the effect is that he made the attack worse. He’s a bad person and a r*pist, and he knows it.
(Note, I’m only censoring this word because other people censor it and I sense some people find it jolting to see even if they read noncon. I'm not censoring it to try to make him look better. His past is a part of him, there's no getting around the fact that he's a r*pist. He's the last person who would want it forgiven or excused. He kinda hates himself ). 
Q: I've been wondering if he could have done to other women what he did to sweet pea in the 1st chapter
He did at least make other women suck his dick in the past. As for how he sees his past behavior now, it'll come out eventually, not like an OOC monologue, like a word in passing or implied here or there.
Q: I think you wrote somewhere that Joel didn't approve of the behavior of some of his men with women, and that Carter wasn't like that (was I dreaming?)  
The men who had sweet pea at the beginning of ch 1 are more physically aggressive and violent with women, physically forcing them and hurting them, whereas Joel calmly told sweet pea what to do (while he was heavily armed) and didn’t physically hurt her. The other men will smack them around and gang rape them. Joel feels like that behavior from men is weak, like if you're going to physically hurt someone, pick on someone your own size. He doesn’t feel moral superiority for this (I mean he doesn't see himself as a good guy), but he sees himself as stronger and more dominant than men who need to hurt a weaker person.
Q: Why is he so possessive and jealous, since day 1? In failed rescue : "He describes you. Joel’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken.  He waits a beat before answering." I love that 😏 but it's super fast. Did she trigger something in him from day one?
When he initially decided she's his so quickly, most importantly, he means she's not anyone else's. He's in charge, he's claimed her, he's dominant, and he's the boss. That was his original intent and he didn't expect it to go further than that.  But it goes beyond that because of the moment explained above. So it's also his primitive instinct that she's his, and that’s what you see when her bf describes her in your quote. Whatever connection or feeling was created by the way she looked at Joel made her special, and he couldn't let go of it. So she became like a precious possession at that point. Since then, he’s slowly evolved to where she’s not just a possession, but certainly still his. 
Thank you so much for reading. I really adore everyone's interest and investment in raider!Joel. If you love raider joel, please interact with his fics -- it's always better late than never. Comments mean a lot no matter how small, and reblogs mean a lot regardless of blog size. I know most of raider's fans started as lurkers, and I don't judge for your lurking era. Most of my tumblr bffs started as lurkers.
Ik the tense is all over the place in this sorry lol
TY ILY 🖤🖤🖤
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doufudanshi · 1 year
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for anyone who criticizes jyl for bringing soup to yiling instead of like, money—
we should first ask: could jyl actually have given wwx money? she must have something, you say. the jins are rich! she could even give him some of her betrothal gifts.
but realistically jyl probably didn't have much money at all! let's think this through. not only did she not marry jzx yet at the time of her yiling visit, but (based on many, many imperial palace tv shows lol) all her worth would be in betrothal gifts of jewelry, fine clothing, or other misc items, which is 1) heavy and difficult to transport without notice, but that doesn't actually matter bc it's ultimately 2) disrespectful to sell and worse to have the gifter find out when they come by for tea and you begin chatting about the event in two days and they say oh where's that one-of-a-kind jade bracelet I gave you wouldn't it match the also one-of-a-kind silk garment that lady jin gave you sooo well oh you will look so lovely in it won't you wear it.
or worse, have it recognized in some random pawn shop on the street by someone who has never really liked you and WILL get you in deep shit for it.
does jyl have any money from the jiang side? well, jc has been busy at work rebuilding lotus pier and the clan since before wwx's defection, and even if he's not borrowing a shitton of money from the jins (which he almost certainly is), he definitely has the opposite of surplus funds. he's also busy organizing and buying gifts for the wedding too, making him go more in the red because you know the jins aren't going to want cheap-ass things even if you don't have money.
let's say jyl did get a significant bride price (aka given money money)—not only does that go to her family (jc), but it is given during the ceremony (which, again, hasn't happened yet). and, realistically, jc probably will have to use it to offset the costs of the above.
beyond that, let's just take this scene from a storytelling perspective. sometimes it is simply about the emotional resonance. the vibes. let's say jyl did have some funds to give wwx. but imagine if jyl was like here a-xian take all this money 😐 ok sure useful for some period. but is that the gift that wwx would want during the first time he's gotten to see her in months, and likely the last time he will see her in a long, long time (possibly years)? would that be impactful for the story?
meanwhile, the soup she brings represents her love. we hear in the extra, from wwx's own words, the care she put into selecting the ingredients, making sure the lotus root is fresh and perfectly ripe. it also takes hours for her to even make iirc. wwx derives so much comfort from it—that's why it comes up again and again. it is one of his first memories of feeling safe in lotus pier, of home. it provides wwx some semblance of normalcy. he hasn't had any this entire time, and is likely something he aches for whenever he's homesick or sad or questioning his choices. it is simply, given the circumstances, incredibly thoughtful. (and how meaningful was it to see wn treat it with such respect? seeing that is literally the moment in the chapter when wwx realizes—ah. the wens are people I cherish as well.)
and regarding jyl coming in her wedding dress—it is not for herself. it is for wwx. we saw how devastated wwx was just to even hear that jyl was getting married because he had to hear it from someone who wasn't jc or jyl. and to immediately then realize he cannot go? even more heartbreaking. and jyl, who clearly knows wwx extremely well, would know, without having to ask, how upset wwx would be to miss such a huge occasion in their lives that was previously a given. this is what she can do to offset that, even just a little. because jyl came in her dress, wwx gets to experience a piece of her wedding even though he cannot physically be there. not to be a 2000s mastercard ad, but there really are some things that money can't buy.
idk there's also some fist-shaking at the class discrepancy in the scene. and I get it. it sucks! her dress is certainly lavish, and the wens are farming on a corpse mountain and have only just started making a bit of money. yes, it's fine to think that if you were in the character's shoes, maybe you would've found it to be in poor taste—but the story isn't about you. it is about these characters, and what this scene means to them. and I'm of the camp that if there is no indication that wwx is upset by any of this, and in fact moved by it, there really isn't reason for the reader to be righteously indignant about these things on a character's behalf. that's just not the focus or the point of the scene.
plus, jyl is sharp. she is likely more aware of the discrepancy than most people think. she has also been shown in the text to not just be another sheltered, spoiled noble (re jzx soup incident). but if what you want is guilt from jyl—I personally think that guilt is performative, and accomplishes nothing. her guilt would've only made wwx unhappy. instead, here is an action that is meaningful and brings joy to wwx. to share her joy with him is not selfishness, nor is it some lack of awareness of their situation. if in this moment, she shows off her dress, if she revels in her joy, her happiness, it is for wwx, and wwx is incredibly moved by it.
and let's face it—wwx, of all people, would want to see jyl in a wedding dress that cost more than rebuilding lotus pier from the ground up. he wouldn't want anything less.
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lieutenantism · 2 months
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i'm currently thinking about how jean loses himself completely to harry. just dissolves entirely. very little sense of identity left outside his partnership with him, which i find so intriguing. i mean, it's the definition of codependency, but that doesn't make it any less interesting (long post, again).
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"i won't let my life unravel because of this." is just so insane and melodramatic to me because WHO is that man to you, jean? and why is his alcoholism the reason for your life unraveling? jean takes on harry's drinking problem as a problem of his own, a threat to his life before harry's, even though the drinking doesn't affect harry's ability to do his job, and jean acknowledges that as well as everyone else in the major crimes unit.
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but why does he have such a big problem with harry's alcoholism? why's he the only one out of the task force who seems to care obsessively? because the one before him failed to save him, and he feels as though it's his responsibility now. to jean, harry's life is divided to three parts; before him, during him, and tragically, after him.
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the fact jean puts himself in the same position as dora, harry's ex, tells you enough. almost as if he considers them to be the same, in terms of responsibility for harry's wellbeing. he's cleaning up her mess, he seems to think. she was way before my time, as though they hold the same significance to harry. of course, this isn't entirely jean's fault. both him and harry share the guilt of their twisted relationship; harry's guilty of getting too personal with anybody within arm's reach.
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and jean's guilty for wanting to clean up a mess that he didn't make, and losing sight of himself and his true professional duties in the process. so it goes like this; they partner up, harry's bad at drawing the line between personal and professional relationships and jean's even worse, harry goes on benders every week and jean witnesses them and tries to pull him out of them relentlessly, which then leads to whatever fucked up partnership they had, right before martinaise. the question is why did jean feel the need to save him? because he projected onto him severely.
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they're both broken men; mirrors of each other, though jean will never say it out loud. he sees himself in harry, and since he can't save himself and everyone's given up on him, even the professionals, he decides not to give up on harry. in a way, jean's trying to prove to himself that he's not a lost cause through sticking by harry's side through it all, because if even the most lost of causes manages to have at least one person who's there for them at all times, who says he can't have one too? why must he be labelled as the anomaly? if harry du bois could be saved, so can he. he maintains this "i have my shit together, i'm better than you." persona during the entire confrontation, when he isn't. like i said, harry is everything jean works hard in order not to become, yet he still manages to lose his sense of identity while "saving" him and only becomes "harry's partner". that's all he is. nothing but a safety net, there to catch him at all times.
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that's why he becomes extremely defensive when you choose the "kim's cooler than you." option, because you're practically robbing him of his identity. throughout the entirety of the game, he keeps repeating: "i'm your partner", to reassure himself more so than anything else, and what the game does here is very clever. you first hear him say that on a call, so distant and away from you; he cannot convince you that he's your partner even if he tried. then, he says it when he's in an idiotic disguise that you didn't recognize, and quite frankly it's making you uncomfortable, it's hard to take him seriously when he looks so stupid so you don't believe him, again. then at last, when he confronts you, and he's himself. then you think it sticks.
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but it doesn't, and you dismiss him again to ask about the others. i've always found it perplexing how there's no "how can you be my partner?" option during the confrontation. you can ask about mikael heidelstam for fuck's sake, but not your partner. simply because you don't believe he is, at least not anymore. he's just a very angry man who was in a stupid disguise, and that's all you can ask him about. isn't that so insanely tragic? when you think about how dismissive the "confrontation" is? and jean's lashing out that way because his whole identity is hanging in the balance? no matter what jean tells harry, there's no click, no lightbulb flickering moment, nothing. jean tries everything, it's painful to see, really. the "i didn't lie to you. no one lies to you." and his lines to judit and trant where he's like "i told you, it's typical harry behavior. it's our shitkid." and so on are all attempts to prove that he, jean, knows him, harry, better than anyone else, even himself. he KNOWS him, which is why harry has to need him. he has to keep him. as his partner or whatever the hell it was, because nobody else knows him or will ever get to know him that way.
jean's response to harry telling them "i don't wanna be in your unit." only further proves it. "i'm your partner, i answer for you when you're not there." considering the fact harry and jean had begun to blur ever since their partnership came into being makes the line funnier lol. jean had locked himself up in a prison of his own making, of course with harry giving him all the means necessary to build his own cage beforehand. it was a matter of time and conditioning, and severe loneliness. every crime of harry's feels like one jean is guilty of.
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zoroslost · 4 months
Text
Pining!Zoro takes up smoking while away on Gloom island because he misses Sanji and the smoke smells like him.
Zoro recognizes the signs of missing his crew as soon as they're separated. And he feels the pull to be together with his Nakama again as soon as he sees Luffy's declaration in the paper but he doesn't realize that he's feeling the cook's absence differently until he finds Mihawk smoking one day about 3 months into his stay on Gloom Island.
He's not oblivious to the effect the cook has on him. Zoro's known that his feelings for the cook were different from his feelings toward the rest of his nakama since the beginning. He'd recognized that the feelings he had toward the airheaded blonde were romantic since Thriller Bark, when he couldn't stand the thought of the other being gone. He was, however, shocked to realize just how much influence Sanji's presence had on him.
The instant he registered the heavy scent of the cigarette, he felt his body and mind relax as a feeling of warmth washed over him. It smelled like home. He wanted to be surrounded by it. Zoro sank down against the wall and started cleaning his swords to remain in the feeling for just a bit longer.
When Zoro prepared to sleep that night, he was surprised to find the scent had woven itself into his clothes. Not wanting to separate from the smell, he pulled his robe over himself when he laid down. Blanked in the smell, he could almost feel the rocking of the hammocks as he drifted off to the most restful sleep he'd had since he was last on the Sunny.
He feels lighter and more focused when training for the next few weeks, but he can feel that fading away as the heady scent fades from his robe, leaving a hollow chasm in his chest. He thought he'd been doing a decent job of keeping his emotions internal but he's proven wrong when Perona snaps at him while they're all eating silently, "What the hell crawled up your ass and died. I'm already stuck here with you two depressing guys don't make it any worse than it needs to be."
"I'm not doing anything," Zoro growls back at her.
"Yes you are!" she complains, "You're just being all-" she gestures vaguely to the way he's sitting at the table. He raises an eyebrow at her."
"You're morose," Mihawk clarifies unhelpfully.
"Exactly!" she points at him in accusation, "You're sulking! You've been more bearable recently what happened?"
"I'm just tired of being stuck with your annoying ass," he snipes back.
"I'm a fucking joy," the ghost girl shouts at him, before settling down as she ponders. "Anyway, that's not it. Your mood changed abruptly about 2 weeks ago and you've been tolerable. What happened 2 weeks ago..."
"If I remember correctly," Mihawk interjects boredly, "the only thing unusual that happened was that I was smoking." Zoro stiffens, waiting for the girl to put the pieces together.
"You smoke?" she asks with visible confusion. Zoro rolls his eyes. She chews the information over in her mind and can see the exact moment she figures it out, a grin overtaking her face. "You don't have a nicotine addiction, you just like someone that does."
"Shut up," he growls in warning.
Her grin stretches wider, "Oh-ho I was right. There was a smoker on your crew right?"
"Shut up," he repeats, louder this time.
"It's that blonde guy isn't it, the one with the weird eyebrow?"
"Fuck off!" he slams his fist down on the table hard as he stands.
"Hororororo~"
"If it keeps you focused, you can just have some," Mihawk says dryly as he slides a pack of cigarettes and a lighter toward him on the table.
He snatches them up and storms off, ignoring the obnoxious laughter coming through the door behind him.
The cigarettes sit forgotten in Zoro's room for a while before he remembers that he has them.
He doesn’t really like smoking but he takes to carrying around a pack of cigarettes just to light one just to let the scent hang in the air. After a while, he starts taking one or two inhales of the cigarette just to imagine what Sanji tastes like. He hates how pathetic it makes him feel.
He’s not addicted but it becomes a comfort mechanism and he knows he won’t be able to stop the habit once the crew is back together. He also would rather die than admit the reason he started so he has no choice but to keep it secret. Sanji's constant smoking keeps him from engaging in the bad habit for the most part but on the nights he’s alone on watch and feeling lonely, he takes to lighting one and taking a few breaths to
He never intends for anyone to find out but after the cook leaves for Whole Cake, the habit starts up again in full force to the point that everyone notices. No one says anything but he can tell by the way they look at him that they know why the habit started.
Sanji doesn't find out until the celebration of the defeat of Kaido. He must've run out of cigarettes at some point because he complains to the other straw hats that he wishes that he had a damn cigarette.
"Why don't you just ask Zoro for one?" Ussop pipes up and Zoro goes still, silently cursing the other in his head for ignoring the fact that they haven't been bringing it up for a reason damn it.
Sanji's eyes flick to Zoro before settling on Ussop, eyebrow raised in confusion, "Why the hell would the shitty swordsman have any cigarettes? He doesn't smoke."
Ussop must feel the murderous vibes that Zoro is sending his way because he starts sweating nervously and quickly starts to run away, "Whoops, I hear someone calling for me, bye." They both stare after him in silence as he dashes toward the Sunny.
'Fucking idiot aren't you supposed to be a master liar or whatever, cover your ass better than that,' Zoro thinks bitterly. He can feel the cook's eyes on him, 'Fuck!'
"What the hell was that about? You take up smoking to fill the void I left in your heart or something Mosshead?" Sanji teased with a smirk on his face, subconsciously reaching into his pocket for a cigarette before remembering that he didn't have any.
Zoro grounded his teeth together, 'If I don't tell him now and he finds out later he'll bitch about this forever.' Tensely, he pulled the half-empty packet out of his pocket and held it out to the cook without looking at him as he grumbled, "'or something."
The cook didn't move for a few beats, just staring at the swordsman. Zoro could feel his face heating up as he kept his eyes firmly downcast, as he waited for the shitty cook to take them, "Are you gonna take 'em or not shit cook."
His rough tone must've broken Sanji out of his stupor because he jumped slightly before reaching out and taking the pack from Zoro's outstretched hand, fingertips barely brushing the other's palm in a way that made Zoro's heart flutter annoyingly. He silently removed one from the pack and fished his lighter out of his pocket, lighting the end and taking a deep breath of nicotine. Zoro let his eye fall shut as he felt his body relax unwillingly with the cook's exhale causing the smell of smoke to settle around them.
They sat in silence for a while, Zoro content to let the other think he was asleep while he listened to the sounds of the cook preparing their food. He was jolted out of his meditative state as a cold bottle was pressed against his cheek. He opened his good eye lazily to look up at the cook who was pressing a nice bottle of booze against his cheek and holding a freshly prepared batch of onigiri.
Sanji's head was turned away but Zoro was transfixed at the slight flush that was climbing up the other's neck. He took the other's offerings gently and Sanji walked back to the kitchen to keep working.
"'s nice to know that I was missed," Sanji said so quietly that Zoro barely heard him over the sounds of the kitchen and the party outside. He didn't say anything more, but Zoro could hear what the cook was really trying to say: 'thanks...'
Zoro smiled to himself, taking a deep drink, "don't let it happen again."
Sanji hummed his agreement.
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hauntedwitch04 · 19 days
Text
Neighbor
Steve Harrington x reader
Words: about 0.8k words
Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded
Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky
Requests are open I Ask
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 13: Caught masturbation
-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-
Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.
You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.
Everything had remained that way until this evening.
Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.
The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.
Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.
Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.
The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.
You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.
Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.
Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.
She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.
Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.
The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.
TAGLIST
@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626
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bulletswithribbons · 4 days
Text
"Fucking hate journalists"
Kai Anderson X Fem!reader // NSFW
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Warnings: Kai Anderson. You guess it. Very little plot, degrading, non-con/dob-con, mentions of murder, implied masochism, rough oral sex (m receiving), gun play, slut shaming, hair pulling, let me know if I missed any.
Summary: Kai breaks in your house to teach you your place after non-stop asking him back handed questions during the interview. Events eventually take a twisted turn, you were never that much of a good girl anyways.
Word count: 2.5k
a/n: This is my first ever fic, I've read plenty and wrote smut before so I'm pretty confident. But first time publishing so here we go.
Interviewing Kai right after his campaign was not the best call at all, especially the way you kept pressing him. You knew you shouldn’t have but this is war whether he knew it or not. You took a vow on yourself to make him expose himself on his own. You’ve always been suspicious about him but you had no proof of your accusations, and calling someone out based on your gut is not really professional, especially as a journalist. 
Even though someone had to confront him about his mistakes and fear mongering, your questions only made things worse, for you at least. You pushed too hard, making him feel small in front of the media. He could sense your suspicion with every question, and it's clear you put a big dent in his ego.
You were sitting on your desk, ticking your pen as a form of anti-stress. A bit of a mess actually, papers scattered, pens strewn about. Newspapers and magazines pile up, post-it notes plastered everywhere and a coffee cup long forgotten. Your desk lamp sits on the edge, casting a soft, warm glow in the room. You've always preferred gentle lights especially when working, it helps you think.
Your thoughts spiral around making your headache worse than it already is. How could you possibly put him down, once and for all..?
A bone-chilling breeze whispers over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You enjoy it while it lasts, a refreshing breeze in this stifling hot night. It must have come from the window behind you, although you don't remember leaving it open... It doesn't matter. Nothing does as long as you still have work to do.
Your slender fingers reach for your white blouse, unbuttoning it. Once removed, you toss it aside, letting it fall to the floor, trying to cool your temperature down. You're digging through Kai's files, searching for a gap to use against him. It wasn't your job to do so. But as a journalist of course, you'd investigate and research to report the facts and keep people up with the facts.
Perhaps it's because you take what he says in the media personally. After all, a part of you is a feminist, a part you're not ready to let go of, at least for the sake of all the women who fought for their place in this world. You see through his manipulation tactics because you've seen them before. You know a narcissist when you see one.
"Fuck!" You shout as you throw the papers off your desk.
"Hm, come on now, how dare you throw these papers. We don't want little big mouth to lose her temper." He tsks, with an overly sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.
Shocked, you recognize the voice as you feel something hard poking you in the back of your head, trailing down to your neck, detaching your hair that was hardly holding up in the messy bun. Cold, metal. Sudden realisations hit all at once, but most importantly is the outsider in your house -your room- you pissed off earlier this day holding a gun to your head.
"Mr. Anderson, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" you ask, your voice rising towards the end. You're trying your best to stay calm. One mistake, and you’re dead. Young lady in her 20s corpse’ found shot in her bedroom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“Mr. Anderson?”He repeats after you, chuckling. “They’re always respectful when fearful.” A sinful smirk tugs his lips, a look of pride in his dark cold eyes after hearing his last name coming from your trembling lips. “But I would have to politely decline your offer. I’m here to fix the mess of a situation you’ve just created for yourself. After all, I don’t want to lose voters over something so foolish. Especially this… close to the election.”
"Like hell I—or anyone with a brain that knows right from wrong—would vote for you!" You yell as you stand up from your seat.
His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, showing his annoyance. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts the gun up to your temple, his finger twitching on the trigger. His voice, on the other hand, remains eerily sweet. “I really think you should keep your voice down.”
You swallow, your throat drier than ever. 
His voice lowers to a whisper, "I see you started learning. Good girl, I'm proud of fast learners." He takes a step towards you, his free hand stroking your chin and cheek, his touch alone giving you goosebumps. The gun rests on your temple, his eyes darting around the room.Then his focus shifts back to you. "Get on your knees," he orders and pulls his hand away from your face.
“I’m sorry?” You rush out, your eyes widening.
“Now,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience as he jerks his gun to signal his order. “Expecting company?” He inquires looking down at your —bra only— chest.
You crouch down on your knees, his gun still pointing to your head. “No,” you respond short and clearly. For a minute, you believe you saw him smile slightly. A smile of pride.. 
“You’re such an obedient slut, aren’t you?” He pauses, “You defied me, made a fool of me in front of everyone. That doesn't go unnoticed.” He whispers, his voice pitch getting higher towards the end.
“So you’re going to shoot me? Because I hurt your little pathetic ‘man ego’? Because I’m small and vulnerable while you’re big and strong?” You retort, fake amusement hiding your fear.
“You’re smart. Most girls aren't smart. Well, that was the plan.” His smirk widens, his tone sounding even more sadistic as he slowly traces the gun barrel around your jawline— tracing it slowly with the tip of his gun. You notice him staring at your lips. “But now, seeing how big of a mouth you have, I’m going to show you what whores like you are made for.” He informs, his tone bled dry of emotion.
“The kitchen and carrying useless men’s babies. I Get it, trust.” You lash out. Although you know keeping your mouth shut is probably the better option, especially in this exact situation. But that never really happens, at least not most of the time.
Kai’s grip tightens on the gun as his rage begins to seep through his body. His other hand darts out to your face and before you even notice it, a slap lands with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain rippling through your cheek and leaving you on the floor. It stings, you can feel a red mark in its wake. Leaving you feeling shocked and humiliated.
You were lying down there on the floor, your body stretched out, limbs motionless. There was no sense of ease in your posture nor the room, rather a stillness that borders on tension. Even the air itself felt stifling.
Your eyes widen at the sight of his free hand darting to his zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth. “You see, you just know how things work.” His tone becomes condescending, he pops the button and grip the waistband of his pants pulling it down until it’s enough to pull his dick out. “You have such a delicious looking mouth. I'm sure it has been put to good use for the benefit of passing by men. I'm guessing you've had a lot of fun.” He grabs the elastic of his boxers, lowering them down over his balls and pulling out his half hard cock.
You stare at him, your face frozen in shock. “You’re sick!” you shout.
“Am I now? You're the one who's been around so many men in your life. You should be used to it by now.” He grins, his hand holding his gun and moving it from your cheek to beneath your chin, pulling it up, so you were looking at him. “You should be grateful I'm bothering to even look at you.”
Although the men you’ve been with aren’t that many, you don’t bother to waste your time explaining. He believes what he wants to believe.
“Get back here,” he orders as he starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip. A bead of precum glistening from the tip.
You crawl back to him on all fours, doing as he says, and getting back on your knees, looking up at him. “Are you going to hurt me?” you ask.
He pauses for a moment before tilting his head with a small grin. “Isn’t that what you deserve? Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? You like pain? Is that what you crave, y/n?” 
Fear… Regret.. Along with arousal.. Unwanted arousal specifically. You always knew you had a thing for troubled —twisted— men, but this is beyond fucked-up. Not to forget, he’s your worst enemy. He’s any woman’s worst enemy.  Feeling your pussy weeping in response to his tall figure towering over you is not really something to be proud of. The heat between your thighs only grew bigger every second and you knew you needed to get rid of the feeling.
He stops pumping his cock, his hand darts to your head caressing your hair with —almost— a soft touch.
“Suck,” he orders.
Your eyes widen, your tongue ready to curse at him, “I’m not going t-” 
“I won’t ask again, suck.” His hand darts up to your face squishing your cheeks painfully together. “You run your mouth a lot, might as well put it to good use. I’ll show you what exactly happens to smart mouths. Suck it like the slut you are.” His eyes burn with anger while he’s squeezing tight, his voice dripping with venom. The tip of his heavy warm cock caresses your soft lips, tempting you to bite it off.
He roughly lets go of your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the back to force your mouth open.
He forces the tip past your teeth, hatred spewing from your eyes.
“Wider,” he demands, but you want him to beg. Beg for it on his knees and switch the table, be the one with the gun ordering him around like a house pet. Getting back your dignity sounded good but not enough if you compare it with its consequence, having your life taken away from you.
You ignore his request. Making him reinforce his hold in your hair, pulling at it harder making your jaw drop so he can get deeper to your throat. The salty taste of precum evades your taste buds.
You loved the taste of him, your mouth watering with his cock inside it. But you couldn't admit it, of course you never would. It didn’t take too long for you to wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft.
Your head bobbing up and down. A breathy moan escaped him.
“Do enlighten me,” he breathes out, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his thick cock, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.
Ragged breaths escaped his mouth as you began to inch your way down, taking in more of him. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat. Kai tightens his grip around your hair, and shoves your face down against his cock, making you gag around him, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick, making you gag. His length occupying your whole mouth down to your throat. You were practically choking, but he didn’t really care about it, he’s there for one reason and one reason only, teaching you to know your place.
“Fucking whore. You thought you were so smart with those non stop questions?” He pauses panting as he thrusts harder into your throat, the sound of you gagging and the wet thrusts echoing through the room. “Fucking hate journalists. Tell me… Who got the upper hand now?” 
You can't help but ignore him once again. It's not like you would give him what he wants and come undone beneath him, right? Of course you can’t answer him, after all you’re his number one hater. But even haters would give in when it’s the most mouthwatering cock a man can ever have. 
When you avoided answering, or maybe couldn’t answer since you were basically choking on his cock. His dick alone is enough to murder you if he wanted to. It only made him thrust faster, the asshole didn’t stop mouth fucking you even when he noticed your cheeks turning to a bright red and your eyes watering. Your cries turned him even more on. Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his pubic hair.
Finally, you gave him a wobbly nod, motioning that he has the upper hand.
His head fell back to his shoulders, “That’s good to hear.. You’re learning, you’re such a good girl…Fuck…” 
You smile at the praise. Surprisingly, him being somewhat ‘sweet’ only made him ten times hotter. 
Tears keep running down your red cheeks, your cries echoing through the room.
“Just so you know, I’m enjoying this. Your whimpers are music to my ear.” He groans. “But god dammit don’t whine like a fucking bitch.” He spits at you and it lands on your cheek. Add it to the list of body fluids covering your face, along with the sweat gathering at your forehead and drool drenching your chin. 
You moan around his thick cock, sending him vibrations through his whole body. After all, you’re not putting on an act, you are enjoying it which is something you, yourself, are afraid of. But mostly you were focused on getting oxygen into your lungs. And maybe he is right, as always. Maybe there really is a part of you that enjoys the pain. That burning stinging sensation in the back of your throat. It’s scary because it’s true. 
His thrusts then began to lose their rhythm, but still managed to keep up with his pace. You knew what was coming for you. You shut your eyes, dramatically accepting your fate. Your jaw was already tired from him using you. His shaft was heated up, thrusting in and out of your red swollen lips. His hand gripped on your hair even more tightly holding you in place while his hold on the gun loosened. 
“My cock is a reward, tasting me is a blessing. Fucking thank me for letting you suck me off.” He says between breaths. 
No response, just a wet sticky cough. But afraid of his reaction, you choke out with a full mouth, “thank you.”
You could promise that you felt the disgusted face he did, “what a filthy bitch didn't your parents teach you not to talk with a full mouth?” He says while non-stop grunting like a wounded animal. That's probably what he is anyways... A wounded animal.
Few seconds later, ropes of cum spurt out from his dick into my throat, milking it after the abuse it went through when he was hammering into my mouth. He pulls out from your mouth and tug his dick back into his boxers then his pull his pants back up.
“Swallow,” he orders. “Fucking swallow my cum.” Kai grabs your face and presses his fingers into your cheek flesh.
Desperately, all you wanted to do was spit it at him, right in his face, but you don’t. You actually swallow like the obedient little slut he said you are. His seed slides down your throat, alongside your dignity and maybe your hatred towards him. 
Your fingers reach to your face drying up the tears that ran down your cheeks and the saliva running down your chin along with lines of cum. Looking up to him, you see him breathing heavily. His body working hard to get the oxygen he needs from how hard you sucked him off.
He looks at you up and down, judging you, it can't be anything good.
You expected him to do something, whether beat you up, shoot you, the least of it is spit at you telling you how much of a filthy whore you are.
But he didn't, and you were grateful for that... For him..
The taste of him still lingers at the tip of your tongue. You lick your lips unintentionally and in the most discrete way possible. Last thing you want is having him know you liked it and boost his ego, not that it could possibly needed any more promotions. But he already knows, you're sure of it. The way you sucked the life out of him like it was the best thing you laid your lips on, you can't hide that from anyone.
He turns and walks to the door, completely silent. What could he be possibly thinking about...?
He pauses at the door, turning his head to see you, he’s sweaty.
“If I see you run your mouth about any of my work, newt time will be much worse.” He promises, which you thought was kind of cute.. Promises… 
Zipping up his fly, and slipping his gun in his pants, he finally turns away and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
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vitanithepure · 9 months
Text
Can we talk about Gale again? And Mystra, one last time? Or at least let me vent? I know it seems like I can't shut up about it, but deal with me this one last time?
It's a long one, an fervent one, and possibly the last one on their relationship because there isn't much to tell for me after this. I just want to lay it to rest on my part, it's too emotionally draining, but I wanted to do this.
Spoilers for them ahead.
It was some time ago I did the talk with Mystra and Gale as an origin character and I needed some time to process this and gather my thoughts. Because I was left reeling with how personal it felt for me and I hated seeing that to bo honest, even though I think whoever did write this scene did it... very well. I feel a lot of thought went into it, so even though it does touch a delicate subject it does it as tastefully as possible.
Okay, let's begin with a real banger.
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Why? This will forever read as "I gave you a solution, explain yourself why you didn't die when I asked you to." for me. What kind of messed up question is that to ask someone?
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But can I say how there is absolutely no wrong anwser to that asinine question? You can roleplay however you wish, but none of them are bad anwsers. Some of them are more heartbreaking then the others, but none are in any way making excuses. There is nothing to excuse and I'm glad whoever wrote this dialogue recognized this.
I chose the "I have someone else to live for" one here, because I felt that Gale, at this point, really found that special someone, be it a friend or lover, to live for. It's gut-wrenching that he needed someone to keep him alive in the first place, but this is what having an abusive ex does to you.
But the other choices here? All of them fair. She absolutely had no right to ask that of him, no matter the crime, that's just a fucked up thing to expect.
Being afraid to die? Valid, this shouldn't be put up to question.
Two last ones? Pure gold. I treat the fourth one as a direct jab at her own teachings, on how all magic needs to be preserved and studied? It's like him saying "Hey, I did what you expected and now your mad?".
The very last one is poetic justice. "I owe you nothing." and if that were me this would be the absolute end of this discussion. Mic drop, I'm out of here.
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And okay, I did take he self-pity route with "I let you down." here becuase this is what I believe is closest to how "canon" Gale feels about this. That's the most heartbreaking thing about it, that he believes he was not worth enough before and is even less now and doesn't deserve love, of any kind.
What are the other options? Well, all in character and each seems like a valid way for Gale to feel. But me, the player, who is fortunate to know some meta knowledge? Oh boy.
"I was a danger to you." No you weren't. She is the goddess of magic, one of the most powerful out here. She is magic. All you could do is make her day worse.
"I disobeyed you." Yeah, you did. And she sentenced you to a slow death for it.
"You were threatened." Eh, not really. But what comes after that statement? "You realised you couldn't control me."? Yes, that is the only thing she felt threatened about - loosing control.
"Our relationship bored you. The orb was just an excuse to end it." I mean... maybe? Not enough is known about it but seeing how all reincarnations of Mystra are fickle lovers at best I would say it's a possibility. Even if it is just his ego speaking here - damn, what a way to end a relationship.
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She has the audacity to tell him "he only thought of himself". Pot calling the kettle much?
Oooh, but I love what we can say here. The amout of vicious call outs here is superb.
We get to call out how much of a control freak she is. Then we can say how out of place was her punishment. Because I feel like it was a fucking equivalent of throwing a child into a dark cellar for breaking your favorite cup, while all they wanted to do was wash it for you. That is how imbalanced this whole thing is and I'm not taking criticism on that.
We also get to straight up ask what was the lesson if she never let him know what he really did and left him without means to make things right?
Then my favorite. Straight up ask her how many lives was she willing to sacrifice to get rid of the problem?
And last but not least - call her out on her lies. That's what she did. Why? I don't know. Was she afraid? Possibly, because the Karsite Weave + Crown of Karsus combo could potentially threaten her. Potentially, because as we saw in one of the Gale endings, she has no problem with just getting rid of a newly ascended god wielding them. That leads me to believe she is not afraid of loosing power as much as just being rivaled with. The indignity she has to suffer, truly.
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Hit a nail on the head here. Who cares about mortals, if they live or die and in how many droves? Competition comes knocking, so all gloves are off. And that is what I believe to be the crux of the matter. Mystra wants to remove the Absolute (because that's the new upstart god breaking the status quo), the orb containing he rival Weave, the Crown which threatens her rule over magic all in one swoop. Oh, and that one guy who tries too hard and refuses to die. No biggie. Who cares, she has a line of followers who would replace her Chosen at any given time.
I'm a salty bitch over the fact we can't keep the Crown of Karsus, but instead of using it - just hide it away again. Stablize Gale's Karsite Weave and keep that thing around, hidden away. Let her sweat over the idea someone else might find it one day and rival her rule.
I know I'm way too emotional about it, but like I said, it's very personal - I been there, done that, and never recovered in full after it. I'll die defending anyone and any pixels who are struggling with their self-worth and trying to get over an emotionally abusive relationships.
"Be the better person, die saving the world and I'll 'forgive' you." Fuck. You.
And a bonus, for those of you who stuck around till the end, because I was totally naming the screens and yelling at my monitor while doing this.
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lakesbian · 11 months
Text
alright this one is getting its own post instead of a reblog on a post that is Entirely Not About That. presenting the 'what if we put amy and alec in a room together' manifesto because the thing is that it is interesting but not in the way amy/alec shippers think
Amy shook her head, talking over her, “She’s always been emotional, passionate, unrestrained, and she’s channeling all this new emotion into hate, because it’s the closest equivalent.” “New emotion?” Regent asked.  “You mean you mindraped her.” Amy looked like she’d been slapped across the face.  I wasn’t surprised, but hearing it said out loud was unsettling.
“Nice,” Regent said.  “She could be a human-spider hybrid.  Add some insult to injury with the mindrape thing.” I could see Amy tense.
it is relevant to his character that he's the first person to cut through amy's euphemisms (and everyone else's avoidance of saying the unsettling part out loud) and outright say "you mindraped her." he calls the euphemistic language out and then intentionally repeats it a second time for no other reason than to bug her about it. it's vaguely reminiscent of something he says to sophia during his interlude:
“You and I are more alike than you’d suspect, I think,” he said. “We’re both arrogant assholes, yeah?  Difference is, I admit it, I don’t dress it up and tell myself that I’m a bitch and that that’s a good thing.”  He burned Emma’s face out of another photo.
he has a repeated habit of making people uncomfortable by calling something out for exactly what it is, whether it be "yeah sure cape groupies, my dad's girls, people i used my power on towards the end" or "you mean you mindraped her." he's desensitized enough to really all forms of violence to be unbothered by committing or witnessing them, but he seems to harbor a genuine pet peeve for people who obscure or unreasonably justify what they're actually doing. as uncomfortable as he can make taylor, it's often not that he's doing things worse than the other undersiders, but that he's the person most willing to openly admit what he's doing--or to pettily call out what someone else is doing.
i think it more or less boils down to the fact that he's never gotten to be the person on the peripherals of violence making up neat and tidy ways to talk about it: he spent his entire childhood being hurt in every way imaginable & being coerced into doing the same to others. i think it left him with a sort of genuine distaste for being expected to talk in circles around the viscerally awful things he had done to him or did to others, and subsequently, for people who have done similar things but can't fucking fess up to the reality of it. it's like he's been walking around his entire life just absolutely drenched in blood, witnessing so much else get covered in it, and he's starting to get legitimately bothered over people standing around twiddling their thumbs and pretending it's red paint. he knows it's blood. he's been tasting it since he was 6. he would really like if everyone else could also grow up and admit it's fucking blood.
it's always funny to me that amy/alec shipping is, like, a Thing--a niche thing, but a Thing, because i could not think of a rapist more hand-crafted to piss amy dallon off than alec vasil. he cannot go Three seconds in her presence without going "oh you raped her? you mean you raped her? with your mind? like she doesn't just have new feelings you specifically mean you mindraped her?"
she, on some level, views herself as someone who did harm because she's irrevocably, ontologically evil, and is sort of desperately obsessed with minimalizing or half-justifying her actions to herself so that she can avoid recognizing that she feels like she can't be better. she's clinging to the idea that she can be "redeemed" if she does something of equal measure in the opposite direction (e.g 'spending the rest of her life healing people' as she mentions), but because she can't even directly acknowledge how bad her actions actually were without crumbling under the weight of the idea that she's doomed to be that bad, she's fundamentally incapable of looking directly at what she did at this point in the story.
alec, on the other hand, is really fucking upfront and fairly objective about his actions--he never ties them into some Inarguable Truth About His Soul, and he's pretty honest about whether or not he thinks they're justifiable. in 14.1, he has this dialogue with cherie:
“When daddy had you practicing your powers, you ‘hijacked’ a few people at a time, used their bodies to get high with no consequences for you, you threw orgies for yourself…” “Again.  I was a kid.”
but despite the fact that sophia is, on some level, justified in his mind by his "eye for an eye, this is a favor for taylor" rhetoric--he's fine with admitting that he's also just doing it because, yeah, he's an arrogant asshole and he feels like it. some of it was because he was a kid being groomed, and some of it was because He Felt Like It.*
*sure, he only Felt Like It because he has a comically large cocktail of unpacked psychological issues--but he doesn't know that, he just knows he felt like it.
in other words, he doesn't subscribe to the idea that any of his actions are, like, Ontologically Predetermined By His Inner Being or even necessarily all related. he's like the fuckin' "might do it again, prolly not" dude from the sex offender shuffle. okay, sorry for saying that in my seriouspost. but his philosophies would clash hilariously badly with amy--he insists on accepting his own & others actions for exactly what they are, he's generally very invested in not being his father (being asked if he intends to turn out like his dad is one of the only times something briefly upsets him), and he's actually doing pretty okay at that. he's like...shockingly well-adjusted given the circumstances. his entire arc is more or less a slow upward climb.
i think having to be around someone who both believes and would outright admit "yeah i raped people, no i dunno if i feel that bad, no i'm not raking myself over the coals for it, yeah some of it was because i was a kid, yeah some of the other stuff wasn't, no i'm not Predestined To Suck," would like. clash with her beliefs abt 'ontologically evil' being a real thing, abt punishment as justice, etc. in a way that would really bother her. she spends a lot of her time in her head trying to twist things around until they feel salvageable to her, but alec is 0 amount concerned with rationalizing to make him feel alright--he just does things, some bad, most shitty attempts to be better.
it's, funnily enough, far more functional for improving than what amy has going on--he operates on material actions as opposed to her Self-Flagellating Thought Labyrinths, and the fact that he's busier moving on from things he can't materially change than he is kicking himself in the face means he can actually achieve some form of progress towards more functional approaches wrt human interaction. i think if amy had an extended conversation w/ him about the subject, she'd both be disgusted with him for not thinking thoughtcrime is real and deeply resentful that this fellow ontologically evil villain is doing better at moving forwards as a person than her despite not 24/7 flagellating himself + yearning for "redemption" like she is. it'd throw a disturbingly large wrench in her worldview, and she would not be happy about it.
oh, and alec would think she's weird and mopey and dumb and annoying and "why do it if you can't even admit it." and he would probably tell her as much. which is the point where i unlock the door to the room so alec can sprint out to escape amy's attempt to put tastebuds on his asshole.
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itsbubbleteataro · 2 months
Text
Like we're gonna die young
Warnings; drink and alcohol abuse (getting clean) angel dust being angel dust, the Vs
Parings; Alastor x fem reader
Part one of ?
(I blasted so much early 2000s/2010s pop with a sprinkling of punk, playlist here
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You didn't think you were a big deal. You were just some pop star from the early 2000s who ended up in hell. You just liked to keep the party going. When you showed up in hell you found yourself with animalistic features.
Your already wild multi-colored hair be wilder and longer. Your legs now looked something akin to a wolf's. You have two large wold ears. Shrugging you did the only thing you knew how, party. You walked into the nearest club, got too drunk and broke out into a Kesha song. Next thing you know, your a social media hit.
It's been a few years since you came to hell and became an overnight hit. You went to the same bar, acting as some kind of unpaid performer if you were on enough drugs or drunk enough.
You were in a booth, sipping on something someone handed you a while ago, scratching your arm. You were withdrawing, trying to go clean on your own. You knew that you couldn't do alcohol on your own, you would need to get medical help for that one, but drugs? You figured you could do it.
You were three days, you found that scratching your arm seemed to work for now, but it wouldn't quench the hunger that was there. It's been two days and you already wanted to relapse.
You were irritated, only made worse by a new presence at the club, the Vs. All three of them, sitting in the vip section. You gulped as you watched them all take a seat, and the owner of the club, Rina walked over.
Rina had animalistic traits just like you did, only instead of wolf like, she's more fox like. Rina has skin that's more akin to fur, cunning jade colored eyes and long well kept black hair. Rina looked at you with sympathy. She's the only one who knew you were at least trying to get clean.
"(Y/n) I hate to ask, but do you think you could preform tonight? I know you don't work here but the Vs are hear and I'm panicking!"
You nodded agreeing and standing up. You quickly swallowed the rest of your drink while Rina looked at you thankful. The two of you were close, friends. Yet you refused to work under her. You were thinking leaving your empty glass on the bar as you leaned against it.
You snapped your clawed fingers as you knew what song you wanted to do, your fluffy tail waving back and forth to the sound of the music that was already playing.
Before you could even start a second familiar face walked up to you. You recognized her. Cassidy had short black hair cut in a bob. Her eyes inky pools of black with white. She dressed as if she fit into the club crowd, but you knew her better and knew she would much rather wear something else. She snaked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close,
"(Y/n) I need a favor~ I promise I'll get you whatever ya want if you do it"
Cassidy asked quite straight forward. You nodded your head so she continued,
"Get Vox to talk about himself for me, I've got a hunch he's been up to something"
"Cassie, you know he already does that-"
"Yeah yeah I know but I hear he's been doing a little cheating~"
You raised an eyebrow. Now this was interesting. You always thought Vox and Valentino were an item, apparently they weren't exclusive if they were. You had no idea Vox had even gotten himself into a relationship, let alone knew anyone who would openly date him. You felt bad for whoever he was with, that is if what Cassidy was saying was true.
"Ya got proof?"
You know Cassidy usually doesn't talk to you about things like this unless she has proof. Both you and Rina gasped as the picture Cassie held up with a smirk.
Sure enough it was Vox with a man, making out in a back alley. You smirked, having just the song to push his buttons the way Cassie wanted you too.
As the three of you conversed on a little plan, Angel Dust, Husk, Cheri bomb, Nifty and Sir Pentious walked in the club. Charlie and Vaggie were in Heaven for a meeting about the extermination and Alastor was out for an overlord meeting. Charlie had asked Cheri bomb to take them all out on an outing while the three were away and they ended up at the very same club you were.
The bunch took their seats, Angel Dust making sure to keep an eye on Nifty and making sure she wasn't drinking too much, ending up placing her in Husk's care as she played with his feline like ears.
The music in the club was quickly replaced by yours. (Link here to song) people started cheering as they realized they you were finally singing for the night.
Your foot thumped against the ground as the song started, tail wagging with excitement. As you opened your mouth to sing you cringed, you sounded tipsy. Shaking the thought from your head, the show went on.
Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb realized right away who you were from the start of your performance.
"Holy shite it's (y/n) she's here tonight? Fuck yeah!"
Cheered Cherri Bomb as the group now watched you. While everyone but Nifty, she was busy playing with Husk's wings. Husk raised an eyebrow as Angel Dust pulled out his phone to record the performance.
Meanwhile Rina had taken the picture from Cassie and use her abilities to shift her appearance. Her usual fox like features turned to a more hellborn like one, choosing to look like an imp from lust as that would fit in more. She took the picture from Cassie and set off behind you.
You sang and made your way over to the Vs. you smirked, wanting to get under their skin, but not enough to the point where they would kill you.
As you placed your finger under what you would consider to be Vox's chin, the firm flat metallic edge of his flat screen tv face, Rina walked up, setting down the picture Cassie took.
You take your leave, hips swaying as Angel Dust watches closely, eyebrow lifted. Rina leans over the table and slides the picture to Vox and also takes her leave.
Angel dust focuses his camera on Vox, whose screen glitches for a moment as Val raises an eyebrow before moving it to Rina who shape shifts back into her regular form, before locating your form once more.
You're dancing on the bar, shaking your hips, hands in your hair, enjoying the rush of the show. Angel stops his recording and turns to the group, motioning for them to head back.
The group makes its way to the hotel where Angel makes the mistake of leaving his phone open, with the video up and playing on the main table, having been called over by Charlie for something.
Alastor comes waltzing in after his Overlord meeting, looking over at the miniature picture box he so detested. He raised his staff, about to break it, when he watched your interaction with Vox. The way you looked at him with a slight smirk on your features followed by the picture being slid over almost made him feel something.
Was it admiration? Was it respect? He didn't really care to find out quite yet, all he knew is that he found you quite interesting. He paused the video as it zoomed in on you, smile wide on your face, clearly drunk, but enjoying yourself.
Yes he didn't quite enjoy seeing how drunk you were, but it still didn't change the fact that you had managed to get under Vox's skin with nothing more than what seemed just like a photograph.
He may not have knew how he was feeling but he did know
He just positively had to get his claws on that photograph
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@slytherin4ever @iheartpieck @luzzbuzz
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milaisreading · 5 months
Text
🌱🩷: 9th story of the Christmas special... I was a little too silly goofy here...
Pairings: Oliver Aiku x Isagi's sister!Yn (Post-Blue Lock tl)
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Angst...
⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️
🎄Dec 18th🎄
'Finally back home.' Oliver smiled as he walked down the familiar streets of Tokyo, specifically one of the wards, Shinagawa. Oliver expected nothing less than a cold day, since it was December 20th already. He returned from Italy the night before, and after a good night of rest, the pro-player decided to explore the capital. Everything was in festive mood, and Oliver couldn't help but be in awe with the decorations. It was nearly as good as the ones he saw in Italy, but these ones had a more personal touch to them. During his walk, he did get recognized by some fans and took pictures with them.
Oliver chuckled as he remembered a few of the girls trying to flirt with him. While he did flirt back, he couldn't help but feel nothing while doing so.
"They seem... pretty happy." Oliver muttered and stopped when he noticed a couple a few meters away, laughing and carrying some presents. Oliver's smile turned into a frown as a familiar heartache hit him... for the 5th time that month.
'Is she single? Or did she find someone else?' Oliver gulped and shook his head when the last thought hit him. He doesn't expect (Y/n) to stay single forever, or wait for him... but her being with someone else did sadden him.
'I made my own bed. It's what I get for what I did all those years ago.' Oliver took a deep breath and went to look for a café, trying to forget about her.
'(Y/n)... I wonder how she is doing? Does she ever think of me.'
🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️
Years prior...
"I hate you! I hate that I even trusted you!" (Y/n) sobbed as Oliver flinched at her sobs and tried to move closer to her, but she recoiled and glared at him.
"Is... is it so hard to just love me? And stay faithful?"
Oliver said nothing, too ashamed to really say anything.
'What am I supposed to even say? Sorry you found me kissing another girl?' Oliver flinched as he watched her wipe a few tears away. He really didn't mean any of this. He wanted to make her happy, unlike last time. But it looks like he made this worse than last time.
"Do... do you hate me so much that you can't break up properly?"
"I don't hate you!" Oliver yelled back, but the glare she sent him was enough to shut him up.
"Really? The first time you broke up with me was over text, in the most dry way possible. And now, now you do this! You could have just told me that you can't do long distance!"
"(Y/n), I really do love you! I am sorry, I was weak for a moment and I couldn't help it."
She rolled her eyes and went to pick up the suitcase that was left on the floor.
"Where are you going?" Oliver gulped, walking after her.
"Please-"
"I am over this. You are a unreliable jerk, who can't be loyal to someone for 4 months?! And as to where I am going, it's none of your business. I am not your worry anymore."
She glared at him and was about to leave the apartment, but Oliver grabbed her shoulder.
"Of course you are my worry. I love you and-"
"No, you don't!" (Y/n) yelled back, moving out of his grip. Oliver moved away, both afraid of her rage and sad by the disdain she held in her eyes.
'Last time we saw each other, it was love.' Oliver recalled. (Y/n) took a deep breath and spoke up again.
"You don't hurt the people you love. If you dare to even follow me, I will scream. Got it?"
Oliver gulped and nodded his head as she put on her shoes.
"Goodbye, Aiku. Feel free to have as much fun as possible." She huffed and left the apartment. Oliver watched her leave and slowly closed the door behind himself. He was fighting the urge to puke.
'Is it really over?'
☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄
'I screwed up so bad... I wish I could go back in time.' Oliver sighed as he watched his cup of hot chocolate. Not even its sweetness could sheer him up anymore. He ignored the people in the the background and just went back to his phone. He smiled as he saw some new pictures of (Y/n) that were posted. For the first 4 months after the break up, Oliver didn't hear much about her. Just a few things from Barou or Aryu, if they felt like saying anything. After that, pictures of her modeling in Madrid, Barcelona, Milan, and Rome started slowly appearing on his social media. It surprised Oliver, since he knew (Y/n) as a more private person, who always tried to stay away from cameras. But, things seemed to have changed after the break-up, he guessed.
'Modeling does suit her, she looks beautiful-'
"Aiku? You are here, too?"
The pro-players heart stopped for a moment and he looked up to find (Y/n)'s shocked face.
'Beautiful.' He gulped and blinked a few times before getting up from his seat.
"(Y-Y/n)... you are here? In Japan?" Oliver asked, dumbfounded as the older Isagi slowly nodded her head, feeling a little awkward.
'Thank God there aren't many people here to cause a scene.' Oliver thought, looking at the half-empty café.
"Yeah...uhm.... I came here a few days ago. I am guessing they gave you in Ubers a week off too."
"They did. Oh! Sit down, please. Don't stand there." Oliver offered her the seat across from him.
"Thanks, but I will be going soon. We just came here to buy some pastries."
"Ahh~ Ok, I understand. Wait, we? Is your bro here too?"
(Y/n) blushed and shook her head, then pointed at a familiar redhead standing in front of the cashier.
"Sae? You... you and Sae are friends now?" Oliver blinked, trying to not show any distaste at the idea.
"We... uh, Sae and I are engaged, actually." (Y/n) answered silently, showing a ring that was on her left hand. Seeing the item, Oliver felt nausea come over him.
"T-that's great. I didn't know..." He trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"Yeah, Sae and I wanted to keep this relationship out of public eye. But we plan on announcing the engagement in the next few days." (Y/n) smiled brightly. Oliver couldn't help but to notice that this smile was way... brighter than the once she gave him back in the day.
'It's like, she is completely herself with Sae.' He bit the inside of his cheek, then gave her a tight smile.
"Happy to hear that. I am... glad to see that you are doing well. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I haven't been this happy in a long while." (Y/n) admitted.
'Are you happier with him than with me?' Oliver wanted to ask, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.
"Hope you are doing great, too. Yoichi told me Ubers did pretty well last season." (Y/n)'s words woke him up from his thoughts.
"Yeah. We have been doing good. I am, happy with my life so far."
'I really am not.' Was what Oliver wanted to say, but (Y/n) is no longer the one to who he can talk about those things. She wasn't responsible for it, anymore.
"(Y/n), let's go. We need to pick up Rin and Yoichi from the airport." Sae called out, causing (Y/n) to nod her head, then she turned to look back at Oliver.
"It was great meeting you again... and thank you for everything. The good and even the bad times, they really helped me grow." (Y/n) said softly as Oliver slowly nodded his head.
"Thank you for everything, too. Hope you have a good holiday with everyone."
The pro-player said, raising his hand for a fist-bumb. The girl smiled and nodded her head.
"Thanks. Have a great Christmas, too."
With a fist-bumb, (Y/n) left Oliver's side and walked over to where Sae was. The black-haired player fought back a few tears as he saw (Y/n) take Sae's hand and leave the café. It hurt more than when she had left 4 years ago.
"Damn it..." Oliver muttered as he sat down on his chair again and hid his face in his hands.
'It's another goodbye... How ironic that it happened again during this time of the year.'
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Ok everyone has me in a punk Steve & Eleven mind set.
This is refining & combining two separate Steve being close with the girls/El au ideas I've had recently
So, what if Steve was the one who found Eleven on that first night, everything would fall out so differently from there
Since he cancelled on Nancy no party with secret government psychic kid on the property, Barb didn't die. When Will got taken, Barb & Nancy both know Jonathan so they get involved through helping & supporting him.
Meanwhile Steve was panicking while actively hiding a mostly nonverbal child. He's almost certain she's been severely neglected at least, probably abused. Bad things have happened to her, he recognized the signs. He'd been that kid. He sees himself in the way she's jumpy, defensive, weirdly naive, in the way she always waits to see what he's doing first, before she says or does anything herself.
He won't to give her back to whomever she ran from, can't bring himself to do that to another kid. His parents were never home so they're not a problem but he doesn't know what the fuck to do about the government.
In a panic he went to the guy he bought his weed from (he knows how to hide from the cops right?)
Eddie Munson
Eddie didn't know what was going on in Hawkins but what he did know was that all these undercover government vans weren't here for a wild animal attack... or him, thank the Deities for small favors.
So when Steve fucking Harrington showed up on his doorstep with a magical child, panic in his and eyes, and no idea what to do next, Eddie was mostly relieved.
Relieved and maybe just a little intrigued
An escaped secret government psychic kid, a totally different missing kid of the same age, a town full of under cover fbi vans(or worse), and these reported animal attacks had to be connected, if Eddie was running this campaign he would never have this much going on at once that wasn't part of a larger connected story. He just couldn't see the whole picture yet. They needed more information & they needed resources
Jonathan & Nancy had been acting super suspicious the last few days. Eddie usually minded his business but under these circumstances, after a brief urgent discussion, they decided it might be wise to just pop in and see what was what. Maybe they knew what the hell was going on. They could all compare notes at least
They took Eddie's van bc he was not gonna be at the mercy of Steve Harrington for transportation. Doing foolish shit like that could get you hate crimed... Plus being the town weed slinger had it's benefits. He knew where everyone lived.
On the way to try and find the other kids to compare those notes, Eleven, who was very quiet but had an eerie way of just knowing things, found the crate he kept ppl's forgotten tapes in, there was a little bit of everything in that crate, a musical lost and found that he couldn't bring himself to discard, even if he personally thought the music was boring
Eleven picked a tape, waving it at them like it had significance.
Well why not?
Steve showed her how to put it in the tape deck. The Runaways crashed into life on his better then average speakers. Eddie expected Steve to complain, but he just listened very very closely, eyes closed like he was straining to hear the lyrics over the heavy guitars.
"you ok Stevie?"
"huh? Yeah yeah, this is just... relatable. I kinda didn't expect it, you know? ... Do you think they'll be able to help?"
There was only one way to find out, they were here. The Byers residence blinked dimly. Eddie thought the cheer was ominous given the circumstances.
Eleven appeared between the seats, brow furrowed.
"we need to hurry, it's coming"
WELL THAT WASN'T TERRIFYING AT ALL-
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