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#besides anya just deserves it
queen-feisty-pants · 2 years
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With tsundere!Twilight out in full force this chapter, I’m curious about how he’ll actually behave at home. 🤔
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misswynters · 2 months
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Fragmented Memory
[warning: pure angst and sadness, jace crying
[note | this is my first time writing pure angst… i think 💭 that’s crazy -anya
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You woke up in the healer's tent, your head pounding and the world a blur. Faces hovered over you, but none of them sparked recognition. One face, however, stood out—a man with eyes filled with worry and pain.
"Do you remember me?" he asked, his voice trembling.
You searched your mind, but it was like grasping at shadows. "I... I don't know you," you stammered, guilt twisting in your chest as you saw his face fall.
"I'm Jacaerys," he said softly, tears brimming in his eyes. "We've been through so much together."
Despite his words, there was nothing—no spark of recognition, no comforting memory to hold onto. "I'm sorry," you whispered, hating the blank slate your mind had become.
In the days that followed, Jacaerys tried to rekindle your past by sharing stories and moments you had once cherished. He spoke of moonlit dances and whispered promises, but none of it brought back your memory. You tried to listen, to grasp at the fragments of your shared history, but it all felt distant and unreal.
One evening, as the sun set, painting the sky in shades of sorrow, Jacaerys sat beside you, holding your hand. "Even if you never remember," he said, his voice breaking, "I'll love you. I always will."
You squeezed his hand, a small gesture of comfort you couldn't fully comprehend. You wished you could be the person he remembered, the one he loved. But all you could offer was your presence, a shadow of who you used to be.
As the stars appeared, Jacaerys rested his head on your shoulder, the warmth of your body a bittersweet reminder of what you both had lost. He whispered stories of your past, of your first kiss under a starlit sky, of the promises you made by the roaring sea. His words were filled with love and longing, each one a dagger to your heart.
You could see the pain in his eyes every time he looked at you, the hope that flickered and died with each passing day. He spoke of your bravery in battle, of the way you held him when he cried, of the laughter you shared. But it all felt like someone else's life, someone else's love.
The next morning at the break of dawn, as the moonlight streamed through the tent, Jacaerys broke down, tears streaming down his face. "I miss you so much," he sobbed, his voice filled with anguish. "I miss us."
You held him, feeling his pain as if it were your own. You wished you could remember, to give him the solace he so desperately needed. But all you had were empty promises and a heart that ached for something you couldn't recall.
As the nights grew colder, you watched Jacaerys's hope slowly fade. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a deep, unrelenting sorrow. He stayed by your side, his love unwavering, but you could see the toll it took on him.
As the hours passed by, you looked at Jacaerys, his face etched with the lines of sleepless nights and endless worry. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice heavy with regret. "I'm sorry I can't remember."
He smiled weakly, a tear slipping down his cheek. "It's not your fault," he said softly. "I'll always love you, no matter what."
You pulled him close, wishing you could be the person he deserved. As you held him, you felt a faint flicker of something—perhaps a memory, or maybe just the ghost of a forgotten love. But it was enough to hold onto, even if it was fleeting.
In your mind, flashes of the battle came unbidden, chaotic and jumbled. You had ridden into the fray beside Jacaerys, your swords cutting through the enemy forces. The clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filled the air. It was in the midst of this chaos that it happened—a heavy blow to the back of your head. You had been thrown from your horse, the world spinning into darkness.
When you woke up, the memories of who you were, and who you loved, had vanished. Now, as Jacaerys held you, the echo of that fateful day lingered in your mind—a ghost of a past you couldn’t grasp, but one that had forever changed your future. Your heart aches and is missing something however you don’t know what that is. All you can hope is for your memory to come back, if that’s even possible.
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[a/n: i let out a tear…
taglist: @benjicotblckwood @spn-obession @beebeechaos
banner: @cafekitsune
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tellmeallaboutit · 3 months
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knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)
Chapter 6, In Which You Try To Look Away (It's Harder Than You Thought)
AO3
by the way, I saw today an art on twitter which is extremely Raul-coded
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I am not a murderer, you thought as you ordered the ATM to give you another two hundred euros.
Even if I am, that guy deserved it, you thought as you re-inserted the card to give you two hundred more (damn those limits per withdrawal).
Even if he didn’t (and he did), nobody is going to miss him, and his fiancee will move on to the next lawyer in Oliver Peoples glasses soon enough, and besides, people die in freak accidents all the time. 
Even if they don’t, well, if every death wish resulted in an actual death, humanity would be long extinct and that wouldn't be your fault, would it now?
With that comforting thought, you pocketed the last of your ten thousand euro goal, tired from having to repeat the same task for almost an entire hour. Anything can happen, Raphael could cut off access to his account on a whim, but cold hard cash was something you could hold onto even if you fell from his grace.
"Ms. Berger," came a voice on your phone with a strong French accent the moment you picked up. It was Raphael’s banker, Francois-something, who gave you the PIN in the first place. “Would it be easier if we delivered cash directly to you? Your withdrawals keep triggering our petty theft alerts."
"Oh no, thank you," you replied, trying your best not to sound like a petty thief. "I have enough for now... I think."
“As you wish,” came his slow reply.
"But uh... could you help me make two bank transfers?" You asked after a pause. "One to my mother, Franziska Berger… (how much how much how much?) ten thousand euro, I’ll send you the details… and one for the stray cats shelter... (how much how much how much?)… five thousand euro?"
Too much? How do you quantify the cost of accidentally-on-purpose getting some useless yuppie run over by a bus in terms of absolving your sins? 
Five thousand felt somewhat stingy.
“The stray cats?” The banker repeated back at you as though questioning whether this was some sort of coded drug deal.
“Yes,” You replied firmly. “They do incredible work. Ah! The kids cancer foundation, too. Five thousand. No, ten".
That seemed about right for the guy’s life.
"Ah, you meant charity. Of course," Francois replied, relief and amusement in his tone. "Lovely, great for the ESG rating. Make sure to get an invoice for the tax refund."
It didn’t quite sit well with you to use stray cats and kids for tax refunds, but you still said yes and stashed the money deep down the rucksack. You got a bit of cash for now (soon you will go for more, because who knows), but it’s still not an income source. 
What could be? Should you ask Raphael to buy an apartment in your name, or two? You could rent it. Or a company? Tenebris, for instance. Just imagine their gobsmacked faces - especially after they gave you the boot without even a severance package.
That was a delicious thought.
You let it simmer as you sat down in an tourist-trappy Italian restaurant in the city centre, just about to order an Aperol Spritz when your phone began to ring again. You are in high demand these days.
"Anya!" Your mum gasped on the other end of the line. “I saw you on TV!"
Sure, the accident was all over the news channels. Some blurred out the dead body better than others did. You would bet your last cent that the unedited version got more views.
"Yeah, gruesome," you grimaced.
"Gruesome? Why? Ah, you mean the guy. Well, that happens all the time; they really give driving licences to anyone these days. I do hope the driver rots in prison for what he did to this poor young man. Anyway, no. I called to say, I saw you and Raul on the news”.
She managed to infuse an uncanny amount of innuendo into the last sentence.
“Raul is such a handsome man, Anya”, she sighed wistfully. “Quite the catch you got there, huh?”
There we go again. 
“What, way out of my league?”, you joked dryly. “I’ve been told that”.
“Oh, no, what nonsense! You are such a pretty girl!” Your mother protested. “More importantly, a good-hearted girl raised right; I am glad there still are decent men who still appreciate that. Did you meet Raul for a lunch?”
“Oh no,” You replied nonchalantly. "We actually… ah, we actually went to a church. He introduced me to his pastor."
Your mother sucked in an audible gasp like she'd won some kind of maternal lottery.
“His pastor, already? I am so happy for you, sweetie.”, she finally managed to say. “This is like a fairy tale come true”.
Yeah, a Grimm one.
“Sort of”, you chuckled. '“By the way, you will receive a bank transfer soon, ten thousand euro, don’t be afraid. It’s… well, take care of your health, okay? Get a decent dentist this time, a private one”.
“Where do you have the money from? Is it his?”, your mum suddenly sobered up. “Anya, what on earth is he paying you money for? I hope you are not doing anything… anything…”
"No," you cut her off and licked your lips, recalling the last thing that passed between them. “Mom, please! It's not his money, it's my company’s – long story.”
One that you haven't come up with yet.
Besides, if Raphael was giving you ten thousand dollars (thirty-five thousand in total with your other expenses for the day) for one blowjob, then you definitely had a successful career, just not in the field you had planned on.
“Okay,” your mum replied. “But still...you don’t need to...why don’t you buy some nice dresses instead? What on earth was that t-shirt you were wearing to a church?"
“I am hanging up”, You threatened half-heartedly.
You didn’t. You listened in the background to the story of how your mum’s school friend called her to say she saw “her Anya” with a very handsome man on the TV, nonplussed by the fact there was a scattered corpse in the background. 
In the meanwhile, you opened Google on your phone. 
You didn’t fancy doing that before - annoyed by that fake persona Raphael had created. But since he obviously put that much effort in it, it’s worth looking up what he had been up to and for how long.
Nothing good, for sure.
"…Raul D'Avergni, managing partner of an international law firm, inherited the private equity conglomerate, Avernus Capital. This transition was precipitated by the unexpected and tragic passing of his father..."
"…By December 2024, D'Avergni's high-profile liaison with Isabelle Arnaud, actress and socialite, had unceremoniously ended..."
No. Who? No. You didn’t need any ex-girlfriends.
"…Ms. Arnaud levied abuse accusations against Mr. D'Avergni…”
Oh, no…
“…she retracted her claims within a mere twenty hours and ensued a public apology for any harm inflicted upon D’Avergni’s reputation..."
Hmm.
"…her psychiatrist intervened on her behalf. Evidently, Arnaud was grappling with severe mental health issues that led her to make unfounded allegations..."
Raul likes them crazy, they said? Or makes them crazy?
"…Ms. Arnaud now resides in a high-end medical institution in Monaco, focusing on her mental health issues..."
What did Isabelle look like, you wondered, as your mum finished her talk and wished you a good day. You typed her name into the search bar, holding your breath in anticipation as you half-expected to see Hope's face staring back at you.
The woman clinging to Raphael's arm at some fancy film premiere bore no resemblance.
Your stomach sank as if it had plunged into the depths of hell.
She was exactly the type of woman Raphael should have on his elbow; a timeless beauty, but something more Renaissance like, the kind of faces humankind seemed to have stopped producing. She was in her mid-twenties, as well, but… hell, you could not hold a candle to that. Few could. 
Not even the Tavs. She resembled her namesake, Isabelle Adjani, in her youth, maybe even better.
The pictures showed her laughing and looking deeply in love while gazing up at Raphael, while he offered only a very formal smile to the camera. So not Hope then. Nothing like their story. She was in love, he wasn’t. 
Good.
Later snaps by paparazzi painted a different picture: a gaunt woman hidden behind oversized sunglasses and swallowed up by her hoodie, clutching to her coffee cup. 
With a swift click, you banished Isabelle from your screen and plunged further into Raphael's (Raul’s) life story.
You found a photo of Raphael in his twenties (yes, just like the Tumblr post you hated, and no, you wouldn't have fucked him at that age), caught up in a minor scandal in Sankt Moritz (apparently his fraternity brother had pissed on the Swiss flag), more gossip, his philanthropic affairs for local theatres and art galleries, numerous articles praising his professional achievements, and interviews with Lawyer and WSJ and the like. There was mention of a brief marriage and divorce in his early thirties, but when you tried to Google the woman's name, nothing came up.
The whole thing left a sour taste in your mouth. This was someone's real life story, not a fictional character. Raphael wasn't just some wealthy corporate jerk; he was a half-devil from Avernus, which was infinitely better and more sympathetic.
You were well aware that Raphael wasn't exactly a good guy. But he had his rules; he had to have his rules. As for the whole thing with Hope though... What exactly was she? An idea? A person? The fandom barely discussed her, and what little they did, you didn't like; all horrible takes, every single one.
The whole plot felt half-baked.
Anyway, what seeing Isabelle did motivate you to do was to take a real stroll down the city's most expensive boutique street.
Now, the first thing you bought was not because you wanted or needed anything, but because Raphael expected you to. You were not much of a materialist anyway; you were ideologically opposed to consumerism. These things were overpriced, generally not worth it and, on a larger scale, represented everything that was wrong with society.
You decided to enter a Valentino store out of curiosity, as you had never been inside one before. The saleswoman's disdainful look at your T-shirt motivates you to buy a black dress with a white collar, not necessarily because you liked it, but because you want to prove that you can afford it, despite the price tag of two thousand euros. 
Well, you liked it a little. The wool and silk blend was great to touch.
The details of the rest of the shopping trip became a bit hazy. You had your reasons; the consort of an Archdevil Supreme had to look really nice. If you couldn't be as pretty as Isabelle, you could at least dress as well as she did. So you started with some nice blouses and trousers, and a (just one) jacket. With that, you needed shoes. With shoes, of course, you needed a bag. Now that you had a bag (you closed your eyes as the price flashed at the till), you needed some jewellery (you needed to see what all the fuss about Tiffany's was about). And, of course, you needed make-up. 
At each shop, the sales assistants smiled wider and wider as you piled more and more bags onto your arms. By the seventh stop, it felt like their smiles were entering uncanny valley territory. 
Eventually, the banker would call you, right? But when exactly would that be? You tried to find out, but failed. It had to be over forty thousand.
The thought made you dizzy. In one day you had spent your entire year's salary. Now all you could do was hope that Raphael wouldn't make you work off the debt somehow. Unless it was the kind of work your mother suspected you were already doing for him.
You came out of the last shop with five bags and the feeling that you were a very shitty socialist. Since you couldn't carry any more, the shopping concierge (apparently it's a real job) offered to store the bags until your driver picked you up, and just as you were about to say which bloody driver, whom do you take me for, you remembered that you actually had one.
"Mrs Berger," the receptionist said cheerfully the moment she saw you in the door. "Nice to see you again! How can I help you? Oh, yes. The driver, of course. Yes, of course, let me put you through to Mr D'Avergni's personal assistant".
Oh, it's Mrs Berger and my pleasure? They were wondering if the rumours about you wanting the guy to be run over by a bus were already out there. The personal assistant's name was Camilla, her voice was the embodiment of professionalism, and she was the one who could take you to the driver, who was there in no time.
His name was Yuri and he was more talkative than you would have liked. Gruff, huge, way too big for the car he was driving (any vehicle known to man would be too small for him), with a deep booming voice and the face of someone who had spent half his life behind bars.
"Have you seen that poor bastard? All over the main road," he remarked as he passed the street cleaners. "Probably too busy fiddling with his phone to keep an eye out."
"Mghgm," you offered. 
"So, are we stopping by your place first, Miss Berger? Boss said you wanted to get some things first. Are you moving in?"
"Am I?" You ask, surprised by the news yourself, and then think to yourself: "Why not?”
Why the hell not.
****
You didn't waste any time. With a tidy suitcase in tow, you were out the door of your apartment before Yuri could get too bored. You packed the essentials - toothbrush, laptop, documents - and a few other things that suddenly felt crucial to your life.
Out the car window you watched the cityscape change from urban jungle to manicured suburbia and finally to a small gated community. The driver talked politics (he had exactly the kind of convictions you'd expect), then about how amazing Raul was (and how extremely open-minded he was to give an ex-con a job), before returning to politics. 
You didn't ask what crime Yuri did his time for. 
You knew it was Raphael's house the moment you saw it through the car window. Who else would live in such a place? Not a house, that's too boring a term; a villa, all intricate stonework, marble and terracotta, such a flamboyant display of wealth that it should have been taxed just to exist. 
Only a devil or a mafia don would call such grandeur home. So much, too much, theatrical to the point of grotesqueness; no real person could possibly live like this. You couldn't help but wonder if Raphael had been influenced by the films he had seen - perhaps he had developed a taste for modern cinema.
He must have liked The Godfather.
This place. The fountains, the statues (classical, Roman, as if sculpted by the ghost of Michelangelo), the gardens. You wondered how many souls it took to keep this whole thing running.
The gates opened and the car drove you into an underground car park that was already very busy and very Italian: Ferraris, Maseratis, Lamborghinis. You counted; eight. Who needed eight cars? Not even one for each day of the week. 
The lift took you up; Yuri left your shopping bags and suitcase in the foyer and said goodbye.
You'd never set foot in such a house before; the closest you'd ever come was drooling over Sotheby's property listings.
Why would anyone need all this space? For just one person? It was at least six hundred square metres; and the guest and service house looked like another two hundred. The kitchen and dining area was three times the size of your apartment.
You could play golf here.
For what it's worth, the villa didn't remind you of the House of Hope. Firstly, it was completely empty; the servants, if they were in there, managed to make themselves invisible. Second, it lacked the baroque, replaced by the dolce vita and flair of a Lake Como residence. Thirdly, there were no self-portraits, not even pictures, nothing to suggest that the man who lived here had a face, a history, let alone a family.
The first floor was devoted to entertaining guests: the kitchen, the dining room, the library, the ballroom (you guessed this kind of rooms used to be called ballrooms, he even had a piano in it). The second floor was half-locked, except for the master bedroom (the bed easily could accommodate two orthons and a cambion sandwiched between them) and the dressing room. 
There was also a basement - the entrance blocked by a number lock. You considered trying the PIN combination, but decided you didn't want to snoop down there... well, you wanted to snoop very badly, but you didn't want to face the possible consequences. Unless they resembled those in his private club.
So you roamed both floors twice before staking claim to your new sleeping quarters in the master bedroom by putting your suitcase down there. You checked everything else in the room: Raphael's bedside glasses, his choice of books (predictably, Machiavelli, but not The Prince, another book you had never heard of called Mandragola), even his dark silk pyjamas, which lay on the chaise awaiting their owner's return. You open his drawer: hand lotion, velvet sleeping mask, lubricant, two opera tickets (Götterdammerung) from about a month ago... 
Then curiosity led you to look under his bed, where he indeed had something stored: a large black storage box.
Oh, you just had to have a look. 
Just to get an idea of what’s on the evening programme.
Handcuffs, the real kind, the police kind, metal ones. The thought of all the women (and men) who might have been bound with them, as jealous as it made you feel, was titillating. A whip and a crop. Yes, that works for you. And what's this? Butt plugs? Only if they were still sealed in their original packaging (you were not into that kind of hand-me-downs) and way smaller. A chastity belt? Well, that's... intriguing, but probably not in your first month together. A hook? That can stay where it is.
At least nothing too extreme like needles or enemas or any of the other disgusting things you sometimes saw on weird porn sites.
Underneath all that, toys and accessories, lay another plain black box. Oh, a box in a box. Something was written on it.. 
GOOD EVENING CURIOUS LITTLE MOUSE
"Good evening," you said as you opened the lid.
Then promptly closed it again.
"No," you said. "No, no, no. It was just a fic I read and liked, I was very horny, but it's not really my thing. No, thank you. Just because I didn't have a father doesn't mean I have daddy issues. I don't care about the guy, he never cared about me, end of story".
You took a deep breath before opening the box again, hoping that the items inside had disappeared. 
But to your dismay, they were still there: a velvet collar adorned with "Daddy's Little Mouse" in shimmering gold thread, a headband with mouse ears, red lace cobweb-thin lingerie and a tail-butt plug (thankfully still in its original packaging and on the smaller side). The tail was furry and tipped with white, so you must have been a dormouse.
All of the toys were top quality, handmade, and incredibly vulgar. Well, no surprise, having seen what Haarlep was wearing in his house.
You closed the box shut again.
"I'd rather cook us something to eat," you suggested, getting up. "Some pasta. I bet you like pasta?"
You definitely liked pasta and hoped that Raul (Raphael, Raphael) would not have you hanged on the hooks and tortured for your very non-Italian interpretation. You hoped in vain, because he chimed in and tried to stop you from committing a crime:
"Working late. Don't bother with dinner. Take some time to relax and enjoy yourself. R".
As you descended the stairs, ignoring his text, you wondered - did he ever cook? Or was his kitchen just for show, with the real work done in the servants' quarters (do they still call them quarters?).
You forgot that question the moment you saw what was lying on the marble kitchen counter.
The same box you had left upstairs, still with 
GOOD EVENING DISOBEDIENT LITTLE MOUSE 
on it. 
You blinked and took two large steps back. 
The box seemed to crawl forward in response.
You shrieked; this was a bit too much. Raphael's presence, the supernaturality of it, had been subtle before; now it was becoming a bit performative.
"I got your hint," you said, your voice a shaky laugh. "Don't scare me, please. Please."
The box stayed where it was, but it radiated an energy of impatience, as if it might jump at you if you neglected it any longer.
“Fine,” you conceded, coming a bit closer. “A little romance would’ve been nice but…”
"Setting romantic atmosphere," a cheerful female voice said.
who the fuck who the fuck who the fuck
Alexa. 
Fucking smart home systems. The lights dimmed to a soft orange glow, the heavy curtains closed with a soft whoosh and a familiar tune echoed off the walls, the ballroom piano playing in the distance:
I put a spell on you
Because you're mine
The melody was familiar and so was the voice behind it - smooth, silky and oh so captivating (the adjectives you would use to describe it could fill many romance novels). A deep, rich baritone. You chuckled - had Raphael discovered blues? It suited him. 
You know I cannot stand it
You running around
You loved his interpretation of the song. It felt so intimate, him singing to you, so... very, very special. Your fear vanished in an instant; you poured yourself a glass of wine and took a luxurious sip.
"I'll put these on for you," you laughed, putting all the flirt you ever had in this laugh. "But don't expect me to call you 'Daddy'."
There was no protest; Raphael was too busy singing, pouring his entire soul into it. You made yourself busy too; stripping. You weren't very skilled (any skilled), but the thrill of being watched by him awakened something in you. You caught your reflection in the mirror and damn, you were hot. 
Shrugging off your shirt and sliding down your plain black briefs, you swayed your hips at your reflection as the wine worked its magic on your mind. For once in your life, you felt genuinely attractive; he made you feel genuinely attractive. The sexiest you'd ever been. 
Slipping into the silky red lace lingerie he had chosen for you (splurged on, because it was a La Perla) - you fastened the collar around your neck. A long golden chain dangled from it, wrapped twice around the hook and cascaded down your back. Then you put the mouse ears - not cartoonish, not Minnie Mouse ones, but real fur and incredibly lifelike - on your head like a headband. 
You looked like...well, precisely what your mother suspected you were doing to pay the bills. But at least high-end. Very high-end. The only thing worse than being an escort is being a cheap one.
But there was one more item left in the box.
"Ehh," you said at the sight of the mouse tail, especially the part that was meant to be inserted. "I'm going to need... I'm going to the bedroom."
It had been ages since your last foray into such play; back when you were with that boyfriend who constantly pestered you about anal and found it somehow arousing to "accidentally" (sure, mate) poke you and mumble an insincere "oops, wrong hole". 
You didn't stick around much longer after that.
Stretched out on Raphael's sumptuous bed, you slicked up everything - the plug, your pussy, your arse - with copious amounts of lube. First, some warming. So you began to rub yourself, two fingers finding their familiar way to your clit. You couldn't shake the crawling feeling of being watched, every inch of your body scrutinised by unseen eyes.
"Raphael," you called out into the empty room, desperate for some form of interaction or response. "I would love it if you would join me... or say something pleasant”.
Now would be the perfect time to call me a good girl.
But there was no response, just an eerie silence in the room. Feeling too naked and too slutty, you pulled the blanket over you, a makeshift barrier between you and his eyes. Under the fortification, tucking the tail in seemed less daunting.
Before you could get down to business, there was a jerk at the blanket, which fell to the cold floor, leaving you bare again. Then another tug on the chain attached to your collar, pulling you closer to the bedpost.
"I'm sorry," you gasped breathlessly, both hands instinctively reaching for your collar. "I won't hide."
The chain didn’t let go, making a point out of a slight pressure around your neck. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the task at hand, stroking your clit as you guided the plug inside you. 
You told yourself to relax and take it slow; just imagine it's Haarlep. How many times had you dreamed of being squeezed and stretched between the two of them? It was always Haarlep who took you from behind; it just seemed more their style.
The plug slid in deeper. It didn't hurt, and the little discomfort it caused added to the excitement. 
Damn, this is so dirty. 
"It's in," you said as the plug settled inside you. "All the way in. What's next?"
The words were barely out of your mouth when the golden chain, suddenly a snake-like lasso, wrapped tightly around your wrists.
Pulled them towards the bedpost, stretched out and bound tightly to either side. Fear gripped you and you clenched around the plug, pulling your knees tight together.
Tightly. Very tight. A little too tight. You tried to wriggle, the metal biting your skin; you could move your hips a little, but no more. 
You couldn't get out yourself, which was not good news when you were alone (well, almost) in a very big house. Your mind immediately thought of that girl in Gerald's Game.
"Raphael?" you asked. “It’s not that kind of game, is it? It’s a nice game? Can we play a nice game?”
He did not answer, but you heard footsteps. Footsteps coming down the long corridor. Confident, quick and very purposeful.
Stay calm, stay calm, it's him, it's him, who else could it be? Haarlep? The orthon? The driver? 
The door swung open.
It was Raphael, and he was visibly surprised to see you in this state, which was absolute bullshit considering he was responsible for tying you to this very bed. 
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, covering the distance to the bed in two strides. "What a welcome home surprise, piccola." 
Raphael gave you a lecherous, wet-lipped smile and knelt on the bed between your legs. There was something boyish about it, an expression you'd never seen in the game, as if he'd just found his first bike under the Christmas tree.
You searched for “piccola” earlier today: “baby” or “little girl” in Italian. 
"I'm not going to call you Daddy," you repeated, and Raphael shook his head and laughed, not seeming at all horrified at the thought (and he should be).
"I have some compelling evidence to the contrary, Daddy's little mouse," he teased, his fingers playing with your collar. 
"Anything but Daddy," you pleaded. "That's just... demeaning."
Weirdly incestual, too. You haven’t even seen the guy, not a photo, not a… (don’t think of him why the fuck would you think of the old bastard now).
“This is the whole appeal of it, is it not?”, he said. “How would you prefer to address me then?"
Raphael? Something told you that telling him that would make him very angry, and you weren't exactly in a position to want an angry man on top of you. Raul? No, that name just felt completely wrong and made you feel like you were in a Spanish soap opera. 
Raphael began to unbutton his shirt one button at a time, revealing a white undershirt, which he then took off. 
His physique was impressive for a man of his age; not those bodybuilder abs from bg3 but a well-toned body shaped by workouts and diets, which seemed to be very much at odds with his indulgent ways. Rough brown hair spread across his chest and lower abdomen against honey-tanned skin. Every inch of him seemed so put together, so perfectly groomed.
"Master," you finally decided (there was this one fanfic…) as you spread your legs wider in an invitation. 
"Master?" Raphael seemed amused, his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the fabric. "Such flattery. So this makes you my slave girl? Tied up and ready for me to use as I please?"
Reading Raphael say such things was one thing, but hearing him actually say them in real life made you feel embarrassed. It was a bit, ugh... 
“You get flustered easily for someone who waited for me dressed like this, little mouse,” Raphael raised an eyebrow at your see-through lace. “Topolina." 
He wrinkled his nose and laughed, as if the word was funnier in Italian, and poked the tips of your mouse ears. You wanted him so badly that your lips caught his as he came closer and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. He kissed your back, his hands moving up and down your body. 
"How the hell did you manage..." he mused aloud as he studied your bound wrists.
His fingers ventured between your legs, and the moment he stumbled upon your tail, his whole body twitched with excitement, his breath catching in his throat as he traced the soft fur to reach the base of the plug. 
The playful gleam in his eyes was replaced by an intense, wild desire.
"Merda," he breathed out. "Look at that. Aren't you a dirty little girl?"
You cringed at how pornographic the line sounded (his suddenly much thicker Italian accent didn't help), but Raphael seemed to find it excruciatingly erotic.
In one swift motion, he lunged forward and forced your legs apart, his hands pulling your knees towards your chest, folding you in until your muscles screamed in protest at the stretch. 
Without warning, he thrust deep inside of you. You gasped in surprise; no preliminaries, no foreplay, no taking it slowly, just raging, explosive lust.
Fortunately, your own fingers had done their job earlier, so despite the brutal force of his first thrust, pleasure surged through you, along with a sharp twinge of friction as his cock rubbed against the toy lodged inside you.
He seemed to relish the sensation and so did you. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as your body arched beneath him; stretched and pinned by his weight, trapped, surrendering to the relentless pounding that followed - raw and invasive and yet so fulfilling.
You were so looking forward to coming again from his penetration alone. The mere thought made you pull harder on your restraints, craving the delicious pain of being bound. The furry tail must have tickled his balls because he tucked it under you so that it would tease you instead. 
"Cross your ankles behind my back," Raphael rasped into your shoulder as he grazed it with his stubbled chin. "Yes, just like that... now tilt your hips."
You responded with your most submissive “yes, master”, making his cock twitch inside you, and then sifted your hips to better accommodate his pleasure. Wrapped your legs tightly around him, pulling him in deeper, pain-pleasure soaring through you. You sniffed his hair. 
His cologne (worn leather, cherry liqueur, bitter almonds) smelled so good oh so good.
He slid his arms underneath your arse, lifting you towards him at every thrust. 
Raphael said few words after that, grunting and thrusting and thrusting. Something about him was different this time - something very human - from how his sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead to his expressions of sheer lust that bordered on comical at times. 
One thing remained the same - the pleasure his pounding brought you, the familiar hooks of approaching orgasm - not any orgasm, the orgasm of being with him, his sharp talons - sinking inches deep into your flesh again. 
fuck does he feel good
rough or tender it just feels so good
his cock his tongue his breath on your neck
You screamed "fuck me", then once again, louder, not caring how obscene you sounded, and bit his shoulder without a second thought. 
The scream that escaped you was higher pitched than you had intended.
do whatever whatever you want whatever you want with me
Raphael's face creased with annoyance as his strong finger pressed into your cheek. "Easy…easy… piccola... I appreciate…. a good performance… not …overacting," he scolded as he went at you harder, pushing you to the point of pain.
hurt me
fuck me fuck me harder
You would have protested at the implication that you were pretending, but you were too busy coming under him, his hand clamped over your mouth before your temporal insanity could drive you to actually call him ‘daddy’.
If he wanted you to why wouldn’t you he is so sweet to you oh so sweet to you
The scream was swallowed by his palm as an orgasm, brutal in its intensity and lightning-fast, ripped through you, whip-snaked it. You greeted your release with a wail, biting into his hand. Raphael paused mid-thrust, apprehensive of how your pussy convulsed around him and your leg spasmed uncontrollably - if this was a performance, you deserved an award.
"You weren't pretending," he panted, awe-struck. "My apologies. You were not".
The realisation frenzied him; he spilled within a minute after, rutting into you with intensity belying his age. Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of you, his breath, cherries and tobacco, warming your throat as his cock softened within you.
"I may have gotten a little carried away," he said, sounding embarrassed and slightly apologetic as he lay down beside you. "But it seems you're more than content."
You eagerly and quickly nodded.
"Are you that... passionate with every man?" He asked as he helped you free your wrists - jealousy creeping into his voice at the mention of that mysterious 'every man'.
You couldn't help but laugh at the question. "No," you replied. "Far from it. You are not just any man. You are anything but."
Raphael let out a sigh of relief and kissed you, making no effort to hide how much your compliment pleased him. 
When you parted, you hopped awkwardly off the bed - the odd gait one adopts when they have a plug in them (no way were you going to remove it in his presence, no way) and cum was trickling down your thighs. 
Shit, the condom. Now you forgot to ask him to wear it.
Would he have?..
Ah, screw it. Google says Plan B is effective for up to 72 hours after unprotected sex, so you'll take it tomorrow - for tonight and last night. You'd never been this careless before, but hell, you'd never murdered people with a mere thought or slept with an Archdevil of Hell.
Raphael was still lying there, basking in the afterglow, when you returned.
"I have to admit, Anya... I'm seriously thinking of proposing," he murmured with such tenderness as you snuggled against him that you wondered if Raphael really was incapable of love.
"That would be quick," you replied, but made it sound like you wouldn't mind at all.
"Quick?" he scoffed. "A man knows what he wants in a woman the moment he sets eyes on her. Unfortunately, there are very few left in your generation."
You smiled, already dreaming of being the Archduchess of Hell, and half-dreaming in general from sheer exhaustion and satisfaction. 
"They lied about you being bad in bed," you murmured as sleep began to take over. "I knew it was all bullshit."
"They?" He asked, his face contorting into a scowl at your sentence. "Who are they? Anya, for God's sake, stop reading those trashy tabloids."
You closed your eyes for a moment. When you half-opened them, you saw him on the balcony outside, in a black silk robe, AirPods in his ears and a cigarette in his mouth. Behind him you could see the smoke and fire of the Avernus mountain ridge, the fireballs cascading down from the sky. Beautiful. 
Raphael gestured with his free hand, aggressively, and you listened a little closer; fortunately he was more than loud.
"...we will bleed them dry if they dare to break our agreement..."
"...they knowingly and willingly accepted our terms, they will choke on the consequences..."
"...all must pay their dues, sooner or later..."
"...an army? We have our own army..."
A yawn escaped your lips as you snuggled deeper into the plush pillows of the massive bed. Everything, except the AirPods, fit perfectly into the image of Archdevil Supreme.
You felt so chosen, so alive, so gloriously alive, and your life had just begun.
"Are you coming soon?" you called out as you tried to think of an appropriate nickname for him - something intimate, but not too cheesy. Darling? Baby? Sweetheart? Love? My favourite devil?
But he beat you to it before you could decide.
"Soon, my love. Rest," he blew you a kiss. With a loud click, he shut the glass door and cut you off from hearing the rest of their conversation. You let out a contented sigh and rolled over onto your side, drifting into a peaceful slumber.
"My love," you said in your sleep. "Raphael called me his love”.
****
The urgent need to go to pee woke you. The time was a mystery, but it must have been late enough for Raphael to have gone to bed too.
He was pressed close to you, his hand cupping your breast. You looked over your shoulder; asleep, peaceful, in buttoned pyjamas, and it was the one moment when he did not look threatening at all; vulnerable, if anything. You kissed him on the cheek and he smiled in his sleep and held you close. 
When you came back from your short (not really, a good thirty metres to the toilet) trip to the bathroom, you snuggled closer to him, preparing to doze off again, and then you heard something.
You listened closer, thinking you had dreamed it first.
Soft, gentle whimpers. You recognised the voice. You didn't know how, but you did. Something childishly cheerful and slightly mad about it.
Oh, no. No. You were happy, spooning with Raphael, and you didn't need this shit right now, especially when things were finally going so well.
Hope, please, you begged.
You got all your happy endings, so many of them, wonderful endings where Raphael was killed by the player and you got to live and your revenge and whatnot. Can I have one too, please? Without you whining and making me feel guilty for something I didn't even do?
"My love," you asked Raphael softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his side. "Can you let her go?"
"Mmm," Raphael murmured in his sleep, "Sure, piccola. Whatever you wish for."
You waited for him to act, but he only tightened his grip on the blanket and shifted slightly.
"You have all the hells and the crown and everything (and me). You don't need her anymore," you tried again. 
"Anya, let me sleep," Raphael mumbled into his pillow, away from your voice. You tried to hide from her voice under your pillow as well, but you could still hear the soft, painful moans. 
Ugh. 
They were very, very far away, but still there.
"She's still wailing," you complained, taking him by the shoulder and shaking him a little. "Raphael? Raphael?"
 "Who is wailing?” he groaned in pure frustration, and then made a half-hearted attempt at listening. “Ah, merda, not that bloody bitch again! I swear, I will plug that hole myself!"
You tried to make sense of that sentence and couldn't, but what you did get was that it promised Hope nothing good and sounded vaguely vulgar, which was even worse. 
"Don't hurt Hope," you begged, appalled by his threat. "She doesn't deserve it!"
"I don't deserve it either," Raphael retorted before turning away from you. "Please be quiet."
He should direct this request to his prisoner. 
What had really happened between them? You didn't think his obsession with Hope was sexual because, well, because, for example, he fucked you and you both enjoyed it, so he was definitely into consent, and Hope was more like a metaphor, a concept, a point to be made, and some shitty fucking rushed Act 3 writing.
"You... you didn't hurt her like that, did you? There was some talk... With that boudoir line... It was misinterpreted... right?"
Right. He may be evil, but he is lawful evil. He believed in consent and seduction, not violence. 
"I haven't hurt anyone, what in damnation are you talking about?" he growled through gritted teeth, and you let out a small sigh of relief.  "But if I don't get some rest, I might."
He hadn't hurt Hope. He wouldn't lie. He cannot; devils can deceive, but not outright lie. You read it somewhere.
Okay, he's not going to let her go and he's not going to help you and Hope was certainly not going to shut up. You have to go to her. And say what? Say what? Sorry for your predicament and the centuries of torture, Hope, but could you please be a bit quieter, me and Raphael just had sex and are trying to sleep? 
Let her go? And lose his favour, his credit card and the place next to him in his bed?
Yes, come on. It would be the right thing to do and you would do it. 
Where was she anyway, you wondered as you walked down the stairs. In the cellar? Hanging from the ceiling? You still don't have the key to the cellar. When you reached the ground floor, the kitchen, you realised that the noises were not coming from the cellar - they were coming from outside.
Outside? Did he hang her on a tree on this cold April night? 
You put on his trench coat and slipped into your sneakers. This was so unnecessarily evil, you thought, suddenly feeling much less happy about everything, especially as the pained whimpering got closer. Hardly human, you thought, more like a creature trapped and desperately trying to free itself. 
Yes, definitely more of a creature.
In fact, it reminded you of a dog. You searched the darkness of the night, determined to find it, and there it was: a dachshund wedged between the ground and a large, weathered fence, whimpering into the still night. 
The poor thing must have thought it was quite the burglar, trying to burrow under a hole in the fence to pull through. But it only managed to get itself stuck.
"Oh, poor baby," you said as you approached the dog. "Let's see if we can get you out."
You pulled on the fence to widen the opening and the cub was free.
It licked your hand in gratitude. Dogs love you. All animals do, and it's quite mutual. You had a harder time with people.
There were distant, panicked cries for Steffie somewhere in the distance; the owner was out on a rescue mission. You took the dachshund in your lap and went to meet her.
The woman was in her sixties, dark brown hair, a very aged beauty, and she looked a bit funny in her fur coat and slippers. She had tears in her eyes. Steffie ran to her as soon as she saw her.
"You silly little girl," she scolded the whining, complaining dog in her arms. She had a thick American drawl. "Why do you keep going back to his house? What's so special about him? I told you he was bad news!"
"Is he?" You asked the question when you knew the answer.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, forcing a smile to her lips. "I didn't mean it like that. You're Raul's new girl, aren't you? Samantha. I live down the road. Sorry about Steffie, she's very... adventurous."
There were exactly three houses on the street, a mile apart each.
"You meant it like that," you said. "If it's about Isabelle, she's apologised and withdrawn her accusations".
There was a pause, and Samantha's perfectly friendly smile cracked a little.
"Well, in that case," she said, before adding with forced cheerfulness, "thank you for looking after Steffie, sweetheart! You take care now."
She tried to walk away, but turned back; she was as curious as her little dog.
"I was walking Steffie when that French girl ran out of his house," she said, unable to resist the urge to gossip. "She was naked and babbling like a lunatic. She had blood on her, too".
"Did she scream something about the devil?" you asked after a pause.
"Devil? No. Not that I speak French," said the woman, making a last attempt to walk away, but failing. "Listen, I have a daughter about your age. And if some guy - ANY guy - tried to put that kind of crap around her neck, I would chop his arms off".
What did she mean? 
The collar. 
She meant the "Daddy's little mouse" collar you still have around your neck. 
Oh, don't kink shame me, you were going to say, but that kind of talk sounds ridiculous in real life. She managed to shame you very badly, so you hid the collar under your trench coat and mumbled, "I put it on myself".
That actually made her look at you again. Steffie looked at you with the same expression. 
Everybody's out to guilt trip you - Hope, the dog (the dog you saved!), the neighbour, the guy who got thrown under the bus, and you've done nothing but enjoy some devil sex.
The woman finally decided it was time to go, muttering "You need Jesus, sweetheart" before she left.
That's your God who kept women in collars and on leashes for centuries, not the Devil, you thought bitterly, and unlike the Devil, he didn't even fuck them. 
Well, only once.
***
You were back in the en-suite bathroom, washing your face in the marble sink.
Who the fuck was this man, really? What the fuck was happening? 
Your hand shot out, yanking open a cabinet door. An array of men's grooming products stared back at you - cologne, razor, facial moisturiser and scrub, deodorant, shaving gel, sleek, expensive bottles. A man took care of his looks.
Another cabinet creaked open under your touch. 
Your eyes darted to the label on the bottle - Risperidon. You had no idea what it was, but you memorised it for a future Google search, repeating it under your breath like a mantra. 
"Are you rummaging through my belongings, nosy little mouse?”
He was dead asleep last time you checked!
You jerked, closing the cupboard and stumbling back to the bathroom sink, gasping for breath. "No," you stammered, turning to find him standing in the doorway. "I mean... yes. I can't sleep. I thought you might have some pills."
His eyes were canny; he didn't swallow your lie and made no pretence of doing so. He bridged the gap and hugged you from behind - frighteningly strong and wanting every ounce of that power to seep into your bones. His strength made you realise just how much of a level 1 human NPC you were.
"You don't have to violate my privacy when I'm not around, Anya," he whispered against your skin as he began to trail soft kisses down your neck. "If there's anything that's bothering you, just ask me directly. I want us to be honest with each other."
What was in the cellar? What kind of work does he do for you? Did he rape Hope? Or was it Haarlep? Where is Haarlep, by the way? Why does Raphael want to play Raul? 
"What happened to Isabelle?" you asked. 
"Ah, I see. Is that why you asked me if I had hurt anyone?" he said. "Is that what the tabloids told you?"
You nodded.
"Isabelle had an addiction," he admitted, the crow’s feet showing themselves. "It spiralled out of control. She had… a bout of psychosis, a mental breakdown. Made false accusations to the press. She's now getting the help she needs, poor girl”.
"Why was she covered in blood?" you pressed, looking at his reflection in the mirror as an infernal light danced in his orange eyes.
For all the fire in them, they seemed icy, impossibly cold for a man who had called you my love less than an hour ago. "How did you come by this information? You seem to know more than one would expect of you, Anya. There are things about you that make me... wonder. I have been giving you the benefit of the doubt, perhaps foolishly."
Your breath caught in your throat. “The neighbour”, you said. “Your neighbour told me”.
The truth you’d spilled slaked him, but only a little. He looked at you, jaw hardened.
"Samantha? I’ll have a word with her. Very well, we were making love when Isabelle had a psychotic episode."
Making love? Really? He did not make love to you.
"She lashed out at me," he continued. "It was my blood, Anya. I would never hurt her or any other woman. Without their consent, that is."
But that couldn't be true, because there was Hope - and many others who owed him, and Raphael might have been many things, but not a liar, and yet here he was, lying right to your face.
He did hurt people. Whether they deserved it, whether they brought onto themselves, that was a different matter, but he did hurt them.
"If you need proof, you can take a look at the psychiatrist's report," he offered coldly. "The authorities got involved... unfortunately."
"I believe you," came your shaky reply. 
You desperately wanted to. 
Raphael’s eyes flickered.
"Trust goes both ways, Anya," he whispered in your ear, running a finger along your collar. "If you do not trust me, then I will be forced to ask some very unpleasant questions myself. Do we understand each other?"
Which questions? He knows everything there is to know about you. He knows your browser history.
“We do”, you said, still looking in the mirror. “Of course we do, my love”.
"Is that so?” he smiled. "I suggest we go to our bed and put that theory to the test."
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anthonysalazar · 3 months
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rating the (canon) buffyverse ships based on how much i like them
angel + buffy (7/10) i think it's okay for what it is, but buffy clearly outgrows him in the end but omg that i will always remember you episode on ats is so tragic and made me appreciate them sm more
spike + buffy (9/10) OMG THE SCENE OF THEM IN SEASON 7 WHERE SPIKE SAYS HE LOVES HER NOT BECAUSE OF WHAT SHE DOES OR BECAUSE HE'S GETTING ANYTHING IN RETURN BUT BECAUSE OF WHO SHE IS AND WHAT SHE IS IS SO. i love them together omg.
riley + buffy (6/10) i don't like hate them? riley had sm potential as a character and as a boyfriend but good lord did they handle him badly. they could've made him a cute golden retriever boyfriend for buffy but instead they made him toxic masculinity TM. season 4 riley is enjoyable though, just once you get to season 5 he becomes annoying and pretty unbearable
willow + oz (8/10) SO CUTE!! i will always be mad that they wrote willow as a complete lesbian, as i know sexuality is fluid but her romance with both oz and tara read more as a bisexual woman rather than a lesbian. i wish oz had stayed on the show longer though as he was amazing, not just as willow's love interest. i love you forever oz
willow + tara (9/10)
i love them so so so so much my fav sapphic lovers. tara is my favorite buffyverse character besides buffy herself and seeing her character growth that came from willow's open support and friendship that blossomed into a romance was one of the greatest romance arcs on television i love them sm. willow's magic addiction is weird though in season 6 and weighs on their relationship a bit but in the end i love them
willow + kennedy (1/10) ew. i don't have to explain myself just ew.
willow + xander (1/10) no. no no no no no.
xander + cordelia (3/10) ew no, i will forever hate xander harris and pairing my girl cordy with him will forever make me mad AND THEN HE CHEATS ON HER???? vile.
xander + anya (6/10) i actually don't hate them sometimes, but it infuriated how often he undermined her when she was one of the most knowledgeable characters in the buffyverse on history with magic and etc. their little arc during once more with feeling made me like them a lot more though
spike + anya (5/10) i don't take it seriously as a ship but it was so funny when it did happen and i love it for that
cordelia + angel (8/10) SUCH A BETTER PAIRING FOR THESE CHARACTERS THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN THE ENDGAME!
giles + jenny (9/10) SO CUTE. THE TRAGEDY OMG I SOBBED SO HARD WHEN JENNY DIED I MISS YOU SM. the pining, the difference in technology vs physical information, etc. their dynamic was adorable and i'll always miss her sm
buffy + robin (4/10) very short lived and fizzled out so fast that it barely counts, i like robin alot though and wish he was given more to do as i found him interesting
drusilla + spike (7/10) i kinda love their devotion to each other even if it was extremely unhealthy, aesthetically also a very sexy ship and i love them for that
angel + darla (8/10) darla is one of the most underrated buffyverse characters and her arc in ats made her so so so fascinating that i am partially giving it such a high score because of my fascination with darla
fred + gunn (9/10) so cute!! i love them so much and it was so wholesome
fred + wesley (6/10) good amount of pining i guess? i don't have much to say about it but it was enjoyable enough
doyle + cordelia (7/10) so cute also!! i wish doyle had stayed around longer as i loved him lots
wesley + cordelia (3/10) ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. SHE WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL DUDE IDC SO GROSS
wesley + lilah (7/10) in terms of functionality, not the best, BUT in terms of my fascination, very very high up omg
harmony + spike (4/10) also kinda a crack ship but it was funny while it lasted, harm deserved better though
(i think i covered them all but if there's more i'll update this)
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manias-wordcount · 5 months
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Okay so this scenario came in my mind and just HAD to tell you
Yor with gram(olka's kid) was so precious and I wanted more of them! Imagine yor with a baby(could be literally anyone's) and just holding him/her for a while (my personal hc is that the babies/kids love her!) Twilight sees this and feels VERY guilty because he's keeping yor from experiencing true married life.(the kids she could someday have, the sex, the intimacy etc) Basically guilt and angst!!!
Yor and Loid HCs (Yor Forger, Loid Forger)
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲, 𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲. 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗹
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧���𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
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He knows he’s been letting his feelings slip as these past few weeks
After all, he’s been feeling incredibly close to Yor and Anya- like a father would
Almost like he’s actually been yearning for domestic life
But as Twilight, he knows it’s not that simple
Even if knew how to get out- he knows he can never get out
And right now he needs to play family with Yor and Anya but…
Seeing how gentle Yor was with that baby reminded him that Yor doesn’t deserve this-
She was a woman desperate to marry and he was a man who took advantage of that
She’s happy, sure but now but life is far too short to waste it on someone who doesn’t even kiss you
So the more and more as he looks at her, cradling that child and being such a good mother to Anya…
…the more he realizes that it was a mistake to choose someone so perfect and to take away a future they truly deserve
But he needs her to make this work
So he’ll keep using her for now, and he’ll try not to think about it too much as he lies awake on sleepless nights
Wondering if he should ever invite her to sleep beside him
And wondering if a woman like her could ever accept a man like him
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mdshh · 7 months
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Completely unexpected Anya saw Sebastian again. At first she couldn’t tell what she felt: shock, fear, relieve, hope? Maybe all of it. One thing is certain - none of them ever wants to part ways again
*Knoch knoch*
Anya: Coming!
Anya: Ah…
Sebastian: Oh, Anya… Don’t you dare do this ever again! I thought you cared about me, but then just disappeared like that.
Anya: Tian, I -
Stephen: Mommy?
Sebastian: [In shock] Who… Don’t tell me you hid our son from me, Anya.
Anya: No, I -
Sebastian: The truth, Anya. Don’t you think I deserve at least that?
Anya: [Sighs] Yes, this is Stephen, our son. Don’t look at me like that, I had my reasons.
Sebastian: [Rising his voice a little] What reasons could you possibly have for that? Enlighten me.
Anya: [Keeps silent]
Sebastian: Let me get this straight. You hid your pregnancy, moved, left no trace, wasn’t planning on telling me the truth and now have nothing to say.
Anya: I just wanted you to finish university and not to worry about an unwanted pregnancy… Besides, we were doing fine in our own.
Sebastian: Oh, Anya… a child with you can never be unwanted, you don’t get to decide that. And you are more important to me than you can imagine, much more important than any university in the world.
Sebastian: I love you, Anya. Don’t you dare disappear out of my life like this ever again.
Anya: I’m so so sorry, Tian. I love you and I won’t do this again. That’s a promise.
Sebastian: Good.
Sebastian: Hey. little buddy. Did you miss your daddy?
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vmpire-blood · 5 months
Text
𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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✧ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
♰ my name is Anya. (s-her)
♰ i’m 20y and relapsing in my eating disorder. currently living in Netherlands.
♰ this is my personal blog focused on eating disorders. there are many sensitive topics here who may be triggering, feel free to block me but please do not report.
♰ i won’t follow back: minors (below 17), g0re, dr*gs accounts, ana coaches or rude ppl. besides that: let’s be mutuals <3
♰ i do support recovery. do therapy and seek out a nutritionist – it works and you deserve to get the body that you want without demanding your health. i’m here to drop my thoughts and trigger myself. exclusively.
♰ i’m not a native english speaker, thought that i could use this blog to practice, feel free to correct me. do not curse, there’s no need for that – i’m learning.
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✧ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬
✦ SW: 103kg (03/22/24)
✦ CW: 92,2 (updated daily)
✦ LW: 48kg
✦ GW: 43kg
✦ H: 1,56m
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here’s some extra information and my personal tags below (i use one of them in every post to divide it)
#anya.diaries ♱ = daily progress or just daily observations.
#anya.vent ♱ = venting about any subject (may be triggering)
#anya.diet ♱ = weekly diet tracking, fasting logs…
#anya.inspos ♱ = th1nsp0$ or things that triggers me.
#anya.random ♱ = just random posts, normally kinda funny, sometimes not disorder related.
#anya.mood ♱ = cute th1n$p0 moodboads i make sometimes
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oozeyboozey · 20 days
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CLOSED  STARTER.    ─    STARTER  CALL.    ─    @chngluiahfnah.
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lazy  days  were  always  nice ... but  the  evening  after  a  mission  gone  right  and  getting  to  come  home  in  time  to  make  dinner , and  spend  some  quality  time  with  their  partner  in  both  crime  and  life ... that  was  always  something  anya  found  to  be  absolute  heaven.  she  couldn't  quite  explain  it  either.  maybe  it  was  the  come  down  after  being  so  pumped  while  on  the  hunt , but  she  also  realized  she  was  actually  more  capable  of  being  able  to  relax  period  when  she  had  freshly  gotten  home  from  a  mission.  unlike  most  people  who  had  their  job ... anya  liked  what  she  did.  she  was  good  at  what  she  did , and  it  did  seem  to  scratch  an  itch  she  could  never  fully  ignore , no  matter  how  much  she  tried  to.  plus , now  that  she  was  the  one  holding  her  leash , she  could  pick  the  hits  she  took , and  when.  which  meant  being  able  to  prevent  killing  the  wrong  people.
anya  was  under  the  firm  belief  that  some  people  just  flat  out  didn't  deserve  to  keep  breathing.  but  those  were  people  like  fascists.  people  he  didn't  consider  human.
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"  i'm  thinkin  tochitură  for  dinner.  "    she  called  over  her  shoulder  as  they  walked  into  the  shared  home.  dropping  the  large  bag  of  weapons  by  the  door  to  clean  later , treating  like  her  god  damn  purse.  she'd  get  to  them  later.  she  always  did.  it  was  part  of  her  system  she  went  through  every  time.  nobody  touched  her  weapons , besides  her  dad  sometimes.  so  she  always  cleaned  them  herself , and  it  always  happened  after  food.
"  and  theen ,  "    she  trailed  of  in  almost  a  sing  song  type  of  way , having  reached  the  wine  storage  unit  they  installed , pulling  out  a  bottle  and  holding  it  up  to  her  to  see.    "  i'm  thinking  dinner  on  the  couch  and  binge  watch  somethin  we're  behind  on??  "    something  about  lounging  in  the  most  mundane  way  possible  and  watching  tv  until  they  had  to  stumble  to  bed  in  the  late  hours  of  the  night  sounded  like  the  perfect  ending  for  a  job  well  done.
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this-thing-saved-me · 4 months
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This Show Saved Me - BTVS 7x22
7x22 Chosen
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I will never not find it funny that to stream Buffy I have to go to Disney+. Or the fact that the most recent episode I’d watched (whenever that was) was this one. Since I’m pretty sure I left my rewatch mid-season 3.
But that’s the thing about this particular episode. It’s practically a perfect finale. And felt like the right place to start, because who says everything should happen in order. That’s not always how life works. 
THERE WILL LIKELY BE ABUNDANT SPOILERS FOR A FINALE THAT AIRED OVER TWENTY YEARS AGO. There, that was your warning. And now for some Cole's notes “Story so far.”
Okay, so Buffy’s been through it by this point. The First has annihilated her self-confidence and Caleb has been on the warpath. Spike has told her she’s the one (!!!), whether she fully believes in herself yet or not. (SIDENOTE: yes, I ship Spuffy. Yes, there are very, very valid reasons not to. However I am a big fan of redemption arcs and where they land by the end of the comics feels like as healthy a place as possible with a very real love.)
And Angel shows up trying to be all tall-dark and forehead. Which I get, he’s Angel, he needs to be in the finale. But ultimately he's a delivery boy and he didn’t need to do it in person other than to prompt the first on my list of loves for this episode. 
Which is what I lovingly refer to as the "Cookie Speech." Buffy knows she has more growing to do and she’s self-aware enough to share that with the first love of her life. She’s come a long way from the season of post-resurrection depression, but she’s still not quite ready for what Angel might like her to be (granted he’s JUST lost Cordelia so the fact that he is back at Buffy’s door is a rant for another post.) The idea that things aren’t working for her romantically because she’s not done baking. She hasn’t figured out all that she wants to be. While I love love LOVE this analogy, I wonder if there’s ever really a time in our lives where we are done baking? Besides the end of course. We’re supposed to evolve. We’re supposed to grow.
Spike is her Champion, not Angel. They’ve seen the best and the worst of each other, remember? He knows she needs someone strong, someone with a soul, and despite the bad, she knows he’s earned the right to the title through growing and atoning. Motivated people can change, and that’s something I believe that Spike has shown.
“He had to split” - the joke is LHF and I love it. Does its utterance deserve a place on this list? Yes. Because it's very me-coded. I’d have a very hard time not making the same joke if I had just rendered a man from stem to stern. But I digress. This episode is serious and still silly. It’s the epitome of BTVS episodes. I mean Spike waking from a dream yelling “I’m drowning in Cool Whip,” come on. It’s akin to “the cheese wears me” in off kilter nonsense. Plus Anya later finding her strength in her hatred for "floppy, hoppy bunnies" will never not kill me. (Or her, again spoiler.) I adore Emma Caufield.
Willow is afraid to use magic because of her history with the darkness. Not knowing if she’s stable enough. I can identify with her at this moment after clawing back from my own mental health blip a couple years ago. She went dark. (I went, arguably, nuts) She’s regained her balance but how secure? It’s going to turn out to be really secure because “Oh my goddess” she’s got this. AND…
The fact that Kennedy is there for Willow to help keep her grounded. Her very presence supports Willow but isn’t the deciding factor for victory. Willow needs to believe in herself that she won’t go back over that edge. She touched the darkness and it freaked her the f out. (Once she came back down from the overwhelm and shock of her grief.) I lived in that fear for a long time. And I’m grateful for the grounding I’ve found outside of the support of others, but within myself.
Just for fun, let’s chat about the DND session. Even the scoobies needed to disassociate before the big thing. And self-permission to have fun during challenging times is key. It can’t all be doom and gloom. Sometimes you recharge that nervous energy through Trogdor the Burninator references and that’s more than okay.
Ultimately we have the’ shared power’ speech. “Here’s the part where you make a choice” more specifically. Because they could easily choose to let the First and its legions overwhelm the world and finally be the apocalypse they couldn’t handle. It’s easier to stay down. It’s easier to say I can’t. But where does that get you? Making that choice to take your power back and say I am more than what wants to overwhelm me is a beautiful moment. This moment, where all the Potentials get their piece of the power pie is tremendously moving. I get shivers just thinking about it. Male or female, we don’t need the permission of Slayer power to take back our own. To say ‘no more’ and get back up off the ground. (Although Slayer strength would be badass, let’s be real.)
The bottom line, this episode epitomises what I love about Buffy and the Whedon-verse. Real characters in a fantastic world who battle larger than life caricatures of the demons we fight in our daily lives. This show saved me in a lot of ways. My very first boyfriend got me to watch it back in 2005, which he may have regretted as it CONSUMED my brain for most of grade 12. It was the perfect time for me to experience this show. I credit it for helping me find my voice offline. I was always a nose-in-a-book girl or heavily distracted with FanFiction. I was one of the quietest in my friend group, not really feeling like there was a value to what I had to say. The message that we can choose to be strong and fight back? That’s one that I’ll eternally be grateful for and will carry with me, always. What’s your favourite episode? And why is it “Once More With Feeling”? ;)
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(Honourable mention goes to this eye contact where my headcanon is convinced he sees she really does love him despite him telling her otherwise seconds before. THOSE SMG EYES! I can't.)
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alicent-vi-britannia · 9 months
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5 reasons why Kagino doesn't work (and 3 reasons why Kalulu does)
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I was planning to prepare the small analysis of the final scene of the last episode of the first season, but, given the latest events that have occurred on my other Code Geass page, I decided to postpone it and work on a publication that I had planned for the future: explaining why Kagino is the most forced ship in Code Geass, besides Lelouch and CC in the infamous movie Lelouch of the Aberration (you will know it as Lelouch of the Resurrection). Also why Kagino is one of the worst ships in Code Geass. Please note that I use the term ship because this is a fandom pairing. Gino was never a love interest for Kallen and vice versa, according to official material (including the series).
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1.It's a forced ship. This ship was invented by the Newtype magazine, which was ProCluClu, after they tried to do the same with Xingke and the ship had no support. What is the need to promote this ship? Kallen was becoming too close to Lelouch for the liking of CluClu fans, so it had to get her rival out of the way, and what better way for her heart to have an owner other than Lelouch? Actually, there could be other ways, but even the CluClu shippers saw the chemistry and sexual tension between Lelouch and Kallen. She was a threat, from their point of view. I have emphasized this because ""coincidentally"" the CluClu shippers are the only ones who pair Kallen with Gino (yes, I'm seeing that they are realizing that they are losing credibility due to their bias, so they are trying to hide what they are pretending they are Shirlulu or Kalulu shippers; they clearly don't understand what they are doing wrong, right?). The other 0.0002% are people who ship them because they believe that CluClu is canon and Kallen is alone and deserves someone to take care of her heart, but, as Miley Cyrus said in her powerful song, Kallen can buy herself flowers, ask herself to dance, telling herself things that only she understands, holding her own hand and loving herself and being happy.
Kallen is a romantic interest of Lelouch. You can see their relationship develop and take on a romantic nature as the episodes go by in R2. There is a narrative construction. Unfortunately, I won't be able to track their relationship here since that requires a separate analysis.
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2. The "other reasons" that accompany this ship are superficial. The ship background that I expressed above is the real reason. There are no other compelling reasons to pair Kallen and Gino apart from the fact that they are both handsome, the same age, they exchanged a few words, and they are Knightmares pilots. Still, for CluClu shippers, those reasons are enough to prove that they are "soulmates." It's complete nonsense. You have work colleagues or study partners and your mother or your friends or your teacher or your boss aren't matching you with any of them, right? Furthermore, Suzaku also meets these requirements and no one is pairing him with Kallen (for the record, I find this ship interesting; but I don't think it works in the context of the series either).
My point is that just because two people are contemporary, attractive and (more or less) doing the same job doesn't mean that they are each other's ideal partner or that love will arise between them. Love is a spontaneous and free thing, which brings me to my next point…
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3. Gino and Kallen have no romantic attraction for each other or sexual tension. The biggest "evidence" there is in favor of this ship and surely what started this nonsense was a comment Gino makes in episode 9. But, far from demonstrating a romantic interest or sexual attraction for Kallen, it shows that the fandom has problems of reading comprehension. Let's see, read the comment: "Anya: This is the ace of the Black Knights. The pilot of the Guren. Gino: Yes, the one from before. She is much prettier than the wanted poster of her. "That's my kind of woman!" What does this tell us? 1. That Gino recognizes that Kallen is pretty. 2. That the type of women Gino is attracted to are pretty. There is a big difference between "I like women like you" and "I like you." Just because you appreciate a person's beauty doesn't automatically mean that you like him, that is orthodox and childish thinking (this makes me think of men with fragile masculinity who refuse to admit that another man seems handsome to them because they think they would look like homosexuals and they have been made to believe that masculinity and homosexuality don't go together). Even more important is Kallen's reaction, when he makes the comment: she just turns away. She doesn't smile or blush. Zero interest.
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This is very different from what happens between Lelouch and Kallen. She does react to Lelouch's comments, no matter how minor they may be. Like this double entender in episode 5. "Kallen: Are you talking like Zero or Lelouch right now? Lelouch: It's not like everyone knows about our relationship, right? Kallen * blushes *: Stop saying weird things like that, okay?"
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Just a few days ago I read a phrase on Twitter (or X) that said that the moment preceding the kiss was even more valuable than the kiss itself. That's where you find the so-called sexual tension and Lelouch and Kallen had two moments like that. Three, if you want to tell the dialogue that preceded the kiss in episode 22. I will go into more detail about the kiss and the two almost kisses of Lelouch and Kallen the day I'm going to talk about those things from theory. In fact, I don't want to stop to examine the romantic relationship between Lelouch and Kallen like I said.
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Gino and Kallen never flirted or had intimate moments. At most, they only poked each other in the last Picture Drama, but it was a display of friendly rivalry. No other thing. Pretending that that never happened, there is one moment in particular that I want us to review, as I consider it crucial to explain why this ship doesn't work:
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4. Gino didn't accept Kallen because of who she is. At some point in episode 17, Gino is looking for Suzaku and went to visit Kallen in her cell believing he was there. Instead of leaving, he shows her the photo album he was originally going to show Suzaku and they start talking about him (did I tell you that it makes more sense that Gino would be more romantically interested in Suzaku than in Kallen? I'll tell you again, so). The conversation changes and Gino starts talking about Kallen.
"Gino: I understand that you are half Britannian and half Japanese, right? If you chose the name Stadtfeld instead of Kouzuki, you could have a good life, right? Even become one of the Knights of the Round if you have such ambitions. Kallen: Is this going anywhere? Gino: What I mean is, wouldn't you like to come back to us, Kallen?" What is wrong here? That Gino doesn't understand nor is interested in understanding why Kallen chose to embrace the cause of the Japanese and the Black Knights. Instead, Gino brazenly advises her to abandon everything and join them since life is much more comfortable fighting on Britannia's side (this is the kind of flippant comment that comes from the mouth of a person who is in a position of privilege, if you ask me).
Gino doesn't realize that Kallen's motivations for fighting are tied to her principles and ideals. Therefore, this is like asking Kallen to give up who she is: an ally of justice, a patriotic woman, and a defender of freedom. This reflects a clear disinterest on Gino's part and this is a problem because you can't love someone without knowing them and accepting them for who they are.
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This is in stark contrast to Lelouch. While Gino asks Kallen to turn her back on her beliefs, her values, and the people she cares about (the Japanese and her family), Lelouch prefers to push Kallen away from him rather than force her to give up her principles and her life for him because, for Lelouch, Kallen's well-being and integrity are much more important than being together. This is the true definition of love.
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5. Gino and Kallen don't share principles. A couple doesn't have to be two conjoined twins. They may have different tastes, ways of thinking, preferences, interests, hobbies… If they truly love each other, they will learn to adapt to each other because one doesn't really change who they are for another person. But a couple needs to have, at least, the same values, ideals and life plans (I would add, also certain beliefs). Otherwise, it will be difficult for this relationship to prosper.
Gino is a Knight of the Round and has been an active collaborator in the conquest and colonization of independent nations. He clearly agrees with Britannia's expansionist policy. He has no problem with imperialism or colonialism. Kallen, on the other hand, belongs to the largest insurgent group fighting against Britannia and fighting in the name of freedom, justice and equality. She detests colonialism and imperialism due to her own experience, so she disagrees with expansionism. These discrepancies would prevent Gino and Kallen from having anything (that is, they wouldn't even have been friends).
Only Gino showed some empathy with Kallen, when Lelouch killed the Emperor and usurped the throne, claiming that he finally understood what it feels like to have another come to take power illegitimately and arbitrarily. However, a coup d'état is not the same as colonialism and, of course, this doesn't mean that Gino will change his principles. Only he's going to have a just reason to fight (finally). It would have been better if Gino had apologized to Kallen, but that was an act that required a great deal of effort.
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Lelouch, for his part, is a rebel at heart like Kallen. He may have lied about many things, but he genuinely believes in the ideals that he has preached as Zero and Kallen welcomed them as her own because they fit her values, which are no different from Lelouch's. It's not a coincidence. There is a small parallel between the dramatic situation of the Japanese and that of Lelouch and Nunnally. They were all dispossessed of what they had, including their identity, and forced to live as strangers in their land. Therefore, Lelouch and Kallen are more compatible. Even if they hadn't met in Shijunku, sooner or later their paths would cross over their hatred of Britannia, their contempt for the empire's Social Darwinist ideology, and their desire to change the world (well, this desire would germinate in Kallen once she met to Lelouch who, in turn, would obtain it as soon as he received the Geass).
The same can be said about Lelouch's other ships, by the way. Shirley wants to be a loving wife and have a happy family, CC wants to die (at the end of the series, she is focused on living every small moment of her life to the fullest just like Jamie Foxx's character in Soul) and Suzaku wants to change.the system from within. I won't enter the swampy terrain of reviewing the ideals and values of these characters. It's not my goal.
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In conclusion, Gino and Kallen don't stick with glue or tape. Lelouch is emerging as a more worthy suitor, despite everything. And, therefore, Karen-chan only has eyes for him. Kalulu is better.
PS: of course, a fanfic could correct all of these things. But I don't think it even exists and I'm focusing only on the series, too.
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merlot-and-chardonnay · 8 months
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Seeing You Again- Eskel
You can imagine any version of Eskel for this, I think this'll work either way.
The reader lives in Novigrad (which has always struck me as the New York of the Witcher World), and runs into Eskel who doesn't recognize her right away because she look very different from when he last saw her. Read more to find out.
Mentions of prostitution, and sex worker harassment with a side of transphobia (nobody gets hurt though). Enjoy. 
It was nighttime in Novigrad. You strolled by the docks, sack of coins in hand from a contract you just completed outside the city. It was a simple job, taking out a couple ekimaras, which was interesting given that vampires usually were solitary and hunted alone. You could've asked for double, but knew it wouldn't be worth the hassle...or harassment for that matter on account that your clients wouldn't believe a woman could take on two ekimaras at the same time.
Even if you were a witcher.
You passed by Crippled Kate's brothel when you saw several drunk men harass a couple of the girls outside. You recognized the girls; one was an elf, the other half-elf, both you considered friends who took you in when you first came to this city and introduced you to their world.
You sigh and shake your head before you approach the angry men, "leave those ladies alone," you warn. "Pfft, these look like ladies to you?" one man slurs, "these is she-elves. Not even she-elves, just elven cocks in frocks. That one there," he points to the half-elf, "tried tricking the poor lad here into thinking it got what he wanted." You breathe in, really containing yourself from slicing these men in half with your sword, "as I said before, leave them alone. Final warning." "What do you care about these freaks?" the other man scoffs before looking you up and down, "unless yous one of them." "I say it is," the first man says in agreement, "nice tits for a lad. You trying to play knight for these freaks? You got a hard on for them?"
You narrow your gaze at these bigoted men and wave your hand, casting the Axii sign on them, "I think you've had way too much to drink," you say in a low tone, "say your sorry, go home, and sleep it off." "Uh, yes, of course," one man says before turning to the elves, "sorry girls, we didn't mean to upset you. Honest mistake, we'll...be going now. Come on, lads."
Once the men left, you turn to half-elf Lana, and elf Anya, "you two okay?" you ask with concern. "We'll be alright now," Anya answers, comforting Lana who had tears in her eyes, "you should've stabbed those brutes through the hearts, maybe slice their heads off while you were at it." "Much as I would've wanted to, we both know who would end up getting in trouble with the soldiers and the Temple Guard," you sigh, "besides what good would it do, more would only take their place." "Three less of them, that's the way I see it," Anya scoffs.
 "They didn't hurt you did they?" you ask. "No, not at all," Anya assures, shaking her head, "though Lana here, only thing that's hurt is her heart." "Oh, Lana, what happened?" you ask the half-elf. Lana wiped the tears from her eyes as she answered, "I...I thought he was the one. The young man the others two accused me of 'tricking'. I didn't trick him, he knew who I was." "Let me guess, when his social circle found out, he was too much of a coward to stand up for you," you summarize.  "He was kind to me when we were together," Lana continues, "I...I thought he was different. I thought he was my Prince Charming." "Oh, child," Anya shakes her head in sadness, "I've told you before, there's a reason Prince Charming is only a fairy tale, a tale made up by humans no less." "You can't blame her for wanting to find love," you point out to the elf, "isn't that what we all deserve?" "Maybe so," Anya agrees, "but that doesn't mean the rest of the world sees it that way. *sigh* things haven't been getting harder for people like us, in case you haven't noticed."
"Is that why you were here at Crippled Kate's tonight?" you ask, "I though you and Lana were working as dancers at the Rosemary and Thyme." "And we are," Anya nods, "but times haven been tough, we need to make ends meet. You at least have the privilege of passing as human." "I don't pass completely," you say pointing to your eyes, "You have any idea how many people stare at me when they learn of my occupation? Not every day they run into a she-witcher you know."  "True enough," Anya agrees. "Let me escort you two back home," you offer, "this part of the city isn't exactly the best place to be in this time of night. Don't want to risk getting mugged." "We appreciate the offer," Anya says, helping Lana to her feet, "but we're not going home just yet. I think Lana here could use a drink at the Green Mermaid, help drown her sorrows." "Well, then let me join you," you say, "I got the coin for all three of us, and I could use a drink myself."
The three of you head to the Green Mermaid for a few rounds, paid for with your money. It was one of a few places in Novigrad where people like you, Anya, and Lana could be yourselves and be together with people who were like you; a safe haven for non-humans who lived on the very edge of the margins compared to other non-humans, and one of the first places you were introduced to when you came to the city to start a new life.
You sipped on your ale, savoring the taste, before downing the contents; it has a been a long day, and you felt this was well deserved. 
What Anya had said was true; things had been getting worse, for the non-humans especially. Sure the mages recently were having a time getting harassed by the witch hunters, but non-humans were currently taking the brunt of the persecution; many were being evicted from their homes and losing their livelihoods, forced to go to great lengths to make ends meet and survive. For those who were like Anya or Lana, they had to deal with people like the men from earlier; those two were actually lucky nothing else went beyond verbal harassment, knowing that wasn't the case for many others in this city.
The authorities wouldn't do anything, so you had recently taken it upon yourself to step in where you could. While the Axii sign usually was effective, things would get ugly to the point where you would be forced to take out your sword and defend yourself and those you were protecting.
Yet, you still managed to find time to take up monster hunting contracts so as to have an income for yourself and also use to help out the community.
------------the next day---------------
The following morning you went to the nearest flyer to see if there were anymore monster contracts to take up. You saw one and grab the flyer. It was a contract to flush out a nest of drowners that had taken up residence in the sewers near the bathhouse. You were not a big fan of going into the sewers, too many bad smells for your senses and all, but the reward was big enough, clearly someone wanted to get rid of these monsters badly. Oh well, another day, another monster, another sack of coin.
You jump into the sewers, albeit reluctantly, and use your tracking skills to locate the nest. Strangely enough, there were signs that someone else was down here as well; what was even more strange was how familiar the scent was. It was a scent you couldn't quite figure out, but for some reason it started to bring back memories from your previous life...back in Kaer Morhen.
While crawling through the sewers, you hear the familiar sounds of drowners up ahead, along with the sounds of someone with a sword slashing back and forth against the monster. Sword in your own hand, you rush to the scene. 
Once you got there you stop in your tracks when spot who was fighting the drowners. It took a moment, but you knew who it was; he had a few scars more then last you saw him, but it was the same witcher from the School of the Wolf.
"Eskel?" you mumble, to yourself more than anything. You were pulled out of your trance when a drowner came after you. You manage to push it away with Aard sign. Eskel look to you in shock as you stabbed the drowner through the heart and sliced another one's head off. He realized you were a witcher, and though you possessed no medallion, he figured you may come from the School of the Cat as that school tended to be more flexible in taking both boys and girls into the witcher trade. Eskel didn't think much about and went back to fighting the drowners on his end.
"You alright?" you hear Eskel ask you once the monsters were killed off. You turn to him, not sure what to say. He didn't seem to recognize you, though you couldn't quite blame him as you looked completely different from the person he knew from before. "About as well as I can," you decide to answer, "so I guess I'm not the only one who decided to take this contract. You expect me to spit the reward with you?" Eskel smiled a little, "actually I was thinking you take the coin while I go and finish off the rest of the drowners in here." "Very funny," you say.
Eskel tilted his head a bit, like he was examining you. You were feeling a little nervous right now; what if he recognized you? What would he do? What would he say?
"Do...you're a witcher like I am," he say, "what school? The Cat?" "Uh, School of the Wolf actually," you tell him. "Huh," Eskel says, "Didn't think the School of the Wolf took in girls. And where's your medallion?" "...maybe they did take in girls, and you just didn't noticed," you point out.
Eskel took a couple more steps closer to you, like he was trying to figure out if he'd seen you somewhere before, "have we met before? I feel like we've seen each other before, I just can't put my finger on it." "We have," you decide to confess, taking a chance with this man, "Eskel...it's me."
Eskel took another look at you, and his eyes widen in realization, "Wha...you...(your old name)?" "Uh, I actually haven't gone by that name in years now," you tell him, "I'm (y/n) now." Eskel took a few steps back, clearly in shock. You couldn't blame him since you never made contact with him or the other wolves in years, as they all were under the impression you had been dead this whole time.
"That's...that's not possible," Eskel shakes his head in disbelief, "you were dead. I was there, I saw you die." "Well, technically you're not wrong," you shrug, "I know I have a lot to explain, but this may not be the best place to talk." "Yeah, you're right," Eskel agrees, standing up, still feeling shaky in the knees, still getting over the shock that you had been alive this whole time.
--------Seven Cats Inn-----------
Once you and Eskel had collected your reward for the drowners, the two of you went to the inn so as to have a chat over a couple well earned ales.
"So, I guess you want to know why I faked my death," you say as Eskel took a sip of beer. "That's an understatement," Eskel makes a humorless laugh, "yes, I want to know why. Why let us think you were dead?"
"I...it's a really complicated story," you admit. "I got time," Eskel deadpans, "does...does it have to do with this?" he gestures to your new look. "It's mostly that," you admit, "deep down I've always known I was different, even before I came to Kaer Morhen. It was actually the reason my father sent me there in the first place. The day before that he had walked in on me trying my mother's clothes. I can't quite explain it, but when I would wear her dresses it...it just felt right. I think my father sending me to the School of the Wolf was his way of trying to 'fix' me. But even though I was surrounded by boys and doing 'boy' things, it just..." you shake your head, struggling to put words together, but Eskel seemed to get the picture.
"Is that why you were shy around the rest of us?" he asks, making you look at him, "it's just something I remember from our time in Kaer Morhen as children," he admits, "I remembered when it came to bath time, to getting undressed, you always shied away from the rest of us." "Yeah, I remember," you say, "I remember how much I hated those times, how much I hated getting naked in front of other people, how much I hated looking in the mirror when I'd get dressed or undressed. It didn't make things any better when we finally went through the trials, when we had those mutagens put into our bodies." "When I finally went on the Path, I ran into some people here in Novigrad," you continue, "they were like me, and they took me in, introduced to me to their world. I finally found a place where I could be myself, be the person I was meant to be. It hasn't been easy, that much I'll admit; I had to save up a lot of coin to get certain procedures done from this mage in the Bits, but I'm happy, and I have no regrets."
"I'm glad you're happy," Eskel says, "but, I still don't understand. Why? Why have the rest of us think you were dead?" "Eskel-" "We mourned you, (y/n), I mourned you," Eskel continues, "you were one of us. Vesemir was devastated when he found out. He left Kaer Morhen and didn't come back for months. He was fond of you, you know."
"I know," you sigh, "I guess I do have one regret. I'm sorry, Eskel. I had a chance at starting a new life, I wasn't sure if you or the other wolves would understand." "You didn't think to ask?" "Well, would you have understand?" you point out. "...maybe not at first," Eskel admits, "but it wouldn't change the fact that you're still a wolf."
"I am," you agree, "I'm still a witcher, that part of me hasn't changed. I have missed you. You, Geralt, Lambert, Coen, Vesemir, and everyone else that's still there." "Then why not come and see them again?" Eskel asks, "I'm sure they would be excited to see you, especially since you're not dead." "You're not gonna let me live this down are you?" you deadpan, then shake your head, "I can't leave, Eskel. Maybe you haven't noticed, but things have been getting rough in this city, especially for my friends. I have to do what I can to help them out."
"Alright, I understand," Eskel nods, "I'm happy to know you're not dead, (y/n), and that you're getting to be the woman you were meant to. Would it be okay to tell any of the other wolves I run into on the Path about you? I'm sure they'll understand. Though, Lambert might be pissed at first when he finds out you've been alive this whole time, but I'm sure he'll come around to forgive you." "Yeah, that sounds like Lambert," you chuckle a little, "yeah, you can tell them."
"Eskel," you say right as the witcher stands up, "I'm glad we could catch up, that I could finally tell you my truth...and I really did miss you guys. I missed you." "...I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me your truth," Eskel nods before he leaves the inn.
-----------time skip to later that day-----------
You headed back to the Green Mermaid, where you saw Anya drinking alone.
"Mind if I join?" you ask, tossing some coin to the bar keep, "It's on me." "How kind of you," Anya deadpans, handing the ale to you.
"How's Lana doing?" you ask, taking a sip. "She seems better now," Anya admits, "In fact, it seems she's moved on and met someone else." "Oh no," you sigh, fearing the worse. "Oh, I think this one is different," Anya assures, "He's an elf. A tailor to be exact, he works outside the city. I've seen him before, he's frequented this establishment many a time as a matter of fact. Sometimes in dresses, sometimes in doublets." "You think he'll be good to Lana?" you ask. "Only time will tell," Anya merely shrugs, "but I have pretty high hopes with this one."
"Well, I'll hope as well, that girl deserves a happy ending," you say. "As do you," Anya says. "I don't know what you're talking about, Anya." "Oh, come now, (y/n)," Anya insists, "When was the last time you put yourself out there? I know it's not easy, but good gods girl, it seems you've been all work and no play recently. You should go out, at least have yourself a good time with someone."
"Well...I may have met someone recently," you admit, which got the she-elf's attention right away, "Oh? Who is he? Tell me, girl. I want specifics." "Well, it's not really like that," you tell her, "He's...he's someone from my past. A witcher." "Oh?" Anya's eyes widen, "Does...does he know about you?" "Yeah, I told him," you confirm, "Don't worry though, he was accepting. He thought I was dead this whole time, which makes sense since I did fake my death so I could start a new life here. He wanted me to come back to Kaer Morhen to see the other witchers, let them know I'm not actually dead."
"And you'll be going with him?" Anya asks. "No," you shake your head, "I can't leave. There's too much work to do here. He understands." "I can't believe it," Anya sighs. "What, he was understanding," you insist. "No, I mean I can't believe you could be so stupid," Anya elaborates, "I saw that look on your face when you walked in here, (y/n). Now that I know the story, I can see he's clearly someone you deeply care about. Perhaps he was someone you were deeply fond of back then?" "What? Anya, no," you quickly shake your head in denial, "it's not like that! He...We knew each other from since we were wayward youths back in Kaer Morhen. I'm not even sure he would see me that way"
"You don't know unless you find out for yourself" Anya points out, "go to him, (y/n), take the chance, maybe find your happy ending with him if that is your destiny." "I...I can't." "Why not? What's stopping you from going?" "Well, what about you and Lana and everyone else here?" you gesture, "who's going to protect you from your late night sessions at Crippled Kate's or the Rosemary and Thyme? Who's...who's going to stand up for you when the soldier come in and try and rough you up?"
"Well be just fine," Anya assures, placing a hand on your shoulder, "We've made it this far without you, and we'll continue to do so afterwards. We're non-humans, (y/n), we've always found a way to survive." "Oh." "Go to him, (y/n)," Anya insists, "go to him before it's too late."
--------------------------------
It took some time for you track him down, but by the time you had Eskel within eye shot, he was already on horseback right at the very edge of the city. You run as fast as you can.
"Eskel!" you call out, getting the witcher's attention.
"I changed my mind," you tell him, "I know I hurt you and the others when I pretended to die. It's the one thing I've always regretted. But I want to make it right this time. I want to go back to Kaer Morhen, I want to let Vesemir and the rest of my brothers know I'm still alive and well. They need to hear it from me, not from word of mouth from someone else. So...if you'll still have me, I want to go. It'll be nice to see how much the place has changed since last I've been there. Please. Also I would like to get my medallion back."
Eskel looked at you, seeing you were serious about this.
He didn't say anything, but offered his hand to you and lifted you up on his horse. You hold onto him from behind as he guided the horse forward.
Remembering what Anya said, you were extremely aware of intimately close you were to Eskel now, close enough to breathe in his scent and maybe feel the muscles under his tunic.
You feel your face turn hot just from thinking about it, but you quickly push those thoughts out of your mind. You were certain Eskel did not feel that way...maybe.
May consider doing a part 2.
Masterlist
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matenrou-fan · 1 year
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so there's this prompt that I saw in a writing that's like:
You had sex with you partner, and them the next day you say that you didn't cum that time. They took it personally and decided to make you cum several times at the same moment.
SO ALLOW ME TO REQUEST SOMETHING LIKE THIS WITH MY TOP 3 TEASING GUYS: REI, HITOYA AND GENTARO
tysm Anya ilu
🪼
Rei, Hitoya and Gentaro with fem! s/o (+ overstimulation)
ily too <3
GNreader, teasing, begging, sex toys, overstimulation, rough sex;;
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
;MINORS DNI;
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-It was just a direct insult to his men's pride.
-"Ahh, my priceless ladybird, are you sure?" - with a chuckle, he leans closer with a mischievous grin. - "You look like you had a good time last night, huh..?"
-No, actually, even though he would laugh about it and apologize in some teasing manner, you have no idea how personally he takes it. So there's no chance he wouldn't take revenge and show you what this old man and his body are capable of.
-Cause despite his age Rei has a great stamina and can go for hours, for the whole night or day even, if it means he would be able to see your absolutely lost, blushing face, as you cum one more time, neither of you can remember exactly how many..
-"Ohh, I see, my dear.." - he cooed right in your ear before biting a soft earlobe. - "Now I totally can tell when you're actually cumming.. But let me feel it again, just to make sure I would remember well.."
-Also, these hands know what they do. And while his cock so deep inside you, forcing your tight walls to stretch around his thickness, arms not leaving your body even for a second, tickling smooth skin, squeezing hard nipples, grasping your waist in some certain way that makes your whole body tingle..
-Oh, and, of course, words. Some dirty talk during foreplay (this time Rei would make sure you cum only with the help of his fingers, for beginning.), and so many teases about you being so much more sensitive this time than yesterday. Oh, maybe even a little bit of praise for your beautiful body, but only if you would be a good obedient partner and will deserve it.
-He's also waiting for some praise back, but just in another form. High pitched moans and weak attempts to call his name would be just enough, show him how much you like it. But expect to receive another few teases now.
-To the end of the session Rei's just sure you would take your words back, or even ask for more.. Not right now, of course, as he already pulls all possible energy from you, leaving you with an absolutely empty head and zero feelings in your body, all nerves concentrated only in your sensitive parts that he abuses all this time with his tongue, fingers, cock..
-"Mm? What's wrong? It's even hard to walk now?" - he smirks, as it strokes his ego to see how sore you're now. - "Sorry, sorry, but isn't this what you asked for..?"
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-Another hurted man..
-"You didn't? Then why didn't you tell me immediately?" - chuckling, he patted his head. - "I'm sure I would have had time to help you.."
-But actually, he's not that teasing about this, acting more serious as Hitoya actually wants to make you feel pleasant too. So some little talk about what was wrong or what makes you more excited definitely would take place.
-..But maybe you shouldn't have said all your weaknesses and secrets, as now, when he pins you to the bed again, five minutes was enough to make you forget about everything besides Hitoya.
-Surprisingly passionate this time, your boyfriend used all this new information too well. Usually, Hitoya is more playful and prefers to be something like a lazy dom, letting you play with him and fight for some dominance, yet today he has a mission that he's willing to accomplish. Maybe even over-delivers his task..
-But you seem to like it, don't you? Because he's very attentive and listens carefully to all your small sounds,and noticing all light changes in your face, quickly finds just the right place to pound in you, slapping his hips to yours with every thrust.
-Would be more soft with his words in the beginning, actually. Asking how you like it and if he needs to change something.. But somewhere in the middle Hitoya starts teasing you more, clearly seeing how you melt in your pleasure now. Oh, and would definitely make you say something dirty right before your orgasm about how you love to be fucked by him or how good his dick feels inside you.. Such a confession said with a weak voice, and then this tight pressure around his cock.. He can get addicted to this.
-Oh, and of course there's not only one or two rounds. Somewhere in the depth of his soul your boyfriend understands that maybe you didn't have that much fun last night because he's always at work and doesn't pay attention to you, causing a bit of a rift. So today he would improve his attitude, drowning you in this passion that was stored for all that time, making you lose your mind again and again in burning bliss.
-"Oh, s/o.. When you look at me like that you just makes me want to fuck you even more.." - Hitoya chuckles, enjoying how you're trying to catch breath after another mind shattering wave in your body. - "There's no way I will leave you until morning.."
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-You probably thought that he would be chill about this, due to his behavior.
-"Oh, I know, s/o.. When a man can bring his lover to the edge, his dick feels like it was put in mustard.. So I share your pain. " - with a tired sigh, he looks at you and then a small smile plays on his lips. - "Well, that's all a lie.."
-And this is what you expect, thinking your boyfriend's not really upset. When actually Gentaro now comes up with a whole plan, thinking about it more detailed and carefully than about his writings.
-So.. the one who would overstimulate you on purpose. I'm sure he's pretty kinky so there's a bunch of scenarios he wants to play with you, and maybe he found the one that would be perfect as a little punishment for your words..
-Making you sit around with a small vibrator in your clenching hole while you two have a casual date at his place. Nothing more than just kisses and cuddles, and his fingers on a switch, increasing the speed. Your boyfriend don't want to torture you, no! Only waiting when you would start begging for more, so it's all upon you.
-And when you finally ask him for more, there would be a long, long foreplay as Gentaro heated up your whole body even more with his fingers and mouth now, but not letting you cum.
-To begin with, he needs to bring you to the state where you don't even remember your own name from all this arousal that tickles all your insides and brain.. And only after that, taking off his pants and quickly sinking inside you, Gentaro would let you cum as you squeeze his dick with your tight walls.
-He would tolerate only when you get your orgasm while bouncing on him tonight, but don't worry, his cock wouldn't leave your body even for a second, pounding you again and again.
-And of course, what a beautiful wave with words he has..! Your tummy tickles and heart beats faster from all this dirty talk, and this time you can clearly say he's not joking, really wishing to do all this thing with you.. And you can't help but whimper, telling him your limit is not that high.
-"No no no, s/o, we can't stop now.. I was counting, and I want us to finish when there is another round number, okay?" - Gentaro coo right in your ear, tickling your waist before grasping it firmly and start thrusting in you again. - "In this case we would receive great luck in our relationship, believe me this time.."
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lazerv4 · 3 months
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Thoughts on Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Just my raw thoughts not a review or anything
Man what a movie, I remember Fury Road being incredible but this was just so fucking good. Furiosa is a prequel to Mad Max Fury Road and tells the backstory of Imperator Furiosa which we already saw breadcrumbs of but there is a lot here that we were lacking. First things first, it’s a shame Charlize Theron couldn't come back, she was one of the highlights of Fury Road and a stand out performance, but development hell made it impossible to make it convincing with cgi according to Geroge Miller himself so instead we got Anya Taylor-Joy who also completely disappears in the role of not only Furiosa but Charlize playing Furiosa to the point where even her voice is basically unrecognizable and I had to google if they didn’t dub Charlize over it was that good.
The movie begins with Furiosa as a child in the green place that we finally get to see after all this years and it does look like paradise so it gives a lot of validity to Furiosa in Fury Road in hindsight as well and how she is kidnapped, we see the death of her mother which was also mentioned in Fury Road and we meet the showstopper, after so many years of dumb roles, stupid performances and just well Thor I kind of forgot how good of an actor Chris Hemsworth is, he steals the show every single frame he is in as the most hateable and fun motherfucker in the Wasteland and having him as more of a presence to Furiosa through her life as well as through the movie gives him more gravitas as the lead villain than Imortan Joe had in Fury Road. Speaking of Imortan Joe, a lot of the Fury Road baddies show up in this movie and are greatly expanded upon and developed to the point where they stop being forgettable characters with cool looks and become stupid memorable characters that look cool like most of Mad Max characters tend to do.
I really don’t want to spoil to much more besides that the movie is incredible, it’s breathtaking visually and while the action is not as outstanding as Fury Road (I’m sorry for the constant comparisons but they’re basically sister movies) the world and story are better and both movies enhance each other anyways so if you already liked Fury Road there is no reason to not watch Furiosa, please at least make it succeed on streaming, it deserves better and George deserves to end the Fury Road trilogy before he gets too old to direct the one actually about Max.
Bonus game take a shot every time I mentioned Fury Road.
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coconutwaterbending · 10 months
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10 characters | 10 fandoms | 10 tags (we'll see about that last one) I haven't made a text post in so long how's everyone doing. Thank you, rj (@sidprescot), for the tag! This was a nice surprise. :)
Gosh do I have a type and they're all Old Men and Tragic Ladies my beloved. Let's go!! 1. Varric Tethras (Dragon Age 2): he shot right through my heart with that crossbow THE LITERAL SECOND he came on screen and I've been cursing Bioware ever since. He is a nonromanceable short king and I have never wanted anyone more thx. 2. Nakmor Drack (Mass Effect Andromeda): the Tempest Crew is so freaking charming, and while I love my jelly fish cat aliens the Angara, my favorite character is absolutely this old cantakerous grandpa Krogan. Whom, much like Wrex, I wish I could romance. (p.s. there is a TEASE of a flirt option and u can imagine how little that helped my case) 3. Spock (literally every Star Trek iteration): He is my Everything. Nemoy, Quinto, and Peck all bring something unique to the character's portrayal. I love him in every universe and I can never get enough of this EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED NERD.
4. Alicent Hightower (House of the Dragon): one half of my divorced lesbinems and I feel so much for her and the tragedy/complexity of both her character and the heartwrenching slow decay of her r/s with Rhaenyra. I cannot wait for S2. 5. Aerith Gainsborough (Final Fantasy VII): ooooough, beautiful, tragic, kind, funny, cool flower seller of my life. Remake!Aerith particularly stole my heart along with the show. There is this sad, beguiling mystery about her that draws you in, and she is so cheerful in spite of it all. I can't wait for Rebirth but also I am terrified lol. 6. Yennefer of Vengerberg (The Witcher): "How ravishing she is, he thought. Everything about her is ravishing. And menacing. Those colours of hers; that contrast of black and white. Beauty and menace. Her raven-black, natural curls. Her cheekbones, pronounced, emphasising a wrinkle, which her smile – if she deigned to smile – created beside her mouth, wonderfully narrow and pale beneath her lipstick…" I mean. C'mon. That is MY WIFE etc, copy paste rj's exact blurb. Anya Chalotra is the perfect Yen. She is everything and deserves the world and I will glady let her burn it all down and murder me if she wants to. 7. Zero (Final Fantasy XIV): [Endwalker patch spoilers!] who doesn't love an autistic badass goth half-human half-voidsent who has lived as a monster for so long she forgot her own identity and is learning how to be human again and finding her humanity via the power of friendship and delicious food, like. I needed more of her and I miss her already!!!
8. Kim Wexler (Better Call Saul): omg so hard to pick just one from this show (ilu nacho), but Kim Wexler SUCKER PUNCHES U IN THE THROAT with her awesomeness. She is this extremely competent, understated cool, calculating yet caring and earnest character who compliments Jimmy so well and whose nuances her amazing actress Rhea Seehorn manages to convey so masterfully. She is also tragic af, but hello it's Breaking Bad prequel lol. On that note... 9. Kim Kitsuragi (Disco Elysium): DOUBLE KIM WHAMMY!!! They're so alike it's not even funny. I'd say Kim has the stronger moral center between the two, but I love them for many of the same reasons. He is also extremely competent, understated cool, with a side of being totally game for Harry's antics once he warms up to him (my Harry build was 'himbo' so he did a lot of dumb shit but he was nice). 10. Irving Bailiff (Severance): firstable, if you haven't seen Severance yet, please do yourself the favor and don't let me spoil this for u!! Irving Bailiff is an Experience. He is a stickler for the rules and very much a stick in the mud compared to his colleagues, but his true self leaks into this version of himself slowly at first, then in surprising bursts of rebellion that become clear at the end when it is shown that his Outtie/true self is actively trying to bring Lumon down like a TOTAL FUCKING BADASS in the most delightful reveal. Also he has a whirlwind romance with another old man played by Christopher Walken.
phew!! this was fun. lol @ my answers getting longer. I'm not tagging anyone but consider this an invitation to join in on the fun anyway!
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mystical-flute · 1 year
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I Am The Ghost That Hide in the Night Chapter 2: It's a Cold, Cruel, Harsh Reality
Also on AO3 || Ko-Fi
This couldn’t be happening.
What the hell was Yor, of all people doing here? Why was she holding a bloody weapon?
He had been compromised, and worse, it had been by his wife. The woman he had been lying to for over a year now in an attempt to seem like a completely normal Ostanian man, and not Westalis’ greatest weapon.
Fuck. Calm down Twilight. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this, right? Then again, Yor had said there was stuff she needed to finish at work. And Twilight could not figure out what that was supposed to be if she was here covered in blood and holding some very sharp looking weapons.
Still, he needed to figure out what was going on, so he took a slow, deep breath. “Yor… I thought you said you were behind on your work at city hall.” His voice was colder than he normally used with anyone outside of missions. He couldn’t muster up the airy, laid-back voice of Loid Forger. Not now.
“And I thought you were supposed to be helping some patients. I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure murder goes against your code, even if concussive therapy for some reason doesn’t!”
If he’d been anyone else, he might have missed the shudder that went down her spine before she spoke. But he saw the slight quiver of her arms, and while he normally felt good about making people fear him, the sour feeling that had vanished with each death blow of these awful scientists, was beginning to return.
“Clearly… we both have skeletons in our closet. Why don’t we talk about this calmly? Let’s… put our weapons away.”
Yor made no movement to do so. “DId you kill all those people?”
Or… they could just start asking questions with little to no fanfare. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Human experimentation is barbaric. I wanted to stop these people from starting it back up.”
Yor’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”
“How did you?”
Yor’s weapons quivered, and the gun suddenly felt so heavy in Twilight’s hand. A stalemate. How long had it been since he’d been in a stalemate with someone?
“Let’s put our weapons down and talk about this calmly,” Twilight said. “But I have to know I can trust you.”
“Well so do I!”
She was scared, he realized. Scared and flustered over seeing him here. He couldn’t blame her - he felt the same way, even if he was doing his best not to show it. How much had they gone through together while trying to act like a totally normal family? And yet it seemed all three of them had secrets they’d been keeping.
“I’m here because of Anya,” he settled on. She deserved to know.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Anya is not my biological daughter, Yor. I adopted her. And recently I came across some information that told me she was one of the children experimented on here.”
Yor grew paler, which Twilight would admit was rather impressive given how fair her skin usually was. “She… these people hurt her? They hurt our daughter?! And you didn’t leave any of them alive for me to take care of except one?!”
Okay, good. She still trusted him, and was just as angry as he was over what happened with Anya.
“I didn’t know you would be coming tonight, Yor. How could I have left some alive for you?” he asked with a frown.
“I guess so…” she agreed. “But what I don’t understand is how you know how to kill people with such precision.”
“I would like to know the same thing about you. How do I know you aren’t a member of the Secret Police come to take Anya away?”
“I’m hurt you’d think that after everything we’ve been through! Besides, I’m not with the secret police! Besides - ” she lowered her voice, like she was hoping he wouldn’t hear her, but he distinctly heard the words “Shopkeeper hates them.”
He believed her, of course, because he knew it was Yuri who was on that path, but still, it was good to hear her say it. “I believe you. And I want you to know I’m no fan of them either.”
Yor sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Good…. Then who are you?”
Twilight glanced around, then shook his head as he approached her, dropping his voice low. “I shouldn’t tell you here. We trust each other, and our house is secure from any traps or listening devices. We can talk more there.”
“Okay,” Yor agreed. “I’ll meet you there.”
He nodded once and turned back to the files he’d been collecting before Yor came into the room. “RIght, I’ll be off with these.”
“But won’t the government realize some documents are missing?” Yor questioned.
“It’s hard to tell if something is missing or if it got burned away in an explosion, isn’t it?” he asked, sliding his hat back onto his head and putting his gun back in his inside jacket. “You have five minutes to get away from here as quickly as possible.”
Not that he doubted she would, now that he knew she was apparently harboring a secret the same as he was. All of her random acts of strength were suddenly becoming clearer - he just didn’t know who she worked for, which was an issue Twilight intended to solve tonight.
Yor nodded and bolted from the room. Twilight followed, but by the time he’d gone outside, he couldn’t see her anymore. Oh well.
It was done. Those people would never be able to harm Anya ever again.
Twilight turned the key to his van just as the warehouse exploded in a brilliant flash of light.
“Excellent work, Agent Twilight. It seems Mr. Franklin’s handiwork once again paid off,” Handler said with a smirk when he returned to headquarters and dropped records on her desk. “Though I will admit, I was expecting you back sooner.”
“It appears we were not the only ones aware of that organization and aiming to stop them,” he began carefully. If he could avoid telling them about Yor, he would be satisfied with lying to his superiors.
Handler, though, sat straight up, alarmed. “What? Who else was there?”
“Someone who planned to do the same thing I was.”
“Twilight.”
He wouldn’t be able to get out of telling them the truth. He expected it, but he was hoping to not put a target on Yor’s back.
“Before I say it, I need your assurance that WISE will not go after them.”
“I can’t promise that, Twilight. If you were compromised - ”
“Operation Strix will be compromised if any harm comes to the one I ran into in that building,” Twilight said simply. “I am not asking for assurance, Handler. I am expecting it.”
Those words seemed to get her attention, and she leaned over in her chair to make sure the door to her office was locked. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Because I ran into my wife there. She had also been sent by someone to eradicate the scientists.”
“Your wife? You ran into Yor Briar at that warehouse?”
“I did.”
“And she was tasked with killing the scientists?”
“Correct.”
“Who tasked her with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Twilight!”
“We didn’t have much time to talk. You are the one who told me to blow up the warehouse after I grabbed the information you requested,” he pointed out. “The only thing I heard her say was ‘Shopkeeper hates the SSS.’”
Handler frowned. “I’ll look into it. For now, this stays between us. We cannot jeopardize Operation Strix. How did she seem to react to your presence?”
“Shocked but she didn’t seem interested in harming me. She was, however, enraged when I told her Anya had been one of the children there.”
“The fact that she still cares for the girl is a small comfort,” Handler said. “Fine, I won’t report it to the superiors, but I trust you understand why we are going to have to keep a close eye on her from now on.”
That was the best he knew he was going to get, so he nodded in agreement. “Very well, Handler. I understand.”
“Good. Now get home, it’s late.”
Right. The neighbors had already suspected Loid Forger of cheating several times by now. It was best to not let them think it was happening yet again. 
“Thank you for your understanding, Handler,” he said.
“You better hope this doesn’t end poorly for you, Twilight, because if it does… Operation Strix is finished and you will be assigned another mission somewhere outside Ostania.”
It wasn’t the first time she used that threat, but it was the first time Twilight actually felt worried and angry at the thought of it coming to pass. He couldn’t let Anya go back to the orphanage, not now. Not after knowing she’d been experimented on.
“Hey Loid,” he heard Yor’s soft voice call as he approached a corner. “Shall we walk home together?”
The City Hall uniform, once so innocent and unassuming, looked wrong on her now.
“Of course, Yor,” he said with a gentle smile. “How was work?”
It was odd to Twilight that moving into step with Yor as they walked the familiar Berlint felt totally normal, despite what they’d found out about each other.
“So… how are things with work? Did you manage to smooth things over with your patient?” she asked quietly.
Interesting. She knew to keep things normal and unassuming while they were walking home surrounded by other citizens of Berlint, even if many of them weren’t paying attention and were instead glued to the shops that sold TVs, news about the explosion having broken while he’d been at WISE headquarters.
“Things are stable for now,” he said. “And what about you? Is everything okay at City Hall?”
“For now.”
They were in another stalemate then, it seemed.
When they entered their building, they greeted the neighbor ladies with a smile before entering their apartment. He distinctly heard one of them comment how nice it was to see the two of them obviously coming home from a date night, and while he was glad they appeared to be giving off the appearance of a normal couple, he wondered how much longer it was going to last.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you two to get done at the same time,” Franky greeted, looking up from the magazine he was reading. The TV was playing the news report about the explosion, and if Twilight had been a lesser man, he wouldn’t have caught the giddiness in Franky’s gaze. He supposed everyone got pride out of something, even if it was creating an explosive. “Pretty crazy about that warehouse, huh? Good thing you two were nowhere near!”
Yor managed a nervous cough. “Nope! I was all the way at City Hall and Loid was at the General Hospital!”
Franky gave her a confused look as he shoved the magazine into a bag, leaving an inconspicuous Berlint General Hospital folder on the coffee table where he’d been. “Right, yeah, obviously you two were. Anyway, Anya finished her homework, ate, watched Spy Wars, and passed out after trying to re-enact the episode with Bond. He’s also in her room. I’ll get out of your hair now. See you tomorrow, Loidy-boy, Yor.”
When the door clicked closed behind Franky, he heard Yor’s soft giggles from behind her hand. “I’m glad you have a friend like Franky, Loid,” she said. “Now… I don’t want to make this difficult, so you’d better spill who you are.”
Loid turned in surprise to find his wife standing behind him with her weapons limply at her side. Clearly, she hadn’t deemed him a threat… yet.
He kept himself calm as he considered the best way to get out of this situation. “Let’s make this easy on each other. On the count of three, we say what our professions really are, okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. One - ”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Spy.”
“Assassin.”
They each stared at each other in shock. An assassin? That made sense, given there had been a rash of killings linked to assassinations lately but who in politics would want to assassinate those scientists? Perhaps the current political leaders? If Desmond was linked to the scientists in the warehouse, that was the only group he could think of.
“You’re a - you’re a spy?” Yor asked, her voice quiet. “What are you doing in Ostania? What do you want?”
“I want to stop Donovan Desmond.”
Yor’s shoulders dropped in relief. “You want to stop him? You don’t support him?”
“Of course not. We’re concerned he’s planning to reignite the war with Westalis. We want to intercept him before he can.”
“That’s why you were so interested in me becoming friends with Melinda… because it would get you closer to Desmond.”
“Exactly.”
Yor sighed and ran a hand down her face. “I can’t compromise myself by killing you or divorcing you. Yuri would be too worried.”
“And I can’t compromise myself by killing you either. Eden already looks down on me for having a second wife.”
“Am I really your second wife?”
Ah, right, they were supposed to be telling the truth now, so Twilight cleared his throat awkwardly. “In the eyes of the Ostanian government, yes, you are.”
“And in the eyes of Westalis’ government?”
“To them I’m just a weapon. I gave up any chance of a normal civilian life long ago.”
Yor frowned. “Then what about Anya? Is she just a tool for you to use while you try to get closer to Desmond? What about me?”
Twilight sagged onto the couch, his head in his hands. “At first, yes, that’s all either of you were. But as this mission has gone on, the more I feel like I genuinely care about you both, and your safety. That’s why I have vowed not to turn you in. And when I first started storming the warehouse, I had every intention of taking some of the scientists back to headquarters so our people could interrogate them, but when I got there and realized I was at the heart of an operation that allowed Anya to be hurt, that could try to find her again and take her away from me - us, I knew there was no sense in leaving any of them alive.”
He heard the zip of Yor’s bag open and glanced over at her. She put her weapons in her bag and set it down next to the chair, then took a seat in it, her hands clasped in front of her as was typical.
“I - I see,” she said with a frown. “I’ve grown to care about you too, Loid, and Anya. In fact… since we’re being truthful, I may have lost Anya the day we adopted Bond… and when I found her, I ran into a couple of those student terrorists. They were threatening to kill her. I don’t know why.”
Twilight frowned and looked down at the folder, thinking back to what Handler had shown him back at headquarters before he spoke to Yor. “It’s possible she overheard something she shouldn’t have after she got separated from you. What happened to the terrorists?”
“I managed to knock one of them out cold, but the other one escaped. I think he must have been the leader since he had another dog with him besides Bond. Anyway, I ran into him again while I was looking for Anya. I called the police, but I don’t know what happened after that because I was too busy trying to find her other than he was taken into custody.” She frowned and sighed. “Do you know if those students had anything to do with the people who hurt Anya at the lab?”
“No. My intelligence agency confirmed they got the dogs from the black market.”
Yor sighed in relief. “Good. Then at least we know the people who hurt Anya are dead.”
Anya Willians, Anya Levski, Anya Roche… Surely Anya had been hurt by those people too. Maybe not physically, but it couldn’t have been easy to be returned to an orphanage four times. No wonder she never said anything to them.
“Loid?”
He glanced up, shaking himself free from his thoughts. “Yes, Yor?”
Her hands, while still clasped, had tightened around themselves in the way they did when she was uneasy about asking him something. “Do you know why those people hurt Anya? Or… what they did to her?”
“I can’t answer either of those for sure, but… Anya is a telepath, Yor. They were going to use her for their own gain.”
Yor’s head bowed, but he saw a glimpse of anguish on her face before it was hidden by her hair. “Our poor daughter… I just want to go into her room right now and give her all the hugs I can.”
“Anya doesn’t know that we know about her, Yor. It would be best to not even think about it until we can figure out how exactly to bring it up,” he said. While her head was down, he took a moment to peek into the folder Franky had left. More information on the scientists, it looked like. Good. He’d read that later.
“Oh… wait, does that mean Anya knows about who we really are too?” Yor questioned, running her hands down her face. “That explains a few things…”
“Yeah. I had that feeling too,” Loid said. “A spy and an assassin are raising a telepath. How in the world did we get here?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’m glad it’s you who found out about me and not Yuri. But there’s something else that’s bothering me right now.”
“What is it?”
Yor furrowed her brow. “Why would dogs be on the black market? That’s usually reserved for drugs, or poison, or other things that are illegal in Ostania. But dogs? Are they the same dogs these people experimented on?”
“So your boss knows about the experimentation too?”
“He’s very well-connected to the black market.”
Twilight knew he should press for more information, but on the other hand, with he and Yor being having a truce, he didn’t want to ruin the fragile trust they had in each other. “I see. Yes, you’re correct. Those dogs were part of an experiment called Project Apple that the Ostanian government’s old regime started. But from what we’ve been able to find, it didn’t seem like the experiments were ever successful. The dogs disappeared after that, until they showed up with the terrorists.”
Yor nodded in understanding. “Yeah, okay. If that’s the case, then… does that mean Bond - ”
“Borf?”
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eversleyestatehq · 19 days
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hi! just curious — do you happen to have any wanted connections?
imogen eversley is searching for a familial connection that is between the ages of 28 - 38 and looks similar to dev patel, brenton thwaites, callum turner, josh o’connor, bill skarsgard, sobhita dhulipala, bae suzy, daniela nieves, anya chalotra, jesse james keital, maia mitchell, melis sezen, anya taylor joy, any fc and could be considered the label utp. the familial dynamic is this muse is the sibling of imogen’s husband, henry radcliffe. he’s not a good man or husband, and with familial interference he’s been “away” for some time now. this muse has entered the estate looking for answers. and the person that picks up this role does not need to contact the mun: ( @guiltswept )
marina eversley is searching for a relationship connection that is between the ages 32 - 37 and looks similar to jeremy allen white, fabian frankel, ryan corr, cosmo jarvis, aldis hodge, trevante rhodes, manny jacinto, UTP and could be considered the UTP label . the familial dynamic is her husband which she married at the ripe age of 20. they have three children together. despite being married, she never took his last name, keeping hers due to the power it holds. they don’t get along considering her cold and machiavellian nature but they stay together to keep up appearances. theirs was an “arranged” situation that kept her in her father’s good graces considering that marina is a child conceived from an affair that her father had years ago — and the family hardly lets her forget it. whether he truly loves her is up to the player! but he has tried to be the husband that a woman deserves. if he has become disillusioned along the way, that’s perfectly fine too! any other ideas we can certainly discuss. and the person that picks up this role does need to contact the mun @fermatasx / discord username: bochoxx
adrian eversley is searching for a friendship/romantic connection that is between the age of 26-29 and looks similiar to  valentina zenere, amanda obdam, alexa demie, utp  and could be considered the  vixen, utp . the dynamic is tw drugs: adrian spent most of his late teens/early twenties partying and snorting his parents’ money away and i imagine that this person was right there beside him as his fwb! she had him wrapped around her finger and would often encourage his bad behavior. they lost touch for reasons utp and are now reconnecting at the estate years later. your muse wishes to relive what they had and is taking full advantage of adrian’s soft spot for her. she’s not supportive of his sobriety nor his girlfriend. this person is a friend of the family! and the person that picks up this role does need to contact the mun ( @adrivns )
blake collins is searching for a familial connection who is between 22-27 and looks similar to rachel sennott, molly gordon, or any younger brunette fc and could be considered the utp. the familial dynamic is blake’s younger sister; they were close growing up until blake left america to travel after college. they haven’t seen each other in person in six years before blake got her a job at the estate. the person who picks up this role does not need to contact the mun (@theblakecollins and/or discord user ajstrash).
hector eversley is searching for a friendship connection that is between the 32-34 and looks similar to greta onieogou, monica barbaro, khadijha red thunder, jessica matten, nicola coughlan, brigette lundy paine, adria arjona, jesse james keitel, george mackay, taylor zakhar perez, kofi siriboe, keith powers, utp and could be considered the utp. the dynamic is childhood best friend that he's grown up with, ideally someone that's the complete opposite of him personality wise and it amazes people they're still friends. either a close friend of the family or even a child of a long-time staffer that grew up on the estate. and the person that picks up this role does not need to contact the mun @inh3ritanx
hector eversley is searching for a familial connection that is between the utp but younger than hector and looks similar to anya chalotra, archie renaux, avan jogia, charles melton, jesse mei li, zoe kravitz, davika hoorne, utp and could be considered the utp. the familial dynamic is half sibling through his birth mum. she was bought out and forced to sign an nda before being fired from the estate, and so hector has never met her nor has he ever looked for her. reasons for your character being on the estate is utp though i'd prefer if their identity as hector's half sibling hasn't been disclosed yet! and the person that picks up this role does not need to contact the mun @inh3ritanx
sato kazuya is searching for a friendship connection that is between the 50+ and looks similar to salma hayek, catherine zeta jones, michael imperioli, octavia spencer, neve campbell, michael sheen, monica bellucci, keanu reeves, aishwarya rai bachan, laz alonso, olivia colman, nicole kidman, justin kirk, utp and could be considered the utp. the dynamic is one of his oldest friends who pulled kaz out of london and into rehab before getting him a job at the estate through the eversley's. perhaps a long-time staffer or a friend of the family who recognized he needed a change of pace. they bicker like an old married couple, tom and jerry vibes but for boomers. and the person that picks up this role does not need to contact the mun @inh3ritanx
hi love, you can find more on our wanted page!
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