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#either live by your ideals or die by them
mysicklove · 4 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 | R. SUKUNA
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Summary: Being mated to the most blood thirsty omega around is not ideal for most alphas, but at least his body is up to par! ♡
Warnings: sub (ish???)/omega/bottom sukuna, alpha/gn! reader, strap referred as a dick, dubcon, threatening + small amount of blood (as usual), heats, slight yandere! sukuna, trueform sukuna, slight role reveral regarding omegaverse dynamics, reader is basically sukunas pet, subspaces, anal fingering, self lubrication (slick), biting, heavy praise, multiple orgasms, violent behavior, slight degradation (use of nickname whore and bitch), dirty talk, starts off as smut but then feelings are involved (reader is a simp at the end)
WC: 9.1k
A/N: sick in the head...sick in the head...
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One of the world's greatest surprises is that the King of Curses is an omega. The horror stories told about him never once mentioned his dynamic, and so everybody believed that he was an alpha, which made sense considering his history. Those who came in contact with him never really had time to spread the news to others, having been killed so quickly. So only a special few knew about it.
But it wasn't like Sukuna was embarrassed of his second sex. No, the king took pride in his dynamic – it made killing alphas way more satisfying knowing that he instinctively should be baring his neck to them. And so, he never took a marking, finding nobody worthy of it.
That is until he met you. You definitely weren't worthy of his mark, being incredibly weak and holding no authority over him. But for some reason or another, Sukuna became fascinated by you. You never showed signs of fear, nor interest in him, and almost everybody feels one of the two emotions when meeting him. He was compelled to learn more about you, and somehow, Sukuna became attached to your side for a while.
He didn't love you nor feel any feelings similar to love – it was for curiosity's sake as to why you were so different than the other alphas. 
Sukuna eventually determined that you were either an idiot or crazy for how you talked to him. You treated him like he was just simply another annoying suitor around. It was entertaining to the bored king. And so, you were his test subject, and once he was done studying you, you were to be killed.
But alas, Sukuna fell into heat not long after meeting you, and he had gotten himself mated with you. A foolish thing that Sukuna has never even gotten close to doing in his entire lifetime.
He almost murdered you after his heat for daring to mark him – a permanent thing for omegas, while you, an alpha, could live your life freely. But it wasn't like you had intended to mark him. Sukuna, at the peak of his heat, had threatened to slice your head off if you didn't claim him. You didn't happen to dislike him too much, and you did not want to die, so you followed the king's orders and drove your teeth into his neck during his orgasm.
And the second his heat was over, he had run off without a word. He was humiliated by the fact that he was claimed now and had visited you multiple times since that day to put an end to your useless life. But every time he saw you, he would hide away so that you didn't see him and leave without you knowing. It wasn't his fault; everything in him screamed for him to be next to you, being freshly mated, but he refused to follow those instincts.
With his time away, he couldn't help but think about you nearly all the time. You were kind to him, even though he hates to admit it. You cleaned his body up when he was twitching from exhaustion and covered in his own bodily fluids. You must have been equally exhausted, having been forced to keep up with his pace, but not once did you complain nor mention how weak he must have looked with his drool stains on his chin.
And even before his heat, he didn't seem to mind you. He liked that you always quipped back your own insults and didn't allow yourself to get bullied by him. It made it entertaining, and he found himself enjoying conversing with a human. But still, even with your complaints of how annoying he was for not leaving you alone, you would cook extra food so that he would never go hungry. Although Sukuna didn't have a preference for human food, he still found himself eating a few bites. You were providing for an omega, and Sukuna made careful note of it, hating that he found himself pleased by it.
During his preheat, you offered your house to him and brought him blankets and pillows for nesting even when he nearly tore off your arm for entering his (your) room. And when he dragged you into his nest, you complimented it as you were supposed to, which still made his insides stir.
Plus, when he trapped you in his nest for a couple of days, you didn't make much of a fuss – other than when you had to use the restroom, to which he nipped at your hand like some sort of dog in complaint. You were a weak, pathetic alpha, and he couldn't let you roam free, practically begging to be injured. His nest was the safest place to be, and so in his head, you were to stay put there for all of his heat.
But Sukunas possessive and overprotective thoughts shifted instantly when his heat dwindled down. He got up and left the day his heat had ended, and you were left completely shocked at his sudden disappearance. It was out of the blue, considering he had been around for weeks beforehand. You couldn't help but feel distraught over it, having also felt the bond, even if it was not as extreme for an omega. Plus, during his heat, he was cuter than you have ever seen before. He was needy and whiny but still cute. 
You may have garnered your own feelings toward the curse, something close to love, or some sort of infatuation at least. So when he left, you were left nearly broken for weeks, having just previously been daydreaming about how you could manage a new life with the two of you. It was a hopeless delusion, and you should have known that, but it still hurt.
But you aren't as pathetic as he thinks, and by the second month, you were over it. Sure, the bond sometimes made you feel a little listless, but after so long, you have even begun to forget how he smelt. And your feelings toward him rapidly shifted, now finding him repulsive for abandoning you. You had decided that if he would ever come back, you would reject him.
You should have known that wasn't going to happen, considering you still harbored feelings for him. Lo and behold, nearly three months later, Sukuna returned.
He barges in the door, almost tearing it off the walls. You nearly jump out of your seat at the noise, but your eyes widen the second you smell his scent. The mating bond made it even more appealing to you, and you could also make out the smell of omega in heat. You curse under your breath at the smell but remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of you freaking out over his sudden appearance.
You were seated in your office doing work when he came in. And just seconds after you smelt him, Sukuna conjured himself behind you, sharp nails dragging up your neck in both a greeting and warning. But you weren't having any of it, a familiar rage bubbling in your chest at his return. So, you just continue to stare ahead at your screen. 
"Leave," is the first thing you say, the first command. You never used an alpha command on an omega, but this situation definitely called for it. He was mated to you, so the words had to have a more significant effect on him. But alas, he was the king of curses - he was not going to back down so easily.
"Why do you smell of other omegas, you pathetic alpha?" 
His teeth graze your neck, and you try your best not to shiver, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of it. You try to mask your scent, thinking of things other than his tongue that seems to be peeking past his lips. 
You should ignore him — you know you should ignore him, but you just can't seem to find it in you to. "I was not with others if that is what you are asking," you roll your eyes, still facing your computer while he leans over you. "Though I wish I had been."
"I would have killed them," he purrs, dragging his claws down your chest. "Ripped them apart for daring to touch what is mine while you would have sat and listened to their screams of agony." His teeth graze your earlobes, and you gulp, thinking about how horrid that would be. "Would you like it? Like to watch your omega get all possessive over you? It would fuel your little alpha pride, I would suppose."
He was releasing his scent in waves, and it was beginning to make your head spin. But it was your house, and he wasn't just going to barge in and claim it as him, so you also release your own scent, which pulls a purr-like chuckle from him. Then, you slump in your chair, finally sparing him a glance. "Omegas aren't supposed to be possessive. That is more of an alpha trait, dont you think, Sukuna?"
"And you are possessive over me?"
You go silent for a moment, reaching out to touch his face. You tilt his chin back, forcing him to bare his neck so you can run your fingers over the bite mark you made just a couple of months ago.
He goes quiet, amused by your touch but not liking your lack of response. But then you pull away, like nothing happened, and return to your computer. "I dont need to be," you sigh, "You won't let anyone fuck you that isn't me." 
One of Sukuna's top eyes twitches, and he spins the chair around, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. Your face remains blank, and even when he begins to dig his finger into your cheek, you dont show any signs of amiss. Your lack of response drives Sukuna insane, and you raise your eyebrows at his glare. 
He growls low at you, baring his teeth and continuing to cloud your house with his now seductive scent. "You have some nerve to talk to me that way, you pathetic excuse of an alpha. You are looking at the most desired omega on this planet, and you think for a second that I wouldn't fuck somebody else?"
Your hands travel to his wrists, tugging his hand off your face. He surprisingly lets you, but with each second he seems to grow more angry. This is surprising to you because his scent conveyed a completely different emotion. Everything radiating from Sukuna was Look at me, Fuck me. And if you gave into instincts, the two of you would be without clothes by now. But alas, Sukuna left you for three months with no word, and you weren't going to allow yourself to get pushed around by him.
So, you stare back up at him, a wicked grin pulling at your face. "You are the one baring my mark and are crawling back to me after all of these months." You see his face begin to fume, and his scent turns sour from displeasure at the words. "But I am not going to fuck you. I dont want to fuck you. You left after forming a bond with me. I don't want you anymore. Go home, omega."
The words seemed to burn at your tongue, going completely against your instincts. You were purposely hurting an omega, which is everything that alpha's were basically encoded against. But alas, you did not want to get caught up in Sukuna's web.
The room smells horrid by now, mostly from disapproval but also distress — it almost made you whine out, feeling horrible for making any omega feel unwanted, but you bite your tongue and try your best not to focus on his scent. It would only do you worse in the end.
"You think you can speak to me this way because you marked me? Are you so delusional that you think I won't kill you on the spot?" His finger does now cut at your cheek, and you flinch at the stinging sensation along with the blood that now drips from your cheek. He never was afraid to use violence to prove his point. 
But then, he licks at your blood. You feel the stripe of his tongue from your chin all the way up to your cheek. "Do you want me to roll over and show my stomach to you? Want me to croon at you and beg you to pup me? I am not your omegan bitch."
"You would be more appealing if you were."
He chuckles at you, shaking his head. "I am the most appealing thing you will ever see in your puny lifetime. People would kill to be in your position."
He was nibbling on your ear at this point, dragging his pointer finger up your shirt, seconds away from ripping it in two. The scent Sukuna let out was back to being seductive, probably too overwhelmed by his heat to maintain his displeasure.
"Nobody would want to be mated to a bloodthirsty curse."
His teeth drag up your neck, and he laughs at you again, low and rumbling. "You do, or did at least. Considering you did mark me, my pathetic alpha."
The insult doesn't phase you. You shut your eyes and sigh out. You couldn't help but be turned on at this point – his knee was meticulously placed in between your legs, and the smell of heat wafted through the air. You were trapped whether you liked it or not, and you could feel the fight in you begin to dwindle. "You would have killed me if I didn't."
"And I will kill you if you turn me away again."
"Can you try to make it seem like you are not always threatening me? Alphas prefer to be the one in charge, you know."
He grabs your hand and leads it beneath his pants where his slick was pooling. You gulp, looking away and trying not to salivate at the wetness. "You can always fuck the control out of me," he breathes into your ear, and you let out a shaky sigh, "If you do it well enough, I could end up crooning at you for more. You would like that, wouldn't you?"
Your fingers find his hole, and you borderline whine, accidentally ignoring his question. You have been thinking about this for months now, and him now being here now sends your head spinning. "So wet."
"'s all for you."
His mouth latches onto yours and he groans into it, kissing with so much force that you a pinned to the back of your chair. You feel his tongue drag over the inside of your mouth, trying to claim as much of it for himself. You pull away after a moment, collecting your breath, and realize that he has you wrapped around his finger. "Y-You want to bottom?"
He bites your lip hard enough to draw blood, and you hiss, grabbing your mouth and pulling away. "What was that for?!"
"For being an idiot. Of course I want to bottom." He licks at your lips, healing them with his cursed technique, before moving onto your cheek to do the same thing. "How did I end up with a stupid alpha?"
You growl at him, "It's not my fault I can't think." The smell of heat was so strong by now that your head was dizzy. "You want to tell the entire world you are trying to get fucked? Sounds whorish to me."
"It's working isn't it?" He feels you circling his hole, finally sliding your first finger in. "Will you turn me into your whore, alpha?"
The thought makes you groan out, head tilting back while he continues to lick and kiss your neck. But you don't dare to stop your movements, knowing that if you were, he would probably find some way for you to focus your attention back on him. He was greedy for it all.
The second finger slides in without much trouble, and now Sukuna is straddling you. He was much larger than you andhis frame completely engulfed you, but still he caved his body forward so that he could continue his ministrations. You already knew that your neck was to be covered in marks by the time he was through of you – he was possessive, and it wasn't because of his second gender. 
Slick was now beginning to drip down his thigh, and he was beginning to rock his hips back and forward onto your fingers. The chair was making a screeching noise, upset with the large man for trying to put his weight on it. 
You pull away for a second, and Sukuna immediately returns to kiss you again, cupping your face with two of his palms. Again, you try to pull away, and still, he doesn't let you speak, continuing to force his tongue into your mouth. A warning growl pulls at your throat, and you pull your fingers out of him.
He, in response, lets out his own growl, louder than yours, considering his growl was more out of disapproval at the removal of your fingers. His face by now was flushing red, a telltale sign that he was slipping completely into his heat. 
"What now?" Sukuna hisses, and you roll your eyes.
But, instead of biting back another remark, you change your tone, taking the softer route. Omega's like to be coddled, and Sukuna was no exception, no matter his status. So, you rub at his cheek with your thumb. "I know you're feeling needy, but can we take this to the bedroom?"
His main set of eyes blinks at you, physically relaxing at your gentle touch and the crooning. You, in return, have to hold back a smirk, knowing that if he was to see it, he would grow pissed again. You couldn't help but compare his behavior to a bratty child. But still, he climbs off your lap, and you sigh in relief before squealing when he effortlessly lifts you with his top pair of arms. 
A deep purr-like chuckle is let out, and he glances at you before walking over to your room. "I can walk, you know," you say, slightly pouting at being cradled like some sort of child.
"And risk you taking a fall and somehow dying on me? I am not risking the possibility of not getting fucked because you are the weakest creature that walks the earth." He doesn't even look at you when he says it, continuing to walk forward. You remain silent, just sighing and shaking your head, but used to this ridiculous behavior.
You notice the thick smell of arousal that was still pooling out of him, and most omegas would be stuck in their nests, barely able to walk. But Sukuna wasn't a typical omega, and you both found his unpredictableness endearing and nerve-wracking.
Your finger pulls his robe open, and without him looking, you latch your teeth onto his nipple, gently nibbling on the bud. He fumbles with his steps, and immediately, a clenched groan is let out, paired with a small shiver. The reaction pleases you, and so you smile at him before he can question your actions. "Still just as sensitive, I'm glad. Tonight is going to be," you reach up to trace the side of his face. "Fun."
The purr of approval vibrates his entire chest, and you laugh.
He kicked you out of your own room, as he did last time. When he arrived at your room and saw the perfectly made bed, along with the complete absence of his scent, he had borderline dropped you. So, just like last time, you sat outside your door, occasionally passing him more blankets or pillows, and crooning at him so that he didn't get pissed off thinking that you left him.
His heat smell was getting thicker with each minute, and in return, your head was growing foggy – you couldn't imagine what was going on in his own head. "You better have not moved from that position. I hear your stirring. Don't make me break your legs."
You haven't moved from your seated position in front of the door, so you roll your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, clingy bastard. Just trying not to cum in my pants from your scent." It was a sarcastic remark, but when you hear the king chuckle in delight, you tap your head against the wooden door and close your eyes.
It was weird to have him back, and you are not surprised that your heart feels strange around him – you were bonded afterall. It was good to have him back – you found comfort in his scent, but the thought of him disappearing again made you frown. You tuck your knees close to you and bury your head in them.
Sukuna opens the door two minutes later, slightly panting and flushed red. His body was growing weak. Now, he was completely bare, and his cock was standing hard against his lower stomach. But, you didn't notice, still in your little ball on the floor.
He looks at you, raising his eyebrows, because he has never seen you in this state. You were always reeking of confidence, standing tall and proud while you openlingly defy him. He, strangely, didn't like to see you look like this and your scent was beginning to turn stale.
"Why does my alpha look like a mopey kitten?"
You don't look up at him, slightly pouting. "You have to promise me you won't leave after this. I'm not some fucktoy for your heat."
Sukuna would be lying if he didn't say his omega was purring at the idea of staying with you. The last couple of months have taken a toll on his body, and although he is the strongest person to walk this planet, it was quite annoying to be in a constant state of distress. "Ill think about it – depends on how well you fuck me. How can you be so whiny when I am the one with slick dripping down my thighs?" 
You look up from your makeshift ball and are immediately hit with the smell of it. But, you dont have time to look at his thighs because you are being scooped up again like you truly were some sort of kitten. He holds you with one hand and uses another one to pet your head as he drags you to his nest. "There, there," he tries to comfort, "Dont be sad little alpha, you make me feel weird when you are moping."
He was purring at you, and even if you tried to, you couldn't help but feel better. But the moment doesn't last long — he drops you into his nest, crossing his top set of arms above you and waiting. You raise your eyebrows at him, glancing at his cock that was hard and on display before going back to his smug face. "Why are you showing me your useless cock?"
"Im not," he bites, baring his teeth for a moment, before shaking his head. "The nest. Compliment it."
"Oh." 
Sukuna seemed to have a set of procedures he wanted to follow before getting to the real deal. It was surprising, considering that most omegas wouldn't miss a second of sex for something as silly as this. But you could tell he was beginning to struggle from the way he was slightly trembling. 
You quickly turn to pillows and pillows, along with your miscellaneous dirty clothes. He was tapping his foot, quickly growing impatient. So you nod at him, giving him a small smile to show that you are happy. "Very nice. Soft, comfortable. I really like it. Good job, Sukuna."
He releases his pleased scent in waves, and a small croon leaves his lips. But even when you could tell that he was practically wagging his tail at the compliment, all he says is, "Good. You are to stay here for the duration of my heat. No exceptions. And dont you dare think about getting up to relieve yourself without telling me? I will string you alive."
That meant that he was probably going to be stalking into the kitchen for food and water like he did last time. Alphas are supposed to provide food/water and protection to their omegas in their most vulnerable state – Sukuna seemed to not follow traditional dynamics roles, which wasn't that surprising. But still, the idea of you being the one to be taken care of makes you slightly pout. 
The omega seems to read your mind. "My vulnerable state is a million times stronger than you at your strongest. You stay in the nest."
"Your wish is my command, Lord Sukuna," you say sarcastically, leaning back in the cushions and sighing. 
He finally comes crawling toward you, pinning you beneath his massive frame. But you are not intimidated by him, to say the least, so you just raise an eyebrow at him. He presses a small kiss to your neck before saying, "I like the way that sounds on your lips."
"Yeah, I bet you do, you arrogant bastard." He chuckles at you, taking a deep inhale of your scent and then gently rubbing his neck onto yours. The action is sweet, but you are flooded with the smell of arousal, so you are getting particularly impatient. "Are we going to fuck, or do I need to find another omega in heat?"
It was a risky joke, and you knew that you shouldn't have said that the second it left your mouth. But Sukuna, in turn, just rumbles another laugh, gently biting the skin of your neck. "Little alpha has jokes?" he asks, and you remain quiet, biting your lip and hoping that you dont cause the deaths of innocent people. "Do you think it would be funny if I killed every omega you laid eyes on?"
You grab his chin and force his lips onto yours. He eagerly accepts your advances, purring low while cupping your face with two hands. "Your means to distract me are so cute."
You don't respond to the mumble against your lips – instead, pushing your tongue into his mouth. You can feel himself beginning to rut against your pelvis, probably staining pre on your clothes. But, the fabric doesn't stand a chance anyway, as he tears through it with his finger. The sound causes you to pull away, frowning at him. "That was my favorite shirt."
"And it was in my way," he breathes, before pressing his mouth back to yours. You fingers begin to make their way to the back of his thighs and he hitches a breath when you finally bring your fingers back to his entrance. It was properly lubricated as it was before, and it makes it incredibly easy to slip two fingers in.
Sukuna breathes a sigh of relief at the feeling, having been daydreaming about you inside him for the past couple of hours. He unconsciously rocks his hips back into the digits while you scissor the hole, preparing him for what is later to come. Your knee comes up to where his cock grinds against, and he groans into your mouth. 
You pull away from him, now choosing to focus on his neck. Your mouth litters it with kisses and small love bites, but focus on the outline of your teeth from three months earlier — the mark you gave him. It seemed to be a sensitive part for him, considering the way all of his eyes are squeezed shut and his arms trembled on the pillows next to you. 
"Such a pretty mark," you coo, curling your fingers inside him slightly toward his stomach so that it hits his prostate right on.
Sukuna, in return, eyes fly open, and he chokes up a weak cough at the feeling. But, he quickly recomposes himself, swallowing some saliva and looking back at you. "Glad one of us likes it."
"You are a liar," you tease, kissing his jawline, "or else you wouldn't come crawling back to me. Tell me, Ryomen, did you miss me?"
"You are going to have to fuck me with something bigger than your fingers to get me to babble such nonsense." He holds a cocky grin, flashing his teeth before using his tongue to lick at your lips. The action makes you cringe and look away while he laughs.
But his moment of triumph is cut short when you plunge another finger inside him. It sends his mouth flying open, and his eyes widen at the intrusion before he lets out a guttural moan. "Fuckkkk," he groans, grinding himself on your fingers, "T-Thats more like it!" 
You grin at him, rubbing your thumb on his lips. "Such a size queen. Do you need something bigger?"
His tongue darts out, and he licks at your thumb while you raise your eyebrows. He seemed to be glaring at you, but it didn't do much, considering his eyes were growing hazy and his cheeks were flushed. "You know what I want. Are you going to fuck me, or do I need to find another alpha?" 
It was a cute attempt to try and use your words against you, so you can't help but laugh. "Have you ever been fucked by someone else, Sukuna? I swore I was the first to ever be inside you." 
To this, he goes silent. It was true, and in fact, even if it went completely against instincts, Sukuna during his previous heats would be the one fucking his partners. He didn't care about their sex, nor their dynamic, all he was looking for was pleasure. Granted, being inside someone didn't have the same feeling as being the one penetrated, and he realized that very quickly after his first heat with you. He didn't know if he could go back to the half-ass pleasure he was grantedbefore.
So when he hears you laugh, the curse merely scoffs and looks away. But, you move quickly away from the subject, and instead push him off of you. "Get on your hands and knees," you say, and then sigh, knowing better than to give him any commands. "Sorry, that sounded demanding. Can you please get on your hands and knees, Sukuna? It will be easier for the both of us."
"I am not your bitch," he bites, but still, he climbs off of you and readjusts himself in front of you. He was not ashamed inthe way he presented himself – slick ran down his thigh and coated his hole while his cock laid heavy in between them with pre cum beading at the tip.
You sit up, giving his ass a squeeze that sends him growling at you. You go silent for a minute, preparing everything while he sits and waits semi-patiently. But once you are all ready, you grin at the muscled body laid out so perfectly in front of you. "Trust me, I know. But I do hope to change that."
He doesn't have time to respond when you are suddenly pushing into him. The curse, in return, grips at the sheets, turning his knuckles white from the mere force of it. He hisses out and bites at the pillow in front of his, and his ring stretches to take the new intrusion. "Fuck!" he groans, shaking his head, "Was it always this freakishly big? S-Slow down before I come up there and tear your head off!"
You roll your eyes at the threat but abide by his demand. "So dramatic," you sigh, using your finger to trace over his wet entrance. "You seem to be gobbling me up just fine down here. You are so whiny, king of curses."
He let out a string of profanities, and tears begin to prick in his eyes. It makes your own eyes light up, and you thrust forward to bottom out completely inside of him. His body erupts in a fit of shivers, and he hides his face from you in the pillows. Sukuna's entire body was burning up by now, and your hands trace at the flushed skin on his back while you wait for him to adjust to the length.
His whines, you realize very quickly, did not express his true feelings. The air was growing thick from arousal, and the second you bottomed out inside him, a pleased scent is released. Your lips curl up in a smile. "Well, aren't you just a little whore!"
Growls echo through the room, but you quickly shut them up by pulling out and thrusting forward. It makes his himchoke a gasp and more of the pleased scent is let out, making the room smell incredibly sweet. The power is getting to your head, but you relished in it for all you could, considering that once he got adjusted to the length inside him, he would be spitting his own insults in between moans. 
But for now, you lean forward and lick at his neck, just over his scent gland. "You feel good? Finally sedated after having a cock up your ass?"
"I will if you do something with it. You are boring me to tears," he pants into the pillows, one of his eyes looking back at you. But you just shrug at the complaint and finally begin to move. 
You start off slow, pulling your hips back all the way until the tip reaches his rim and then back forward. But it seems to have a greater effect on him than you thought. He lets out a muffled groan and slightly raises his hips so that it gives you easier access. You would comment on the display, but you watch a bead of slick drip down his thigh and instead remain quiet, so you dont miss the show.
The noises he makes are cute, low in pitch compared to most omegas, but dont hide the fact that he was in an immense amount of pleasure. The sight in front of you was one to behold – his hole stretched prettily just for you while his entire body was trembling. You could tell he was growing annoyed with the slow pace, so you move your hips quicker, only causing him to clench onto the sheets.
He curses out his own set of profanities, and so you lean forward, pressing your chest to his back, and kiss him. It shuts him up instantly, and the king is craning his neck back to kiss you with an 
unmatched ferocity. It makes you chuckle in surprise at the desperation of it all, and he slightly growls into your mouth, knowing exactly what you are thinking. 
His tongue was a lot larger than yours, and he seemed to have no shame in using it to completely claim the inside of your mouth. One of his hands also cups your face, trapping you to his lips. But, even with his possessive hold on you, you dont let up on your pace, knowing that he was to surely bite (and not on your neck) you in the position if you did.
And so his body jerks forward with each slam of your hips, and Sukuna has to push himself back so that he can reach your lips. His groans are eaten up by your mouth, but still, you can feel the vibrations of his purr. It makes you let out your own sounds of affection, and he greedily consumes them without shame.
You rip your face away from his, and he frowns at you for a split second, already on his way to let out another complaint, before you grab his neck and push it into the sheets. You dont do it hard — you aren't trying to suffocate him, but simply to show what position he is in. Now, his ass remains in the air while his face is buried in some of your pillows. He makes a sound of surprise, but you quicken your pace before he can ask what you are doing.
Your hips move at a rapid pace, and it gives him no room to adjust to the new position. You were drilling into him without a care in the world, creating a lewd sound of slapping of skin. It made his eyes widen, and he bit the soft fabric of the pillow, canines digging into the sheet, nearly tearing it apart.
You hook your finger into his mouth, pulling his lip back and contorting his pretty face. "Hey, relax. Dont rip up my pillows; I just bought them."
"F-Fuck you!" he warbles, but it comes out shaky and breathless from your movements, and you swear you can see his eyes beginning to roll back. But still, he brings his hand over to his mouth and chews on the flesh instead. The action only makes you grin, knowing he was slowly beginning to give in to his instincts to please his alpha.
So, you lean forward, not daring to stop your movements until your chest was pressed to his back. Then you find his ear and lean close till you are centimeters away from it and say, "Well, aren't you just a good boy? Doing so well for me, huh, my omega? Pleasing your alpha by taking me whole."
Much to the surprise of both of you, his abdomen tenses up, and cum shoots out of his cock. It stains the sheets a creamy shade of white, and his entire body begins to tremble with the shocks. The curse doesn't make a peep, biting his lip as he clenches onto the walls of the nest and tightens around your length.
The action makes your eyes widen, and a breathless laugh falls from your lips. "You wanted me to be mean to you your last heat, but you have a praise kink?"
His entire back was turning red, and his cheeks twinged with embarrassment. The man shows you his teeth, growling slightly while craning his neck to look at you. "I do not. Watch your mouth, little alpha, before you piss me off."
"Do you want to be my good boy, Sukuna?"  
Your breath was right next to Sukunas ear, and his entire body goes through a fit of shivers. His scent was screaming Yes. Yes. Yes. But Sukuna just faces the pillow and shakes his head. "Shut up. You are disgusting me."
Your hips begin to pick up their pace again, and a small whimper escapes his lips from the twinge of overstimulation. But still, immediately he begins to press himself back into you, not daring to escape the pleasure he had sought out for. Your lips find his neck, and you begin to litter it with marks, which only drives Sukuna to the brink of insanity due to his instinctual fondness for being "claimed."
"Look so pretty for me," you trace your finger over your claim mark, "Pretty and marked up. So perfect. How am I so lucky to be mated to you?"
"Stop it," he mewls for the first time, voice wavering, and he shakes his head as if trying to snap himself out of a trance. His hips push back into you, and you grin at the display before gripping his hips even tighter. Even his back was pressed into a deeper arch, unconsciously presenting his full self to you.
You run your fingers through his hair at his groans, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Can you cum for me again, my sweet boy?" 
The coo next to his ear sends his eyes flying open, and a guttural moan slips out. His legs, flushed a shade of red from the heat of it all, begin to shake, and before he knows it, he comes tumbling off the toy, ass still in the air as his second, much stronger orgasm crashes over him. His hole clenches around nothing, and he bites his teeth into his hands, letting a round of muffled moans fill the air. Tears even begin to fall down his cheek, and his entire body trembles while cum stains the sheets. 
He had cum twice in the past ten minutes. It was common for omegas to get overwhelmed and orgasm quickly after another, but for Sukuna, this was incredibly rare. He had a praise kink, and this confirmed it.
It was a pretty sight, and so you cock your head to the side, tracing the skin between his thighs, admiring the trembling muscles. The man goes eerily quiet after his second orgasm, and his body looks tense. "Sukuna?"
He doesn't answer, not daring to look at you. You lean forward to get a look at his face, but he turns around and lets out a low warning growl. It makes you pause for a moment, confused, and then you see a drop of blood fall onto the white pillow in front of you. He still doesn't look your way.
He was hurt, and your instincts took the better of you. "Sukuna, look at me."
The omega lets out another small growl — this one weak and barely heard. In return, you growl louder and let out an abundance of pheromones, causing him to tense up, incredibly close to submitting. Then you grab his chin and force his face toward you.
Your eyes widen at the sight. He was biting his lip so hard that blood was beginning to fall down his chin. But, it wasn't that that surprised you. No, it was Sukuna's expression. His face was an abnormal shade of red even for his heat, the flush going to his ears and down his neck. His eyes were glassy with tears, and he didn't dare make eye contact with you. 
Sukuna was embarrassed from cumming so hard from the praise you gave him. You have to hold back a croon — the king of curses look unfathomably cute in your hold.
Your finger ghosts over his lips, and you murmur, "Heal it". He obeys without much thought, and in an instant, the pink flesh is restored. But the curse still doesn't look at you, so you kiss his cheek. You knew he didn't mean to, but a small whimper slips past his lips at the affection. Your grin is wolfish.
"Why are you upset?" You croon, knowing exactly why. Your positions seemed to have switched. It was less than an hour ago when he was the one trying to comfort you. Although his reasoning for being upset was definitely not as reasonable, bug you aren't going to complain when he looks so cute.
"Im not, weakling. Let's just go again. C-C'mon, im starting to feel itchy again."
You lean forward kissing his jaw and then moving to his neck to press another kiss to his scent gland. His entire body shudders. "So needy. You're lucky you're so cute. Do you want your alpha to make you feel good again, hmm?"
When your tongue licks a stripe on his scent gland, Sukuna groans, head spinning. He hates that when you scent mark him, it makes him feel giddy, like some sort of pathetic school girl. You are supposed to be a quick fuck, and then he was going to leave again, but the way your talking to him, like he really was your omega makes his heart pound in his chest. Would he always feel like this if he were to stay with you? Make this his permanent nest? Be your mate?
A purr rumbles through his chest.
Sukuna never considered having a mate. But alas this is the second time he has had this thoughts. The first when he nearly forced you to bite him, and now, his second heat with you. His sober mind pushed away the thoughts immediately and instead took to hiding from you. But could he do that again? It was borderline unbearable for the omega — it went against what his instincts were screaming at him to do. To be with his alpha.
You nibble on his ear, already pushing back into him and this time Sukuna groans out. His body was angry at him for attempting to go a third round without a break, but he didnt care, it felt too good. His hips push into yours and he hisses when you wrap your hands around his cock.
"How many times do you want to cum today?" You ask, voice breathless as you keep up the ruthless pace that would only please Sukuna. Your movements were quick in pace, jabbing into his sensitive spot without mercy, exactly how he likes it. 
His mouth begins to hang open and his eyes hold a glaze to them. Now, he looked more akin to what a normal omega would look like in a heat. He was just a little harder to break down, but his roots were all the same. 
Sukuna blinks at your question, slow, mindless. “Mhmmm…a-lot..? Wanna…cum…” 
You giggle at the warble, but this time he doesnt say anything snarky in return. In fact, he seems to be pleased at himself for making you laugh. For making you seemingly happy. He tries to lean his head back to scent you, but due to your arm pushing his head into the nest, he doesn't go very far. He growls in displeasure.
You instead lean forward and rub your neck against his, even if there was minimal to no effect in the action. His scent was already so potent you were to be smelling of him for at least a week after his heat. But you indulge him in the instinctual pleasure, and he sighs into what is most likely your dirty shirt. A fucked out smile tugs at his lips, your eyes lighten.
"You're like a grumpy kitten, you know?" You run your fingers through his pink hair, brushing it back. Your movementsof your hips slow slightly, but they are still deep and give Sukuna enough pleasure for him not to whine out. You kiss the back of his neck. "Hiss and claw and bite whatever it sees. But the second the fierce creature gets some warm milk, it's back to being cute and docile, just like you, Sukuna."
Gears are turning in Sukunas head, no doubt from the intensity of his heat, so you wait and continue to brush at his hair and kiss at his neck in time with your thrusts. A couple seconds later he manages to bite back a weak, "Not cute or docile…bastard."
You hum at him, grabbing his chin when his mouth falls open after you seemed to his his prostate. "Docile may not be the best word, sedated maybe. Just need some dick to calm you down." You take a moment to catch your breath, panting slightly into his muscular shoulder. "I can keep you sedated."
"S-Stop babbling nonsense."
"Not just with sex," you continue, releasing an abudance of calming phermones that almost match his intensity. Then you let out a croon, paired with a nearly overdramatic purr. He was too weak to fight his instincts and so practically mewls at the sound, letting out his own purr in return. 
"I can keep you calm, make you feel safe." Although you knew you could never be as strong as him, you could try at least. Your hand reaches below him to play with his dick again, and Sukuna jumps. "I'll put up with your hissy fits and your extremely possessive nature. The killing…will be something to be discussed when I'm not inside you."
To this, Sukuna makes a sound that shocks you. He laughs. Its not mocking like they usually were, harsh and mean, instead it more like a giggle, like he truly thought what you said was humorous. You pray it's not the heat talking but you try not to get your hopes up.
Instead, you continue on your rant, now picking up the pace of your hips. You slam into him, restarting the rhythm of the slapping of skin on skin. Sukuna bites the pillow, but you pull his hair back, earning a pained moan from the man. "Y-You can kick me out of my room to build your nest whenever you want. Fuck, I can just permanently sleep on the couch if that'll make you happy."
Sukuna couldnt respond, his eyes were practically rolling back. You were so deep inside him that he could barely think. However, the desperation in your tone, paired with the saturated scent of you trying to please him, conveyed exactly what you were saying to him. He hates that it makes him happy to see you want him, to feel desired by you. It should be an inconvenience, really, but he can't help but feel like his own feelings were being returned.
"F-Fuck, gonna cum again!"
Your hand is rutheless on his cock and your mouth nibbles at his neck. "I'll make you happy, Sukuna, you know that. You just got to let me."
Hes grown dangerously hot and he fees the muscles begin to tense up with his upproaching orgasm. A wracked sob leaves his lips, and he squeezes his eyes shut. 
"Be my omega, Sukuna. Let me love you." You dont give him a chance to respond before you dig your teeth into the exactsame spot you marked him just a couple of months ago.
Claws dig into cloth beneath him, and his eyes widen at the pain. But your words paired with the bite send him over the edge, and hes cumming once again, harder than the previous times. Tears stream down his face and he doesnt let out a noise this time – he holds his breath while the pleasure takes over. His hole clentches around you and his legs shake from under you. There is no doubt that more of the nest was stained a milky shade of white.
You slump against him this time, licking at the wound, before rolling off with a sigh. He groans a little when you pull away from him, but your hands travels to his face, rubbing against his cheekbone. Sukuna, for the first time, looks tired, like that orgasm took a toll on him. Although, you have never seen him look so content. A small smile sits contently on his face, and he looks at you with soft eyes.
Then, much to your surprise, the large man grabs onto you and forces you close to him. You yelp in suprise, but he justwraps two sets of arms around your form and buries his face into your neck, taking a long, dramatic inhale and then sighing contently. You pet his hair with a chuckle. 
"Are you thinking about my offer? Although, if you did live here we would have to get a bigger apartment…You are too big." The sentence felt ironic considering how small he looked when pressed to close to you. It was strange to see a creature so big act so small, like some sort of overgrown lap dog. He would murder you if he heard you think something like that.
He closes his first set of eyes and peers at you with the second. Then he shakes his head. "I'll think about it. Now let me rest, pathetic alpha."
Maybe it was a naive hope, but Sukuna seemed rather pleased when saying that. It was the closest think to a yes you will get, you kiss at the top of his head and he groans in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, whiny omega. Go to sleep before you get horny again."
"Dont try to leave the nest. I'm not kidding, I will incapitate you if you try anything funny."
"I won't, you bloodthirsty murderer. Now sleep."
"I'm fucking going!" he mutters and you let out a laugh as he gentle nips at the skin on your neck. He then grabs your hand and forces it on his head, silently demanding you to pet him. 
You run your fingers through his short pink hair, and he purrs contently. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep, and you are not far after. You needed to rest before the monster would wake you eight hours later with a flushed face and a wicked grin. You did promise him an abudance of orgasms after all. 
After a hazy five days, Sukuna awakes in the dirty nest. He doesn't feel itchy and disgustingly hot, but his body is sore, and he seems to still be exhausted. You lay draped across him, head on his chest and sleeping soundly, equally spent as he is from keeping up with his demands. The curse stares at you for a long moment before one of his hands comes to trace your cheek, admiring the soft skin and how small you are compared to him. You are too breakable for an alpha, it makes him nervous. 
He doesnt think about it when leans forward and gets a good whiff of your scent. The scent of his mate. He purrs quietly to himself, careful not to wake you.
You stirr in his hold and he gulps, eyes flickering toward the door. He could leave if he wanted to, come back for his next heat. You wouldn't send him away, even if you tried with your weak commands, you had a weak heart. A weak, pathetic human alpha loves him — someone unworthy of his own love. Sukuna frowns.
You make a mewling noise and nuzzle into his chest like some sort of cat. Red eyes tear from the door and back to your sleeping face. Sukuna scoffs at you, hating that he found you cute, before pinching your cheeks together that pulls a whine from you. This was the person that was supposedly going to make him feel safe? He laughs.
But the second your tired, fond eyes gaze up at him he unconsciouslly had made his decision. 
He tilts your head to the side, four pairs of eyes scanning the smooth skin along your neck. It was too bare. Sukuna had to change that, or else some omegas would get the wrong idea. He flashes his canines, dragging his tongue along them and grinning at your wide eyes.
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autistichalsin · 16 days
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Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending
If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.
So let's break these down!
Lae'zel:
I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.
This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.
Karlach:
Fuck you.
Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.
Wyll:
I... I forgive you.
This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.
There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.
Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:
I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.
Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?
(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)
Selunite Shadowheart:
I... I thought we were going to save each other...
This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.
She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.
Gale:
You made me want to live...
From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.
It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.
Spawn Astarion:
I should have killed you when I had the chance...
The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.
And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?
All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.
Ascended Astarion:
No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...
In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.
But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?
He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.
Halsin:
Thaniel... goodbye...
Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.
So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.
And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.
Minthara:
No... we were meant to do this together...
Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.
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meanbossart · 4 months
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What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?
(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)
Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".
They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.
But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.
I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?
This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.
And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.
But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.
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lyraeon · 1 year
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If someone falls overboard on a cruise ship, and there is a life preserver on the wall next to you, you throw them the life preserver.
Yes, it would be great if the ship had better railings so no one fell overboard to begin with. Yes, it would be awesome if everyone knew how to swim well enough to save themselves even in such a wild event as falling off a ship, but that's not a standard thing that's taught most places right now.
Yes, it probably is a good idea to know how to swim before you go on a ship, but even if you know how to swim, the act of falling into the water can startle anyone into panicking, so you don't really have time to ask them if they can swim or not before they need the life preserver. Yes, being careful around the railings is a good idea, but you have no way to know right now whether they were doing it for the Vine or someone just tried to murder them, and either way do you actually think they deserve to die for not being 100% careful 24/7?
No, you should not be expected to jump in and try to rescue them yourself when you aren't trained and don't know them, but that's not what anyone's asking you to do. They just want you to grab the life preserver off the wall and throw it towards them, or even to just hand it to someone who can aim well if you're worried about being held responsible if you miss, or hell, you can just get out of the way so someone else can grab it off the wall.
Don't deprive someone of help right now just because in your ideal world, they wouldn't need it. People asking for accommodations within the current system aren't trying to uphold it, they are trying to survive and improve their lives, so don't deny them those because in the system you want to have in place they wouldn't need that accommodation.
Don't deprive someone of help right now just because you're morally inclined to believe they "deserved it". You don't know anyone else's situation, you can never have full context, and quite often, the time and effort it takes to pass judgement on someone's worthiness is more burden on everyone than just giving them the help. And even if you earnestly feel you don't want to help them, why would you stop someone else from doing it? After all, even if your excuse is "to keep them from helping someone who doesn't deserve it", you felt the first person got what they deserved, so why would you think the person trying to help them doesn't deserve any results too?
Put down your swim class brochure and either grab the life preserver or get out of the way so someone else can.
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jackdaw-kraai · 1 year
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I think there’s something rather strange going on with all the folks who insist that the Jedi Order in the PT was right and didn’t forbid love and Anakin should just have followed their teachings when the whole point of the prequels is that they are prequels. They come before the OT, and the OT proves the Jedi wrong. They literally do not make sense if they don’t do that.
Luke, in the original trilogy, gains his ultimate triumph, his ultimate victory, because he loved in defiance of the teachings of the old Order. He quite literally had the ghosts of the past telling him, explicitly and without ambiguity, that he has to put his love for his father aside and kill him, as is the duty of a Jedi. Luke has the weight of millennia of teachings weighing down on his shoulders, telling him they knew and know better than a young, inexperienced man barely out of his teenager years. That he should follow their teachings or be destroyed. That is an immense weight to carry, and many people would and explicitly have given in to it in-universe. What are your feelings and ideals in the face of such immense legacy, after all?
But Luke doesn’t give in.
He doesn’t bend.
He says “I may be young, and I may be new, but I believe to my heart and soul that love matters more than this legacy. Matters more than your teachings.” And he says this to the ghosts of his mentors. That is such a powerful moment and one I can’t believe George Lucas didn’t create deliberately for even a second. This young man, being told he has to kill or die trying for a system that is dead or dying itself, that couldn’t survive itself, and refusing to do so. He is the living refusing to continue the violence of a dead generation. He is the young man refusing the draft into a war the old generation started, saying “peace and love matters more than you being right.” He is the embodiment of breaking the cycle.
And the movies vindicate him.
The main villain vindicates him with his last dying breath.
Darth Vader, dying, says “You were right.” and admits he and his were wrong. The main antagonist, Luke’s nemesis, in the face of his son’s immense, defiant love, gives way and does the impossible: he comes back to the light and dies a Jedi. The very thing the old Order says was impossible.
They were wrong. They have to be. The narrative demands it, the movies don’t make sense without it.
The solution was never to continue the cycle of the old Order, or Luke would have failed there, would have failed when he said “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” And claimed that defiant, deviant, condemned definition of being a Jedi over the one presented to him by the Grandmaster of the old Order. If the old Order was right, Luke would have to be wrong. Be wrong about love, be wrong about laying down the sword, be wrong about refusing to fight. He would have to be wrong.
But the old Order is dead, explicitly killed by a monster, in some part, of their own making. It’s members only existing as bones in the ground or ghosts speaking from beyond the grave. They did not deserve it, it should not have been inflicted on them, but the narrative is clear on this: “The old way is dead, and was dying for a long time before that. Long live the new.”
Luke is that new. Luke is the breaking of the cycle, the reforging of swords into ploughs, the extended hand. Luke says “I don’t care how much I was hurt, I refuse to hurt you back, and you don’t need to hurt me either.”
“We can end this together and choose love instead.”
And Darth Vader, killer of the Jedi, End of the Order, lays down his arms as well, and reaches back as Anakin, saying “You were right.”
It wasn’t Obi-Wan, Yoda, Mace, Qui-Gon, or even Ahsoka who achieved the ultimate victory in the end, following the tenants of the old Order. It was Luke. Young, inexperienced Luke, who saw that the age of legacy handed to him was only history, that the sword handed to him as his life was only a tool, and that the decrees of the dead were only advice. And he took it all, said “thank you for your experience, but I’ve got it from here,” and laid it all down to instead extend an open hand towards his enemy.
And his victory, his ultimate triumph, his vindication, was that he was proven right when his enemy reached back and became just another person. Just another person, just like him.
The Jedi did not deserve what happened to them, and they did not deserve to die. But the story is clear on this: the Jedi of old were wrong, and the Jedi of new, the Last Jedi, was right. No sword or death will ever end the rule of the sword or end the bloodshed. But love?
Love can ignite the stars.
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katnisspeetaprim · 7 months
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Father Figure
Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader
Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...
Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!
Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list
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Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.
Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.
Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.
One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.
So here you were.
Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.
You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.
Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.
Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.
‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?
‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.
‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.
‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’
‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?
He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.
‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.
Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.
‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.
Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.
Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.
The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.
‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.
‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’
Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.
‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.
‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.
‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.
‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.
‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’
Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.
Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.
One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.
The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.
Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.
‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.
‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.
‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.
‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.
Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.
‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.
The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.
You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.
Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.
‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.
He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.
Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.
‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice.  Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.
‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.
You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.
‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’
You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.
‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.
They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.
Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.
‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.
‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.
‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.
‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.
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‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.
‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.
‘Uh-sir?’
‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely.  They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.
‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’
The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.
A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.
‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’
Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.
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Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.
He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.
He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’
As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.
‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.
‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.
‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.
You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.
As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.
‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.
‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘
‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.
Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.
When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.
‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’
Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.
‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.
He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.
You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.
They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.
Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.
Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.
You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.
‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.
You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.
‘I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’
Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.
The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.
It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.
‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.
Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading  across his face.
He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.
‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.
‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.
You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.
Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.
‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.
Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.
Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.
‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.
‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.
Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.
You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.
Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.
‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.
‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.
‘Thank you.’
‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’
Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.
‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.
  ‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’
‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’
‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.
‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’
‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.
He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.
‘I grantee it.’
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burningvelvet · 9 months
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being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide
walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration
be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 
speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 
be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)
consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.
reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 
if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 
speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.
if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.
After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.
If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.
If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 
DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.
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pythoria · 1 year
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feeling some feelings about gale tonight *cracks knuckles*; he was a child prodigy, he was in tune with the weave, and inevitably mystra, since he was just a little kid. imagine being so in tune with magic, feeling so comfortable and safe within its bounds, falling in love with something so beautiful as a child. it becomes your whole world. imagine being filled with such childish idealism, such hope, that your only desire becomes getting closer to this thing, this goddess, finding that love and safety and giving it form.
imagine growing up, finally getting the attention of your goddess, how starry eyed you must be, how proud of yourself. this is your whole world, the reason you're alive, your purpose in life. mystra is everything to you, the magic in your veins, the giddy feeling in your heart, the proud ego in your chest. and then she finally *sees* you for the first time, you end up sharing her bed, touching her, talking to her, earning her approval, and, you think, her love. magic is your job, your lover, the motherly embrace of childhood. of course you would try to ascend to be with mystra forever. of course you would want power, so she sees you as an equal. of course you want to impress her, she's all you've ever known.
and then when you fail, when a ticking bomb gets stuck in your chest, you get none of that love and care. she doesn't protect you, she doesn't even talk to you anymore. so you've lost everything you've ever held dear in one fell swoop, the basket you put all your eggs in shattered, and you're left with nothing. you're now a middle aged man, your whole life spent in service of your goddess, who abandoned you at the first sign of free will you've shown. you feel like a failure. you don't have any friends, nor lovers, and you fall from being an archmage to nearly becoming an ilithid thrall. and maybe you realise that were it not for the astral prism, you'd have become a mindflayer and mystra wouldn't have saved you.
maybe you realise she's completely written you off when elminster shows up and tells you she wants you to sacrifice yourself. maybe you think "is this what my life's work is worth? a lifetime of devotion? a second hand missive asking me to die?". but no matter how ridiculous the request, you're in too deep now. nobody would care if you died, mystra made sure you were always focused on her, never making meaningful connnections with other mortals, having no friends, foes, or lovers. if mystra forsakes you, you might as well not exist. so death to serve her might be the best ending you could've hoped for, really.
except along comes someone, and they also have a worm in their head, and you team up, and soon enough there's a bunch of you strutting around faerun, and suddenly someone *cares*. for the first time in years, you actually have... friends? and they're telling you mystra is insane, that you've been manipulated, they tell you that what mystra is asking is too much, that they want you to live. and you're defensive, of course. you still love mystra, and you can't get away from her either, because you feel her presence every time you cast as much as a firebolt, magic running through your veins like ambrosia, nectar and poison all at once. you conjure her face to gaze at, and when you start falling for tav, you show them the weave, because that's the only way you know how to love. eventually you accept that you might have to defy mystra to stay alive and suddenly you have a choice again. but in the process, everything you knew and loved turned to dust, and you had to build yourself back up from the ashes, all while smiling and laughing and trying fruitlessly to fit in with your companions, who find you stuck up and weird after so much isolation.
gale is such a tragic character, if you think about it.
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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months
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Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing
Series Masterlist
Author's Note: This is story non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being; 1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so. 2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad. Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask! Enjoy!
Word Count: 4k
Chapter Summary/Warnings: See Author's Note for Summary. Contains usual tags. Chapter title is from Growing Up by Fall Out Boy.
Read on A03!
Chapter 2
Want to be tagged? Just ask!
You were not, and never had been, in the business of fighting your wars bloody. You fought them smart, and you fought them dirty. You wouldn’t call yourself callous; if anything, you could use a little more misanthropy in your life, but your moral compass was… subjective. You would steal bread to feed your family, you would cheat if you knew you wouldn’t get caught, and, as you had spent the last six months learning, you would quickly cover your hands in all the blood and grime in the world so that nobody else would have to.
Which was, unfortunately, not a figure of speech.
You let yourself lie in the mud, the cool texture soothing your always-warm skin, and fought the urge to sleep. You could hear someone shouting your name, strung together with an impressive array of obscenities and barely audible over whatever phase of the argument your companions were on, but god, you just could not bring yourself to give a fuck. Sure, the blood on your face was already dry, and the hay mixed into the mud itched and needled at your skin, but you’d live. You’d survived much worse, and at this point it was scientifically impossible for you to get sick, so everyone could just come back for you in a week or two. Maybe three. However long it took for the nightmare sheep to die and Vought’s stock prices to be lower in the mud than where you lay. Maybe a bit longer. Maybe until Homelander wasn’t a you problem anymore. Maybe they’d feed his corpse to the nightmare sheep when they came to get you.
You felt yourself smile a little at that thought. Dead Homelander, weak and pathetic; golden hair grimy; awful blue eyes milky and hollow. Dead Homelander, hands unable to hurt you, mouth unable to twist into that horrific smile. Dead Homelander, pretty face mauled and stupid outfit smelling like shit from being dragged in it to the barn. Dead Homelander, being torn to tiny pieces and eaten by sheep. Dead Homelander, the worst thing that ever happened to you, finishing his reign of terror shat out next to a creek somewhere.
Your smile covered your whole face at this point. It probably looked weird and creepy—the dire, life-or-death situation you were smack dab in the middle of not doing it any favors—but god, it was too perfect a daydream. You could live here forever, in the mud, with your fucked-up little fantasy on loop.
Tragically, you barely had twenty seconds in this ideal world when something hit you in the face.
“What the fuck?!" You sat up, ignoring the hand offering aid from Frenchie, glaring around the barn for your assailant.
“Bout time you join the land of the living, Love. We’ve got a fucking problem, and you don’t get to nap until it’s fixed.” Across the barn, Billy Butcher shot you a cocky grin that didn’t meet his eyes. To be fair, you weren’t sure it ever did.
“You didn’t have to hit me in the face, you ass.”
“That was me,” Frenchie cut in. “And you should thank me; Monsieur Butcher was going to shoot you.”
“You were going to shoot me?!”
“Would’ve felt the same either way, wouldn’t it?” Butcher shrugged.
“No! I’m not bulletproof, you dick!”
“You’d live.”
“So would MM if you shot him! I don’t see you gearing up for that!”
“Well, MM wasn’t sleeping in the middle of a crisis!”
You rolled your eyes, meeting Butcher’s glare from across the room. "Oh, please, you just wanted an excuse to try and kill me!”
“If I wanted to kill you, Sweetheart, it’d look more like this.” Butcher’s arms started to move behind him, where you knew he kept his gun, and you braced yourself, hands fisted at your side.
“Hey!” MM stepped forward, arms raised. “You, if you shoot anyone, I will throw you out to the sheep, I swear to God. And you,” he turned his gaze from Butcher, “turn it down; it’s the middle of winter in Maine, and I feel like I’m standing in the goddamn sun.”
You blinked, realizing that the room had rapidly become impossibly hot, and everyone had moved far as possible from where you stood. The new, alien feeling that sat under your skin was alight and sharp, almost buzzing through you.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back. MM lowered his arms, a look of what might have been concern flashing across his face, but turned away as the conversation returned to the murder-sheep issue.
You took a few steps back; nobody stopping you or asking for your contribution, fully allowing you to shrink into the wall. You felt your hand move up to your throat, trying to slow the tense, short breaths passing in and out of your body.
“Try thinking of something that calmed you down before.”
You jumped, not having noticed Victoria Neuman move to your side, and gave her a small frown as you responded. “What?”
“Something familiar. Anything that takes the edge off. Trust me,” she gave you a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. It won’t get easier on its own. And that,“ she gestured to your hand. “Won’t help it long-term.”
You nodded slowly, forcing yourself to drag your hand from your throat. Something happy. Something happy from before. What had been happy before?
Briefly, city lights flashed in your head, a song on a stereo accompanied by your own hum ringing silently in your ears. It vanished just as fast, but something in your chest loosened, and the feeling waned. Glancing over at Neuman, you saw a small nod of approval before she left your side, allowing you a second to steel yourself before following.
You found yourself standing next to Annie, who gave you a quick and, as far as you could tell, genuine smile before returning her attention to the tense conversation between Butcher and Stan Edgar. The former's voice had grown to a shout, somewhat ranting about a goose-chase for the bioweapon supposedly on this farm, the latter just watching with a cold, indifferent gaze.
“Are you done, Mr. Butcher?” Edgar’s voice betrayed no anger or fear; the only signs of emotion on his face his tightened lips and raised brows. “Because if you are, I would finally be able to share my plan to get us out of this hellhole you dug us.”
Butcher scoffed, but before he could call Edgar either a cunt or a twat—both seemed equally plausible at the moment—the stone-faced man continued.
“While I will be the first to admit that an error was made in regards to a possible weapon against Homelander, I could not call today a complete waste. After all, you introduced me to this… charming young woman. The Anomaly,” he turned to you, and a shiver ran up your spine as he used your supe name. “Is going to help us.”
“Uh,” you paled under the pressing eyes of your team. “No. I don’t, uh, I… no.”
“Yes. You will,” Edgar said. “The V variant you carry is Homelander’s attempt to duplicate the original, the one used on Soldier Boy. Most likely a good attempt. And though the original V was unstable and less than suitable in any practical means, it was potent. I do not think I would be wrong in guessing you are just as strong as Soldier Boy, and likely immortal as well.”
“No.” Annie cut it in. “If you’re going to suggest we use her as fucking bait, the answer is no.”
“I was not going to suggest that, Ms. January, why would I waste such a good product on sheep bait? I am proposing that she simply eliminate our issue. I hear sheep catch fire quite easily.”
Everyone was looking at you now. Waiting for you to step forward and say something, anything. But you were frozen, mouth slightly agape, a million scenarios playing out in your head. You saying yes, and failing to do anything but start a forest fire, the barn burning around you as everyone remained trapped inside. You saying no, and the sheep breaking in and eating everyone alive. You saying yes, but losing control and hitting someone, watching them burn to ash as they screamed. You saying no, and everyone just rotting away in the barn; you yourself unable to do the same. The silence hung in the room, taunt with the way breathing had become labored in your chest, and you thanked a god you didn’t believe in as Annie stepped forward.
“She can’t control it,” she told Edgar. “We’ve been working on it for months, and she’s gotten better, but she can’t. It’s more complicated than it usually is, and it’s new.”
“Well, then I guess we should start to pray she gets lucky. I simply will not die in a barn in Maine, and unless anyone else has a plan, I must insist we start moving. Before the structural integrity fails us, and we all become dinner.”
The room was quiet for another moment, Annie looking as if she wanted to argue, but MM spoke first, his voice laced with reluctance.
“He’s right. We don’t have time to come up with something better.” He sighed, turning to you. “You’re the best bet we’ve got.”
“Still a shit bet,” Butcher muttered.
You agreed.
But Edgar was right.
“Everyone will need to stay inside,” you said softly. “Even if it works, this could get… messy.”
Murmurs of agreement were made, and you turned to Kimiko. “You’re the strongest,” you told her. “You can open and close the door the fastest. Crack it open, I’ll run through, and slam it as fast as you fucking can.”
She nodded, moving to the barn's entrance. As she passed you, she paused, giving your arm a small squeeze and you a small smile before she continued. You smiled back, trying to ignore the flash of her anxiety running through you at the touch. Everyone else began to move to the opposite side, hiding pointlessly behind hay and barrels. Neuman paused, though, looking at you with an unreadable expression.
“Something calm,” was all she said before turning to follow Edgar.
Something calm.
City lights. Music. Cheap burgers and cheaper beer. Carefree smiles. Music.
You stood before the doors, giving Kimiko a small thumbs up. She raised her hand, fingers falling from five to four, from four to three.
Two.
One.
You sprinted forward, waited for the sound of a slam behind you, and let go.
The world lit up.
It felt like a hurricane was spilling out of you, like a part of you was being ripped out and launched away. You could see the fire, but not quite feel it. If anything a chill had set itself through your veins, your skin becoming flushed not from heat, but exhaustion. Already darkness was creeping into your eyes, the effort to control the flames splitting the sky taking a toll. It was like a volcano trying to control its eruption, if any of its magma was under the control of the mountain.
But you had to. You could pass out after; you could sleep for a hundred years, but right now you had to control it.
The blood and muck on your skin had been long seared off, the clothes on your back turning into foul-smelling smoke. Your job was long finished now, nothing but bone and sinew remaining of the sheep, but a new problem emerged.
You couldn’t stop. You were burning and burning and burning, and the feeling in your skin wasn’t dulling, but growing. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by pure adrenaline, yanking you up and up, away from relief.
Something calm, Neuman’s voice echoed in your head, and you closed your eyes, trying to hear that long-gone music and see those phantom lights.
It wasn’t working. And you were only getting closer to an edge, a drop into something you’d been so careful to avoid. It was eating you, pushing you further and further. You'd jump into the freezing water of the river but it would just evaporate. You’d bury yourself in the mud but it would just boil, feeding into itself.
Sing, a small part of you begged the rest. Just sing. No use hiding yourself if you’re dead.
You gave in, and began to hum. An empty tune, your voice on key but strained. Slowly, you felt yourself come to, your body returning to your control. You followed the song to the end, and as it ended, just before you collapsed on the ground, relief rushed through you. The fire had lingered, a saving grace from your song. You hadn’t felt any effects, with no hallucinations plaguing your vision before it went dark.
————
The first thing you realized when you woke up was that someone had moved you from the dirt to rest against a tree. The second was that you were no longer naked. Someone had apparently managed to find you clothes, and though they were itchy and a few sizes too big, you were still grateful. The third was that you smelled like shit. You had thought you were covered in blood before, but that now seemed as if it had been bubbles and floral perfume. One might have thought thoroughly barbecued sheep would’ve smelled at least tolerable. They would’ve been wrong. Because you were covered in what of it hadn’t dissipated into smoke, and you smelled like a dumpster full of rubber and fish.
The only person who would come near you was Frenchie, who had forsaken his sense of smell years ago, and had evidently dressed you and pulled you to where you currently sat. Everyone else stood closer to the fence, waiting for their ride back to New York to pull up on the dirt road. You sat alone, eyes still drooping, startled out of your own head as Edgar’s voice cut through the air.
“I must say, I am glad to see my faith in you was not misplaced.”
"Yeah, well,” you shrugged, looking up at where he stood, only a few feet away. “I wouldn’t ask for an encore.”
“I am afraid I may have to. In our prior introduction, it seems you deeply undersold your capabilities.”
“Forgive me, I didn’t have time for self-evaluation when I was being kept in a fucking dungeon.”
Edgar sighed. “I must apologize for that. Though I was not made aware of Homelander’s little escapade, I recognize that you might feel as though I hold some blame.”
“Not an apology,” you muttered. “And I find that hard to believe.”
“Unfortunate, but I cannot force you to accept the truth.” He looked you up and down once before continuing. “And regardless, it is not what I am here to say.”
“I was wrong only once today, and it was when I said you were just as strong as Soldier Boy. You are not. You are much, much stronger. Not physically, of course, but overall. Overall, your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s, surpasses Homelander’s. I know you wish him dead, I would imagine you prefer it to be painful, and very few deaths inflict the suffering felt when one is burned alive. I suggest you learn how to control your gift, and learn fast. You were looking for a weapon, and I am telling you that you are it. Do not waste yourself.”
And he walked away, leaving your mouth open and your eyes wide. You stood to follow him, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, but made only a few steps before you felt a rock hit your back, and you whipped around to find Frenchie behind you, holding a hose.
“Starlight suggests you take a shower before our drive back,” he said, gesturing to the hose.
You blinked, looking back at Edgar, only to watch him be loaded into an armed van. Your brow wrinkled, a part of you wanting to chase the car down and demand Edgar elaborate, but you just turned back to Frenchie with a sigh.
“Sure, just count down before you–“
You cut yourself off as the freezing water hit you in the face.
Thankfully, Frenchie had thought to bring a towel—a gross, possibly moldy towel—but a towel nonetheless, and he handed it to you the moment the hose-down was finished. As his arm stretched out, you noticed a deep gash poking out from his sleeve.
“I can fix that,” you gestured to him. “I mean, I’ll have to touch you, but I won’t tell anyone what I feel, and you won’t have to let MM give you stitches.”
Frenchies frowned, looking at his arm as if only he now noticing his injury. “Are you sure? You must be tired, and–“
“I’ll be fine. Won’t hurt me for more than a few seconds.”
He hesitated, but gave you a nod, rolling up his sleeve before offering his injury to you. You took a deep breath and placed your hand over the wound. It hit you fast, it always did, the onslaught of emotions. You were suddenly twice as tired, a powerful and painful guilt sitting on your shoulders and a self-loathing that was familiar, but not yours, carved itself into your chest. After a second to adjust, you started to work. Your own arm, mirror to Frenchies, began to sting as the skin turned raw and red. You bit your tongue, ignoring it and focusing on keeping yourself going until the cut was gone, the skin was healthy, and there were no signs of any issues in the first place.
“Huh,” Frenchie stated at his unmarked arm, glancing at your own, which was already fully healed itself. “Merci.”
“No problem,” you offered him a grin. “Just don’t tell Butcher you accepted my evil supe healing.”
“You do not,” he frowned slightly. “You do not feel everything, yes? Just, simple, children’s emotions?”
It was your turn to frown. “Children’s emotions?”
“Oui. Joy, fear, sadness. No more.”
Oh. You hesitated to answer, debating if it was worth the lie. It would make him feel better, you reasoned with yourself.
But he wouldn’t trust you, a little voice whispered. And he’ll hate you.
You settled on the truth. You didn’t think you could stand another person hating you.
“No, I feel… everything,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t lying before. I won’t tell anyone.” You paused, watching his face carefully as you continued. “I won’t tell Kimiko.”
A look of shock passed over his face, but Frenchie nodded. “Good. Good. Tres bien,” he gave you a grateful look. “Merci.”
“Anytime,” you gave him a close-lipped smile, and the two of you returned to your group just as your ride pulled up. As you loaded into the car and began the long, tense drive, Edgar’s words replayed on loop in your head.
Your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s, surpasses Homelander’s. Learn how to control your gift, and learn fast. Do not waste yourself.
Do not waste yourself.
You thought back to the last time you saw Homelander. Though it had been from a distance, and he had not even known you were there, your body had frozen. Fear, white-hot and all consuming, had coursed through you. You had almost passed out from it. If you had been face-to-face with him, it might have killed you all on its own.
Do not waste yourself.
You couldn’t fight Homelander. You just couldn’t. You could be capable of overpowering him tenfold, and you still wouldn’t be able to fight him. You knew, in your heart, that his eyes would meet yours and you would be sent right back into that tiny white room, feel his hands holding you down, feel that hollow, empty hopelessness leak from you into the air.
But he needs to die, a small voice whispered in your head. And you’re the Anomaly. You could kill him. You’re the only one who could stop him forever, make sure he never hurts anyone, ever again.
No. No, you couldn’t be the only one. Yes, the biochem weapon had been a bust, and no one else could possibly rival Homelander and come out of it alive. But there had to be other options.
Your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s.
Do not waste yourself.
An idea started to form in your head. A terrible idea. A reckless and dangerous idea. But an idea all the same. And as it became fully formed, you managed to convince yourself more and more that it might somehow work.
Now all you had to do was convince everyone else.
——-
“No. No fucking way.”
The air in the meeting room was tense, mouths hanging open in shock. MM was glaring at you with a disdain you had previously only seen directed at Butcher, Butcher watched at you with a reverence you hope to never see on his face again, Grace Mallory looked all at once disgusted, intrigued, and impressed, and President-Elect Singer frowned as he listened, but gave you a nod to continue regardless.
“I know it’s crazy, but the problem last time was that you couldn’t control him, right? And I could. You can have us isolated, making sure we're out of the public eye and away from any possible collateral until you need us. I’d keep an eye on him, keep him in line, and he wouldn’t be able to hurt me.”
“I, for one, think this is an amazing idea. Best one I ever heard,” Butcher grinned at you. “Worst case scenario, it goes sideways, he kills her, we knock him out, and everyone still wins.”
“What part of ‘he wouldn’t be able to hurt me’ don’t you understand?” You snapped back.
“What if he blasts you with his fucking reactor?” MM pushed. “Makes you just another human? What’s your plan then?”
“That wouldn’t work on me,” you responded dryly.
Butcher snorted, but Mallory raised an eyebrow.
“Really? What makes you so sure?”
“One of the tests that was run on me was putting me in a room and blasting it with nuclear energy. They dropped Hiroshima on me, and it did jack shit. Soldier Boy throwing a temper tantrum won’t be any different.”
“And how do you think you could control him?” Singer asked.
“I can burn up to 5500 degrees Celsius. That’s hotter than a bomb. Won’t kill him, will knock him the fuck out. And it’ll hurt.”
“I just can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner,” Butcher mused. “It’s fuckin' perfect.”
You glowered at him. “Stop helping me.”
MM looked at Mallory. “The fact that America’s number one unstable asshole,” he gestured to Butcher. “Is on board should be enough to tell you how stupid this is.”
“Number two unstable asshole,” you said under your breath.
“Thanks, Love,” Butcher winked at you.
“Yeah well, don’t be so pleased. You’re only just losing to Homelander.”
Butcher shrugged, and you returned your attention to Singer. “Sir, please trust me. I, more than almost anyone, know how dangerous this could be. But Homelander is more dangerous. We needed a weapon,” you echoed Edgar’s words. “This is it.”
Singer nodded slowly, and MM scoffed.
“You can’t be seriously considering this. He’s a fucking unstable asshole murderer and a goddamn liability. What if we wake him up, she can’t control him, and he gets free?”
“We said whatever it takes,” you snapped. “I wouldn’t be pitching this if I thought it wouldn’t work. I can control him, I promise.”
“You’d bet your life on it?” Mallory asked.
“My life?” You snorted. “In a heartbeat.”
Mallory sighed. “Then fine,” she shot a look to Singer. “I’ll sign off if you do.”
“Sir,” MM said, sounding almost desperate. “I am begging you, do not do this.”
Singer just shook his head slightly. “Desperate times, they make you do desperate things. If I saw another way, I’d take it, but for now we’ll have to make do. I approve the request.”
“Thank you, sir.” You gave Singer a grateful nod, ignoring the searing feeling of MM’s anger.
“Don’t thank me, girl. If this goes south, it’s your head. Grace, set up a safe house for them ASAP, if I’m signing off on this I want it moving fast.”
Mallory nodded. “It’ll take a few days. We’ll have to transport him there before we wake him up.”
“Do whatever you have to,” Singer said as he stood to leave. “If this is our only shot, we can’t afford to miss.”
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Meeting with your parents is the only thing that has been on his mind for the past few days. He was worried that he might mess it up and leave a bad impression on them; but now that he is sitting in front of your dad? He smiles to the man thinking to himself how he was worried for nothing.
Your dad continues talking about his favorite soccer team which turned out to be your boyfriend's as well, and he plays along, mentioning the last match of them that had him shouting and cussing at the TV.
Yeah he can definitely do this; every Saturday night at your parents' house, all family gathered around the table, with him included. He knows he has your father's blessing when he wants to propose. Maybe he will even call him before doing so, to be respectful and be the ideal son in law he deserves to have.
Everything has been going so smooth, so amazing, he's got it under control; and then, you come in the living room and ruin it all.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?" "Yes?"
Shit.
A huge blush spreads over his face as his eyes widen with shock, not attempting to look at your dad's face.
You. Just. Said. Daddy. And. He. Answered.
In. Front. Of. Your. Dad.
And for some reason, you're blushing harder than him.
"I- I just needed some help with the lamp because it seems to be broken but never mind. E-Enjoy yourselves"
Yeah, they definitely will.
He doesn't want to face your dad at the moment. No. He actually wants to be murdered. He wants the ground to swallow him whole. He wants a bullet to break through the window and pierce through his scalp. There are no words capable of describing how bad he wants to die at the moment.
But after waiting a few seconds nothing happens; no sign of bullets or a mass murderer with a huge chainsaw. Even the earth is double crossing him. You running into the kitchen without looking back is not really helping either. It's just him and your dad, who has been weirdly silent since "that" happened.
Miserably, he turns his face toward your dad, looking into his eyes that are filled with something he can't really name, but knows that isn't a good thing.
Maybe your father would be so kind and do the murderers job for him.
"Sir, I can explain" "Please, don't"
DAZAI (😭😭), Kunikida, CHUUYA, TACHIHARA, Tanizaki, RANPO, NIKOLAI, SIGMA, Hinata, KAGEYAMA, Yamaguchi, Daichi, ASAHI, SUGA, KUROO, ATSUMU, SUNA, Iwaizumi, OIKAWA, GOJO, Megumi, Itadori, SUKUNA, Todo, Zenitsu, INOSUKE, MELLO, VANITAS
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thatsexcpisces · 1 year
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Astrology observations pt.9 🌌💙🌀🦋
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Disclaimer: again, these are just my experiences and personal observations on things I’ve encountered, I’m not a professional astrologer or saying that these are always correct.
Virgo risings have such a naturally beautiful “clean girl” look or are a perfect example of the “clean girl” aesthetic
Gemini and Pisces mercuries have a true talent when it comes to lying. They’re amazing of thinking quick on their feet or making up lies to get out of something because their excuses are so damn CREATIVE
I’ve noticed that almost every Pisces moon has puppy dog eyes. (Especially the men) It’s so easy for me to spot Pisces moons or other water moons because they just have these adorable doe eyes or their eyes look like those of lost puppies idk how to explain it💀 this is specifically something I see the most in cancer and Pisces moons, Scorpio moon’s eyes are also “puppy dog” but more intense.
Ex.) Michael Jackson, kanye west, and Ben stiller all have their moon in Pisces and they just have THAT look. Yk what I mean?? 💀
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Capricorn Venus/Venus in 10h house people tend to kiss up to those who are popular or have some sort of prominent status because they want to be around people they think will make them look good
People with the same element of their rising sign tend to become friends or attract each other.
• For example, earth risings May tend to attract friends or become friends that have earth rising top. (Cap, Virgo, Taurus rising.) I’m a Libra rising and my closest friends have usually been other Libra risings and Aquarius risings.
People with Virgo in the big 3 are goody two- shoes
Most Libra moons I’ve met have luxurious or comfortable home lives like they may have a good relationship with their family and are the type to have an aesthetic home routine (ex. My friend has a Libra moon and her family always bakes together or they sit and watch a movie together at their mountain house and drink hot chocolate & shit like that lmao)
Pluto in 2h people truly are obsessed with their money and possessions. As someone with this placement myself, I can say that the most Pluto 2h thing I did was hide even the smallest amounts of money in the most secretive places so they wouldn’t be stolen, not sleep unless I found that necklace or top that I realized went missing, and literally got in the faces of people who owed me money until I got that shit back😭
why do so many sun in Scorpio men get rejected so much by girls😭 this is just something I noticed but most of them tend to feel unlucky in love either cause they’re very active pursuers when they’re interested in someone and sometimes come off a bit too strong and then they end up feeling insecure abt themselves after getting shut down by their love Interests. They’re so hot tho
Venus-Neptune aspect people: how’s it going idealizing and fantasizing about your crush that are really not as amazing as you’re making them seem?
Scorpio Venus people’s flirting style is staring at you intensely but not approaching you or saying anything
Leo risings and moons would rather swallow a jean jacket and DIE then to have people see them at their worst or see that stuff they’ve been bragging about and “good stuff” happening in their life that they talk about to people to impress them and be popular, is not actually true or happened lol. They’re always keep that perfect image of themselves to others
Capricorn risings have this face where it looks like they literally couldn’t care less about you or anything you’re saying. Or they just look bored of being in your presence and wanna leave
Don’t piss of a Gemini moon. They take revenge through their biggest strength: gossiping and then spreading that shit. They’ll have the whole building hate you a day later over some rumor they made up of you and managed to convince others is true
If you have Venus in your 12th house you’re gonna go through many karmic relationships in your life time
Libra risings can be the darkest or shittiest people on the inside but that Venus-ruled aura or just their looks or the way they carry themselves will literally make people delusional into thinking they’re an angel on earth
Pisces in big 3 culture is being told “why is your head always in the clouds? ” or “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Constantly because those daydreams will literally get the best of them
Aquarius And Capricorn men when they were younger give me the vibes of those nerds in school who literally don’t care what anyone thinks and won’t have an issue calmly roasting or talking back to a bully but would never be able to physically fight them instead they just use sarcastic and monotone sentences to win. 💀
Fixed sign moons especially Scorpio moons attract so many people who are possessive and obsess over them
If a Sagittarius moon feels betrayed by you or is angry with you to the point that you did something they can’t ever forgive, they won’t bother getting revenge or being upset and shady with you. They will simply just erase your existence from their life and forget about you. They can still act nice and behave normally with you but that’s only because they master indifference and the concept of acting like you just came and left, which will hurt you the most.
I swear Mercury in the 5h or 8h people house think about sex on a daily basis omg
Aquarius and Sagittarius Venuses always attract each other somehow. They’re a good pairing
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The world of scavengers reign is a world of pure mutualism. The show never asks “should we isolate ourselves from nature or connect with it” because that’s a false question; there is nothing BUT connection, there is no form of life outside of the ecosystem. Whether they can see it or not, every character becomes part of the planet the second they touch down.
The question then is what their connections will look like: if it will be mutually beneficial, parasitic towards one side or the other, or harmful to both.
I’ve seen people read Kaimen and hollow’s relationship as either kaimen “corrupting” hollow or hollow “manipulating” kaimen. But the truth is their relationship is just a noxious, unstable feedback loop. Neither party is really “in control”, they’re following the guidelines of an evolved relationship that was never meant for creatures as large and emotionally complex as humans to be part of. It’s the same process that occurs with the introduction of any invasive species: simple relationships shift in unstable ways, niches swap places and gain unexpected importance, and the health of the whole ecosystem is put in jeopardy through the lack of sustainability. The truth is that the strange, lovecraftian nightmare Kaimen and hollow create together is bad for BOTH parties. It’s the worst case scenario of the introduction of humanity onto the planet; not humanity “corrupting” some ideal, static image of perfect nature, but the relationship between the two making things worse for everyone.
It’s why one to stop Kaimen/hollow has to be Levi. Whose mutual relationship with the fungus in their circuitry has created something new and beautiful. Something we see has LONG TERM affects on the planet itself with the little baby planet Levis now growing from the flowers. This isn’t the case of nature “claiming” Levi. This is a collaboration, a partnership, something that utterly transforms both sides. It really seems like the death flowers form in some way the “mind” of the whole planet. And Levi has given that mind the artificial circuitry to think on a far higher and more active level than it was ever able to previously. It’s why hollow wasn’t able to control them. Trying to wrangle levis mind is like trying to hold a whole planet in your hands. Something wild and new and beautiful has been created here.
But these transformation can be scary! Sam’s fight with the parasite, paired with his prior skepticism at trying to “understand” the planet the way Ursula was, leaves him unable to adapt. Forced to either lose himself in the process of assimilation, or die separated from it. And again, the show doesn’t take for granted that these mutual connections are “good”. They’re necessary. Sam cannot live separate from nature. But for him, that death was still better than allowing it to change him so fundamentally. His strong willed nature makes him unable to let go the way Levi or Kaimen do, and the result is he doesn’t experience good OR bad results. He’s to brittle to allow for change. He simply ceases.
And so they you have Ursula and Azi. Who are both forced to learn and grow with the planet. Forced to follow the flow of nature even when it takes them places they don’t quite want to be. While at the same time finding little ways to exert their own agency, to not get swept away in the tide. And it’s a complicated balance. One that takes constant effort and isn’t guaranteed to end how they want. But they still have to do it. Because there’s nothing but connection.
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ornii · 5 months
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“I Do not love you, …I Tolerate You.”
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Daenerys Targaryen X Male Lannister Reader
(Y/n) Lannister, King of House Lannister, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, and the Father of Golden Lions, Mourning the Death of his Love, an unknown force calls claim to the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons.
Warning: Hey, you like thighjobs? No? Well too bad we got them!
Kings Landing, the final destination for kings and queens to either rule or die trying. For you it was the first, but it came with much loss.
Being born a Lannister you had some obligations to uphold, son of an Imp, you had much to live up to and deal with. But more importantly, you had fallen for one woman specifically.. Margery. Unlike Tommen and Joffrey, you weren’t as Naive and Foolish as them, Tyrion made sure of that. Teaching you the way the game of thrones is played was essential to survive in this world. She respected your opinions, ideals, wishes. Her Marriage to Joffrey was one of necessity, yours was out of love. A love that was quickly shattered and burned by one Cersei Lannister.
Joffrey was Murdered, Your father Tyrion put on trial, and in return he escapes, Kills your grandfather Tywin, and escapes. Leaving Tommen to pick up the pieces, Tyrion was never seen in Kings Landing again. Still keeping your relationship a secret you continued your affairs, but it only had gotten worse, the Sparrows using their holy influence to capture Margery, Tommen, nothing but a mere child in the mind did nothing, and his Mother Cersei was also taken, her plan backfiring. You only wished that was the end of the nightmare.
Cersei executes a plan that lead to the explosion of the Sept, killing Margery, her brother, The High Sparrow and so many more. Your cousins, Grandfather, Father, and now your Love, all gone. All of that set in motion your path to the crown, forming the Golden Roar rebellion you overthrew Cersei and took the Iron Throne as your own, it didn’t take much of course, using your connection to the people you exposed her true nature, and her actions. The people rebelled, you rebelled, it was perfect. With all obstacles moved, you now have the power to change everything, to change the world, but one obstacle stood left; The Last Targaryen.
Sitting upon your iron throne, and Gregor at your side, you listened to the concerns of not only nobles but of the people. They were small at best, tedious. It wasn’t until your kings guard, your Uncle Jamie knelt down to slightly whisper.
“There is something I must speak to you about when time is available.”
“Is it important?” You asked calmly, your eyes darting to him. Jamie nodded, it was rare your uncle often spoke during your court. You ended the proceeding for now and walked to the high chambers with your uncle.
“It’s about—“ Jamie began but you had an idea of what he was going to ask.
“As I have said before uncle, I shall not Kill Aunt Cersei, as much as she deserves it.. I made that promise to you, I intend to keep it. She will be locked away. And when I have complete control, you can live out your days with her in Casterly Rock.” You said, while your blood boiled at the idea of Cersei living, for your uncle who treated you as equal, you honored your promise.
“No, House Tarly might consider to support the Targaryen.” He began, you knew about Her, but you didn’t care at the time. You picked up your pace, trying to focus and Jamie kept up.
“Really now?” You asked intrigued.
“They’re the only house that has not claimed loyalty, and if we lose their house—“
“We might have a problem.” You finish the statement for him. “We had the Tyrell’s but Cersei made sure of that.. although.” You slowly had an idea coming together, Jamie halted in his footsteps as a smirk crept on your face.
“We won’t need the Tyrells… if the False Queen truly wishes to take the throne. Then I should at least hear the woman out..” You said, admittedly you wished to see this last living Targaryen. Stepping into your bedchamber you overlooked Kings Landing, the debt slowly being pushed down, people attempting to rebuild after the sept, all your doing. And if this Targaryen Pureblooded Freak wished to take this from you, then she must kill you in order to take it. Your mind wandered until you stepped out to the balcony, enjoying the warm air, smells of earth and rock, but something else caught your attention.. something was moving across the horizon of the ocean.
Standing on the massive port gate of Kings Landing, You, Ser Jamie, Maester Quburn stood at the port, watching ships slowly enter, but they were not yours. They belonged to the Greyjoys. Standing with soldiers surrounding and arrows ready to massacre the platoons, you wait. They dock and descend out, and your eyes laid upon Euron Greyjoy, the sadistic cold bastard of what’s left of the Greyjoys, that shit eating grin was unsettling, as if he had some master plan for you. He gave a fake bow and kept his sly eye on you.
“My King.” He said, having your hands behind your back you calmly raised your hand, and placed your fingers down, allowing the archers to put their bows down.
“You must be, Euron.” You said, what could a Greyjoy Possibly want here?”
“It’s a simple request, although I expected the queen to be greeting me.” He replies, look around slowly, as if to expect Cersei.
“Unfortunately she’s been.. replaced. Allow me to welcome you and your men to kings Landing, Respect our Laws and you shall be respected in kind.” You offer him to walk with you, and he does.
“Your business here must be important if you wished to speak with me.” You look around, noting that there are still arrows trained on Euron, for your safety after all.
“Yes, what I ask requires some.. finesse. Finesse only the true king of Westeros would have.” Euron plays it up, but you knew better and cut though his words.
“What would you wish?” You reply, entering the throne room you said. “How would.. command over the waters of All Westeros sound?” He said, you halted, and slowly went up the stairs, ascending to a higher position than him. You sit down upon the throne, gently placing your hands together.
“I have the power to give this, but why would I give it to you, a Greyjoy in fact.. I gain, nothing.” You explain, and Euron snaps his fingers laughing.
“You see that is where you are wrong, my king. My loyalty, I will swear to you, and the entire Greyjoy fleet will be yours to command at your demand, all I ask is reign over the waters.”
“That is an imposing proposal.. but how do I know you will keep your word?” You reply, and Euron grins. “I have a.. gift.”
Minutes pass as you sit in your Throne, Jamie by your side waiting. Hoping this “Gift” will be of some worth. And it was, the doors open to Euron and his men, having three women captured and tied like cattle to follow. You looked at them, while two were from Dorne, the other wasn’t. Jamie gripped his saber hilt with his good hand. You noticed the shift in his emotion, and tilted your head.
“I believe these women are from Dorne.. why do you have them?” You asked, you vaguely recognize one as Oberon’s lover.
“This is Ellaria and Tyene Sand.. your Cousins Killers.” Euron smiles, presenting a good gift, your eyes slowly filled with malice and hate, a feeling you’ve only ever truly felt a few times in life. The feeling came back with a vengeance and you calmly but somehow with boiling fury stood up and walked down the stairs, you calmly approached Ellaria her eyes were wary off course, you were a Lannister unknown, meaning you were unpredictable.
“Ellaria sand… for your daughter’s Sake, tell the truth.. did you kill my cousin Marcella?” You whispered so coldly and raspy into her ear, like a growling lion before he pounces and tears apart zebras flesh. You watched her quiver, heavy breathing, and in the last moments of reality she nodded, confirming the truth. You took a step back and bit your lip to keep from showing tears. “The Cell.. all of them.” You gave the shallow order and the guards took them away. You could care less about the last one and allowed her to be taken away as well. Sitting back on your throne you looked to Euron, and gave the nod.
“The seas.. are yours.”
It had been a Week since Eurons reign, and all was calm, until you had an unexpected visitor, standing at the gates of Kings Landing with your men and council, you watched as an army of Unsullied and Dothraki approach, you couldn’t make out anyone you knew and prepared to rain Wildfire on them, but someone’s presence was well known, you heard the intense roar and the echo of massive wings in the sky, you saw the dragon, the most powerful beings in Westeros, they land on the ground. And its blood red eyes looked at you, admittedly a wave of fear hit you.
“Quburn.. are the Dragon Slayers reader?” You asked.
“Ready to launch, my King.” He replies, you sigh with relief and then watched a tiny figure step from the army.
“..Father?” You said, almost speechless. Tyrion approached, looking older, more stern. You signaled to let him in.
Sitting across from each other inside a Tent. You didn’t have much to say to him, even after all these years.
“You.. did it.” Tyrion said, seeing his son as king was, an unreal feeling. “You achieved greatness, as I always expected. Besides you’re half of me, so you should have.”
“Amusing father.. but, are you truly with this woman?”
“She.. has a vision for Westeros I simply cannot allow to go to the wayside, besides this place needs someone willing to show mercy instead of the blade.” Tyrion responds, you could somewhat understand his predicament.
“I suppose, but I won’t allow my throne to be taken by some Targaryen child. I will lead Westeros to peace, and she can go back to ruling whatever sand hill she wishes, as long as it isn’t on my soil.”
“That.. may not be your soil for much longer.” Tyrion quips, your eyes glare at him as he sips his wine.
“Not by us, the Winter.. the cold.. the undead. They’re real, and it seems their plan is to go from the wall and destroy along. Westeros, it would not be long before they raid Kings Landing..”
You consider your father’s words carefully, if this is true. Then the Queen of Dragons isn’t your main focus. “Is there a way to stop them?” You ask.
“Dragons glass and fire, that seems to be our only two, unfortunately the Queen lost one to the White Walkers. If we’re to survive and surpass this darkness, you and the Queen must come to an understanding and work together.”
“I.. see..” You rubbed your chin, truly considering all of this. “And where is the Queen?”
“Winterfell.”
“I can spare twenty thousand Men, leave a few here to run while I go.” You said, standing up you look out to the army still awaiting.
“May your return back to your Queen be swift father.. but know that when this is done, you must choose a side.” You left your father with those parting words, and Made way for The North.
Entering Winterfell felt like a death sentence, you felt eyes all over you, knowing at any moment you could be swarmed and killed, thankfully your army surrounded the rest of Winterfell, so a siege would immediately commence if you were killed. Standing in the Great Hall, you were gazed upon by Many house, and sitting at the center of the table was none other that the Queen, Denreyes Targaryen. You have a bow of courtesy.
“Your Grace, my father informed me of the.. issue we’re facing, this night king, these.. white walkers. They’re a plague slowly burrowing into the heart of Westeros, and it would take us all to stop them, so I fully intend to lend aid.” You said, it was silent besides a few Murmurs, some surprised you came here, others surprised you’re actually helping, Lannisters are usually selfish.
“Your help will be paramount to stopping this invasion. And I suppose the terms of your surrender was spoke about as well?”
“Apologies but I have no intent to surrender..” you reply, and smile. “A beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself should know I am not here to surrender but to lend aid. We can discuss the throne when we know there will be a throne left.”
It was silence in the room now, and before Dany could say something she bit her tongue to keep it. “Understandable.. we shall discuss this when ample time is available. Please, enjoy Winterfell for the time being.” Her words sounded kind, but obviously it had a hint of malice behind it, knowing better you didn’t call her out, and simply went to your bedchambers. Walking along the frozen planks of Winterfell you felt unease, as if someone was watching you. You hit a corner and kept up the pace, knowing someone was there. As you turned the corner you prepared to face your chaser, you stepped out to attack but, no one was there. Something was wrong, but unfortunately it was too late.
You felt the cold steel against your neck and the abrupt grip of a hand around your wrist. Death was mere moments away, but it didn’t come, a voice came from behind you.
“Still too slow for your own good.” It said, it may have been years since you’ve seen her, but you recognized that voice from anywhere.
Arya.
“Always too slow for you.” You replied in jest and the cold steel was removed, you sigh and turn around to see her, she’s taller now and, you couldn’t help but notice that she’s a full fledged woman now. You met Arya when her Sister and Father were taken to Kings Landing, she had this tomboyish attitude that made you adore her, always being so friendly and practicing her fighting skills even as a girl, and now you both had grown up.
“You look..” you started, your eyes going up and down and back into her eyes.
“Scary?” She responds
“Amazing.” You said, she had a sly grin and gave you a playful poke with her finger. “And you look like a real king now.”
“I try.” You respond, “Arya.. about Kings Landing—“ you start but she stops you.
“You saved me when you made me leave when my father was killed, if not I’d end up like Sansa, your family isn’t you.” She said to you, so earnest and kind. That weight was taken off your shoulder. You nodded and Arya walks past you.
“I’ll see you soon. I’m sure you, have a lot deal with.” With those words Arya parted. You watched her leave, and the curves she developed would make a man’s steel resolve melt. You shook your head and pressed forward, entering the room you took a step in, and closed the door behind you, unfortunately you weren’t the only one in the room, Daenerys. She sat in your chair, as if she was awaiting your arrival.
“That did not take you long.” You said, ready to debate.
“Your presence has made it an issue with the northerners, not only do they question my rule as Queen of the North because of Jon, but so does yours.” She clenched her jaw slightly and you chuckled. You calmly removed your cape. You noticed the bottle of wine on the counter and didn’t hesitate to take it.
“Stop clenching your jaw. It’s bad for your teeth darling, you’re too pretty to lose your teeth now.” You calmly placed your cape on the table and approached to sit across from her.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“Your Grace flattered has gotten me into a lot of things, thankfully one is the throne.” You gently combed back your hair, looking into her eyes, She was ferocious like a dragons, but also a merciful side. They were.. beautiful.
“Well I hope your flattery will work against the Night King and his horde of undead.” She obviously has a chip on her shoulder to say the least, a chip you intend to knock off.
“I doubt, he doesn’t seem the type to be swept off his cold decrepit feet.” You tapped the table, just to annoy her. “I say a good dagger to the heart does the same thing, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I suppose it does. I am.. surprise you came.” She admits, you raised an eyebrow.
“You think of me as a liar?” You asked, She didn’t want to say yes but obviously you had your answer, your smirk fades and you calmly sit up, you popped the cork off the bottle and took a swig of it.
“I am nothing, if not a man of my word, and I came here to fight them myself as well. I said I would, so I would. And so you would know I truly mean it when I said.. I would Marry you and Make you Queen Denyeres Targaryen, you wouldn’t have to take my last name.” You meant every word, you offered the bottle of wine to Deny, she stared at it for a moment and took it for a drink of it. A warm smile was already on your face, hours of talking and drinking left you two actually getting along.
“You have no idea, it’s fucking cold, I hate it here, everyone cannot understand why I deserve the throne because I dont have a cock between my legs.” Deny rants on, and you slip up and said, “You could use mine.” You blurted out, jokingly but, she didn’t see it as a joke. She tilts her head a way that make you shutter a bit. You saw a sly smirk creep along her face.
“Is that a true request?” She asked you. You blinked a few times and decided why not and took the risk. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just put it between your thighs.” You shrugged and watched Dany stand up, slowly unblocking her lower garments. You watched her smooth legs for show and an eyes trail upwards to what’s between her legs. A soft slightly trimmed bush, the blood stopped rushing to your head and to your dick. Kings Landing didn’t Lack whores and women, but something about Dany felt fresh, and desire burned. She giggled, seeing your thousand yard gaze at her privates. She knelt down, her soft legs stroking your thighs, and looking into your eyes. “Am I.. going to have to take them off myself?” She said, and you shook you head, gripping your trousers and pushed them down, and Dany got an eyeful of the Lions Tail.
“It’s… wow.” Dany was taken aback, but didn’t hesitate, she turned around, and plopped right on your lap, her bare ass brushing against your legs, she gently opens her legs and watched your dick fly up and softly slapped her couch. A dumbfounded giggle comes from her and she closes her legs. “So.. this is what it feels like.”
“It feels, amazing.” You leaned your head back, her soft thighs brushing and warmly gripping your dick. And softly moving around. It was mostly a Slightly Drunk Dany moving her legs around to play with her “Kings Cock.” Once it brushed against her crotch and a sensation catches her off guard. It felt good, and she wanted more. Dany placed her hands on the chair’s armrest to balance herself as she motions around, her breathing getting deeper and softer, the sensation you were feeling was something beyond imagination. Your hands gripped her waist to assist her.
“This is.. better than… i expected..” panting, Dany leaned her head back, and your hands slipped up her shirt, you slid your hands up, feeling her soft supple breasts underneath her. You leaned in, planting soft but deep kisses along her neck and it drove the Dragon Queen, a soft pinch of her nipple, a deep kiss on her neck. Her moaning filled the room, and you decided to give the dragon Queen what she deserved. Adjusting your cock you pressed against her pussy.
“Now, slide~” you held her body so warmly.
“Y-Yes~” she whines in your ear.
“Yes.. What?~” you replied.
“Yes.. my King~” she gasped, and with his Queens request you gently lowered her down on it, you felt your dick immediately get swallowed by warmth and wetness. Her gasp and deep moan signaled that she’s ready, you wrapped your arm around her waist and held onto the arm of the chair thrusting upward, you were stronger than her, making it easy to handle her body around with each punch and thrust, she bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling in pleasure.
“D-Dany.. you feel so.. fucking good! You squeezed tighter around her, the hot and sweat bending off your bodies hit the hard wood floor, which creaked slightly as you rammed your dick inside her.
“Damn you… for being so good!~” Dany let out a heavy groan. You felt the clenching of her walls on your cock, trying to drain it. You let her have it, bucking like a horse, making Dany bounce. “Fuck!” You held her waist, letting your seed erupt from the tip and into the air tight hold her pussy had on your cock. You watched her body stiffen up and her legs quiver as she has an actual orgasm. Panting, Dany leans back against you, panting, didn’t know what to say.
“Was that.. your first Orgasm?” You asked
“My.. First what?” She asked, still a bit confused of what she just felt, you laughed, softly putting your arms around her as she rested.
“.. So, you must love me now.” You say jokingly, “To have sex with me when you’ve barely known me for a day.”
Dany realized how it looked, and scoffed.
“I don’t.. I don’t love you, I.. Tolerate you.” She replied.
“Oh, well when we marry.. you can tolerate me like this for years.” You joke and snuggle up with her, Dany didn’t have the energy to argue with you, feeling your hot sweet pour down her leg. She thought to herself that yes.
She can tolerate you.
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metalhoops · 2 years
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People debate if Eddie or Steve would say ‘I love you’ first, but I propose an alternative perspective where they both say it long before they start dating and confuse the hell out of everyone, including themselves. 
Almost dying could put your life into perspective. 
When Eddie awoke in his hospital bed with his uncle at his side and the late afternoon light shining through the window blinds, he was struck with the kind of death-bed revelation reserved for men sentenced to dangle from gallows or grit worn teeth down the muzzle of guns. He was alive, despite the assumed certainty of his death hours or days before. 
Eddie let Wayne hold him, despite how much it hurt because the pain reminded him he was alive, that he’d made it out on the other side. Without thought, Eddie told Wayne he loved him. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he couldn’t remember the last time it’d happened. 
They were long past the first few tumultuous years when Eddie had moved in with Wayne. Where they’d tiptoed around each other and waited with bated breath for their shared peace to go wrong. Eddie hadn’t been used to living in a household where he didn’t have to walk on eggshells to get by and Wayne wasn’t used to looking after himself, let alone a kid. 
They’d since found their rhythm, but it wasn’t often either man voiced their affections. Wayne showed his love. He didn’t speak it. That was just the way he was. Eddie didn’t share the man’s reservations, not anymore. His adolescents was a wave that had long since crested, and all care for others’ opinions had been thrown out the window. He wasn’t shy with his love, but his proximity to death made him reckless with it. 
When Dustin appeared at his bedside not long after, looking as though he were staring down a spectre, Eddie knew he had to do something. He leaned over, ruffled Dustin’s hair and told the kid everything was going to be okay, that he loved him. 
When the whole mess had died down and Eddie was able to come out of hiding, he showed up in Gareth’s garage at the usual time for band rehearsal. He was bombarded by a mess of limbs and an earful of questions. He told them his well-practised lie then muttered how glad he was to be back, how much he loved those stupid sons of bitches, because he did and they should know it. He’d never told them that before. 
What Eddie hadn’t expected was to fall fast and hard for Steve Harrington. Eddie wasn’t one for fast affection or grand romantic ideals. He had his head firmly attached to his shoulders, thank you very much. He knew fast love was just infatuation. You were falling for the idea of a person, not the real deal.
He knew it was stupid and yet at seeing Steve sprawled out on the floor of his trailer, in front of their shitty Philips Color TV, his usually styled hair mussed, Eddie thought he loved him, which was a terrible thought because it meant Eddie had to tell him. 
Steve was straight, and Eddie had only known him for two months. Sure, they’d floated past each other in high school, but that wasn’t this Steve. The Steve he loved. It was pathetic. Eddie was well aware. All the same, when he caught Steve’s curious brown eyes, he knew he’d have to tell him. Nothing good would come of it, but he was sick of leaving things unsaid. After all, he could die tomorrow. 
“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, appearing blissfully ignorant of Eddie’s inner turmoil. 
“Nothing, I’m just glad you’re here. I love you, man.” 
Eddie spoke before his brain had the time to think through his actions. He tacked on a haphazard ‘man’, as though it lessened the severity of the statement. Eddie had never called anyone ‘man’ in his life- who the hell was he? 
“Oh, yeah. Me too,” Steve mumbled absentmindedly, laying back down and looking at the TV as the commercials came to an end. He was so cool and unbothered. 
Eddie was sure he’d taken his confession as a platonic one, which was what he’d hoped for. He’d got it off his chest, but it wasn’t going to screw up the good thing they had going. What he didn’t know was the meaning behind Steve’s response, ‘me too’ what? Was he glad he was with Eddie or...? 
“I love you too, Munson. I can hear the cogs ticking from over here and I want to watch the movie. You got me invested now,” Steve grumbled, returning his attention to the fantasy film Steve had no right to be as emotionally invested in as he was. 
“Have I got you invested or has Tom Cruse in chain mail got you invested?” Eddie joked, pushing his luck as he felt Steve lean over to smack his shoulder, mumbling ‘asshole’, under his breath. 
What Eddie hadn’t expected was for it to become a habit. Sure, he made a point of telling Wayne, Corroded Coffin and his band of misfit children he loved them when the mood struck, but with Steve, it somehow became a daily occurrence, what floored him most was that Steve was the one who started it. 
The next time they saw each other was when Eddie went to grab a movie from the Family Video store. At least that was the excuse he’d given to see Steve again. He chatted with Steve and Buckley before grabbing whatever caught his eye in the horror section and was about to head out with an overdramatised bow and salute when Steve smirked and mumbled, ‘love you, Munson,’ before his eyes widened in alarm. He caught Robin’s hawklike gaze shifting between them as she choked on a days-expired potato chip. 
“I meant... see you, Munson,” Steve amended awkwardly. Eddie shrugged his shoulders, practically preening at the slip of the tongue. He liked how Steve said it. Something about it felt special. 
“Love you too, Stevie,” he called as he turned to retreat to the safety of his van, not wanting to witness whatever can of worms he’d opened between Steve and Buckley. 
That was all it took to form a habit. He would spend the night at Steve’s place since the guy's parents had been MIA for months, and as the two went to part ways Steve would take one look at Eddie’s beaten-up van and mumble, ‘drive safe you idiot, love you,’ and a smile would threaten to split Eddie’s face in two. ‘love you too, jerk’. For a while, it was a tradition reserved for the two of them. Robin had to bear witness to the brunt of the love confessions, as Eddie would visit them at work, but in many ways, Steve saw Robin as an extension of himself, so for the most part, it was just between them. 
That was until Steve showed up to band practice. Eddie had offhandedly mentioned the time and location of their rehearsals in the hopes that one day Steve would show up. When he did Eddie was over the moon. He was halfway through a killer guitar solo when the familiar BMW Beamer pulled up the drive. With the rest of his bandmates promptly forgotten, Eddie lay his Warlock gently in his case (because no matter how absentminded the guy was he still cared about that damn guitar like a kid) then ploughed forward to meet Steve at the mouth of the garage. 
“Stevie, you came.” 
Eddie was too excited at the prospect of Steve watching him play. Music, along with D&D, was his creative outlet. It said everything his tongue couldn’t articulate and he had a lot he wanted to say to Steve.
Anyone who knew Eddie knew he was excitable and theatrical. He didn’t know how to do things in half measures. His bandmates shouldn’t have been surprised when Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s midsection, picked him up and spun him in several dizzy circles, only setting him down when they almost tumbled ass backwards over Gareth’s drum set. 
Eddie may have witnessed Steve try that move on Wheeler years before, but he’d deny it if anyone asked. Steve made the act seem easy and graceful. With Eddie at the helm, it was a chaotic jumble of limbs. While Steve gripped onto the man’s arm for dear life, not used to being manhandled, though by the fitful gasps of laughter that escaped his lips at the motion, Eddie noted he wasn’t opposed to it. When the two broke apart, Eddie felt his bandmates' watchful eyes on them, all sharing twin looks of confusion. 
“You’re going to break something, dumbass,” Steve grumbled as he smoothed over his hair and bowed his head to hide the blush from his cheeks.
Eddie tried to carry on with the rehearsal as usual, but he’d admit he added some peacocking for Steve’s benefit, not that the boy seemed to mind. Steve watched from one of Gareth’s bean bag chairs. It wasn’t his type of music, Eddie knew that, but the guy still watched enamoured. 
When the band was finished for the day, Steve managed to make small talk with the other boys when a thought struck Eddie. 
“What are you doing after this, Steve? The boys and I are having a movie marathon at my place. Want to hang out?” Steve blinked owlishly, surprised to be invited to what appeared to be a ‘band-only deal’. That wasn’t exactly true. Sometimes Jeff’s girlfriend or Grant’s brother would join them, once Gareth had even invited a guy over. Eddie had never done it, but there was a first time for everything. 
“I could do a movie night. I’ve gotta pick up Dustin from the Byers first, though, so I’ll meet you there,” Steve reasoned, and Eddie nodded, knowing Dustin came first. The little guy had weaselled his way into Steve’s heart and there was no way Eddie would ask him to forget the kid. Dustin had Eddie wrapped around his little finger as well, the brat.  
“Alright, meet you there. Love you, Stevie.” 
“Love you too.” The words rolled off Steve’s tongue easily as breathing. 
Left in Steve’s wake was utter chaos from the rest of the Corroded Coffin members. 
“Dude, why didn’t you tell us you were dating Steve Harrington?” Gareth berated, knocking Eddie’s shoulder roughly. 
“Seriously? What the hell, man? I never would’ve called that,” Jeff added before Eddie could get a word in edge-wise. 
“Wait, I’m lost, Harrington’s gay now?” Grant muttered, looking between the other boys. His bandmates knew Eddie was gay, but they’d definitely pulled the rest out of their asses. 
“I didn’t tell you because we’re not, and he’s not. Far as I’m aware. Can you guys drop it before we get back to mine? Steve doesn’t know I am and I’m planning on keeping it that way, thanks.” All three boys looked at Eddie as though he’d grown a third head. 
“But you guys were aggressively flirting,” Gareth argued. 
“You said you loved each other,” Jeff added. 
“Yeah, but I tell you guys I love you,” Eddie argued. 
“Definitely not like that and if you did, I’d be trying to work out how to let you down gently because Eds you’re firmly in the brother zone,” Gareth reasoned, playing with his drum kit. 
After that day, Eddie thought he should use his ‘I love yous’ more sparingly with Steve. Sooner or later, the guy was going to work out that the intent was anything but platonic. He’d gotten to know Steve well since the incident with The Upside Down. Nine months had passed and Eddie was still sickeningly sure he loved Steve. It’d gone past any form of infatuation. 
He knew who Steve Harrington was and what he wanted. Steve wanted his future to be a gaggle of kids, crammed into an R.V. heading out on family vacations. If they were to do it, it would be anything but the conventional nuclear family of Steve’s dreams but Eddie couldn’t help but fantasise about ways they could make it work. He wanted it. He was beyond screwed. 
When he and Steve were parting ways after the band’s movie night. This time Eddie uttered a lame,
“See you later, Stevie.’ 
To his surprise, he caught a look of confusion flash across Steve’s face. He opened and shut his mouth, looking as though he were weighing up his options. Unlike Eddie, the guy was good with social interactions. He knew how to read a room. 
“See you,” Steve replied, awkwardly smoothing down his hair in what Eddie knew to be a self-soothing gesture. Weird. 
Eddie kept this new, more formal, stilted form of goodbye going for a week, hating every second of it. He could feel Steve pulling away from him. Suddenly when he wanted to spend time with the guy, he was busy. The one time he hadn’t said ‘I love you’ back to Steve in front of Robin she shot him a look like he’d just kicked a wounded puppy. Eddie was understandably confused. 
It took the passing of another week for Steve to call him out on it. Eddie showed up on Steve’s doorstep unannounced, insisting they hang out because Steve had been avoiding him and he damn well wanted to know why. Steve let him in, much to Eddie’s surprise. 
“Did I do something wrong?’ Steve asked out of the blue as the two sat hunched over at the Harrington’s dining room table, looking over Eddie’s Dark Tower board game. Steve had picked it up surprisingly fast when he’d first brought the game to his place. 
Eddie’s eyes swept over the board before shaking his head. 
“No, that was a safe move. You’re fine.” Steve’s brows drew together, and he shook his head. 
“I’m not talking about the game,” He grumbled, still not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Alright, what had Eddie done wrong now? 
“What? No. Stevie. Why would you think that?” 
Eddie had been asking himself the same question: what had he done to push Steve away? Now that Eddie was focusing on Steve, he noticed how the boy had hunched over himself, his shoulders up around his ears. His body tucked into itself. Usually, Steve was confident and unbothered, but he looked so small. Eddie knew something was very wrong.  
“You stopped saying...” Steve’s voice trailed off. He rolled his eyes, looking pissed off. Not with Eddie, but with himself. 
“Doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. My knight guy is going to the ruins,” Steve amended before Eddie could get a word in edge-wise. He leaned over, pushing the keypad on the tower, obnoxious electronic music filling the silence between them.
Eddie finally understood what Steve was worried about. Instead of taking his next turn he twisted a strand of hair around his finger and inhaled. Screw what other people thought. Since when did he care, anyway? 
“Steve,” Eddie breathed. Full name. Serious business. Steve looked up. 
“I love you. Sorry I haven’t said it in a while. I was getting in my head about... stuff.” Steve nodded, trying to look uncaring, but he failed miserably, his face scrunched and contorted. 
“Stevie, I can hear the cogs ticking from here. Whatever you want to say, say it,” Eddie breathed, nudging Steve’s socked foot with his. 
“I just- you were acting like... Christ. Forget it. It’s bullshit,” Steve stammered, standing up from the table, suddenly a bundle of energy, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. 
“What was I acting like?” Eddie asked, staying rooted to his seat, though his fingers drummed on the table nervously. 
“Like we were in love,” Steve spoke at last, scrubbing a hand over his face. 
“Like we were in love?” Eddie echoed, unable to believe what Steve was implying.  He watched Steve recoil as the words escaped his lips.
‘In love’ wasn’t a description someone used for friendship. Friends weren’t ‘in love’ with each other. Jesus Christ. 
Eddie stood, cringing at the scraping sound his chair made against the tile floor. He really hoped he wasn’t reading this wrong. 
“Please don’t punch me in the face,” Eddie grumbled under his breath as he crossed the space between them. 
Steve remained rooted to the spot as Eddie hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek. He remained still. His brown eyes swelled wide and locked on Eddie’s. He waited for a beat, just long enough for Steve to pull away if that’s not what he wanted. When he didn’t, Eddie pulled him closer, crashing their lips together, his fingers snaking their way to the back of Steve’s neck. Holy shit, Steve was kissing him back. 
Eddie lost the capacity for logical thought somewhere between Steve’s hand finding his ass, and his tongue slipping into his mouth. When they did pull apart, Eddie felt breathless and boneless. 
“Wait, you actually love me?” Eddie asked when his brain finally came back online. Steve nodded, looking equally as shocked. 
“I told you that months ago,” Steve confirmed. 
“I didn’t know you meant it like that... you were so damn unbothered I thought you...” Eddie’s voice trailed off, a vague memory spiking of a story Dustin had told him a lifetime before. It was something to do with Steve’s dating advice. From what Eddie remembered, he’d stressed the importance of acting aloof, as if that actually worked for anyone. 
“I didn’t want to come on too strong,” Steve argued, sounding equally exasperated. 
“You, Steve Harrington, are a dumbass,” Eddie scoffed disbelievingly. 
“How the hell am I in love with you?” 
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stardustprompts · 8 months
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vengeful  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , violence , language , mental health
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‘what a fucking cliche.’
‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’
‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’
‘you should have let it go.’
‘you can’t just do that to me!’
‘you’ve been gone for hours.’
‘you never said I had to play fair.’
‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’
‘you look like a narc.’
‘it feels like dying.’
‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’
‘I did this. I did this to you.’
‘I am alive because of you.’
‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’
‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’
‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’
‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’
‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’
‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’
‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’
‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’
‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’
‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’
‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’
‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’
‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’
‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’
‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’
‘are you used to getting what you want?’
‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’
‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’
‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’
‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’
‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’
‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’
‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’
‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’
‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’
‘every end is a new beginning.’
‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’
‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’
‘I played god once and it did not end well.’
‘oh no, it will never work between us.’
‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’
‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’
‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’
‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’
‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’
‘normal is overrated.’
‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’
‘every power has its limits.’
‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’
‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’
‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’
‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’
‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’
‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’
‘never underestimate a woman.’
‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’
‘power belongs to those who take it.’
‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’
‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’
‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’
‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’
‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’
‘I don’t feel anything.’
‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’
‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’
‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’
‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’
‘I thought you were done with hiding.’
‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’
‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’
‘let’s talk about revenge.’
‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’
‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’
‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’
‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’
'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’
‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’
‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’
‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’
‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’
‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’
‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’
‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’
‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’
‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’
‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’
‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’
‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’
‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’
‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’
‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’
‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’
‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’
‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’
‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’
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tainbocuailnge · 7 months
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i watched fight club today. really not hard to see how this became such a cultural mainstay. i feel like the opening sections before tyler even shows up are possibly even stronger than the rest of it, this setup of this guy with his cushy office job and his pleasantly furnished apartment being so chronically unfulfilled in his picture perfect life that he ends up visiting support groups for the terminally ill to vicariously get access to a framework through which he's allowed to lament his life, but even within these support groups everyone's lament has to adhere to a certain safe image, the narrator fucking hates marla for doing the exact same thing as him because she's not even pretending to go along with the image of beautiful lament despite her being extremely suicidal and just as much in need of support, and when chloe complains about her struggle to get laid now that she's consigned to a beautiful tragic cancer death she is quickly pulled away from the microphone. everyone on screen is excruciatingly unfulfilled because so much as voicing your desires outside very rigidly defined frameworks of acceptability is severely frowned upon.
it's extremely obvious why the men who join fight club are drawn to the allure of a framework through which they're allowed to desire and obtain the experiences of the flesh. all of tyler's crimes involve the taboo of the flesh somehow. splicing porn frames into movies. pissing and nutting into the food he's serving. stealing liposuction clinic fat to make soap and explosives. and of course starting underground fight rings. because the physical is inherently transgressive to these allowed frameworks of success and lament. when tyler lists the rules of fight club all the men present giggle at "no more than two guys per fight" "no more than one fight at a time" because just the fact that they're all here gathering as unfulfilled men indulging in the taboo of high impact physical contact gives everything a (homo)sexual angle that they have to laugh off. because even here in their transgressive taboo secret club they have to adhere to what is allowed! they're not gay. they're manly men who want to fuck women. they are deeply unfulfilled and deeply desperate for a place to belong among other men. they are simply exchanging one rigid framework for another.
it's no coincidence that the first support group the narrator goes to is for testicular cancer either, all these men crying about how losing their balls ruined their lives not because they almost died but because their wives divorced them for not being able to impregnate them anymore, because it destroyed their masculinity and thus their value as human beings, and especially bob who used to be an accomplished bodybuilder but needing to get his balls removed lead to hormonal imbalances that lead to breast growth and now this once masculine ideal is nobody anymore because he's no longer a proper man. he's the only one in tyler's army who gets to have a name.
like specifically bob and sophie really stand out to me as very bold statements especially considering when this movie was made and also very clear signs of what its trying to say here. the extreme social and physical alienation of modern consumerist society and the way it intersects with harmful ideas of masculinity to create a genre of extremely volatile reactionary asshole. and also the fact that the reason the narrator even ended up going to this support group is because his doctor was calling him a fucking pansy for not just powering through his insomnia and telling him to have a look at these tragically emasculated men if he wants to see what's really worth pitying. and having your balls cut off repeatedly being used as the worst threat you could possibly make to a man in this movie because being emasculated is worse than death.
tyler constantly tells the narrator he needs to be prepared to die if he wants to be free, he needs to lose everything and destroy everything if he wants to become able to do whatever he wants, but it's only after the narrator kills himself -> kills tyler and the ideal of masculinity tyler represents that he's actually able to desire something without being told what to desire. the narrator doesn't know what he wants and can't tell tyler what he wants when tyler demands to know, because being tyler isn't actually what he wants once it becomes clear to him where that ideology will lead, but as long as tyler is looming over him as his concept of the ideal (masculine) self he still can't be or even conceptualise his actual fulfilled self. because tyler is taking up all his brainspace to be nothing but a volatile reactionary asshole at the center of a death cult. it's the least masculine man in the movie who gets to be named, martyred even, in the pursuit of tyler's masculinity, and he's named because the narrator realizes he cannot abide tyler's ideal of masculinity. anyway. good movie.
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