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#i could understand if it was used as a tool for a first pass for quick turnarounds
charlie-thewitch · 3 days
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Chapter II
"What are you talking about" Shen Jiu hissed. He does not have the time nor the willingness to entertain this clearly delusional man more than he already has. Honestly, he probably shouldn't have freed his mouth if this is what's coming out of it.
"Gege I know it's been like 20 years or something but you couldn't have forgoten about me, could you? This breaks Didi's poor heart" Said the other, batting his eyelashes like a little mistress asking daddy for a new dress and it's making him sick. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.
"You don't even know my name and this one doesn't have any siblings, so shut up. I'll fucking leave you here if you say another stupid thing" Shen Jiu walks to the corpse of the fat man with a grimace. He would prefert to not do this but the prospect of ruining a nobles day by liberating "the merchandise" is too sweet to pass after all.
Taking the sleeve with just two fingers, Shen Jiu brings it up enough to search inside. Dropping on the ground the knickknacks the man inexplicably had inside. Well, the money he keeps. Shizun is too cheap with her disciples and inns are disgusting while brothels are expensive. He'll need a good night's sleep after this and his prey will be founding it.
"We didn't actually had names" With the keys in hand Shen Jiu walks to the largest cage he can see and passes his founding to the frightened woman inside. Only when she understands what to do and gets to work opening all the cages on sight does he turn around to the nuisance still tied and sitting on the dirty ground. "What?"
"When we lived with mother; we didn't have names. That man-" He said it with so much venom Shen Jiu could for a single moment believe they were siblings after all. "-never let her name us. He was planning on selling us from before we were even born so she 'shouldn't get attached'. She fought him, naturally, but Mother only could do so much... He took you first, I was too sick to be sold just yet"
Shen Jiu is marginally grateful the other slaves ran as soon as they were freed from the cages because he doesn't need reports of what he'll do to this bastard to reach Shizun. A murder outside of the permitted by the mission will look so bad on his already muddy reputation. "Good story, you should write a book" He deadpans.
"It's the truth!" The guy pouts, as if that helps his case at all and doesn't just make him look crazier. "Gege could easily prove we are related with a talisman, couldn't you? I know fancy cultivators have that type of tools just lying around!"
"You want me to believe you remember bullcrap from when 'we' were, what, 4 years old?" Shen Jiu said mockingly
"Gege isn't even denying he was a slave like me" A curious head tilt and Shen Jiu suddenly feels like he's missing something, again. He hates that feeling. "He knows deep down that this Didi is saying something important." That knowing look is pissing him off, but he can't deny felling the littlest bit curious. The guy stole his face, that's undeniable. And a sibling relationship could very well explain it.
But is he ready for the implications? Is he ready to have a family, a fucked up one he is sure, but, family?
Qi-ge Yue Qi used to call them brothers but that didn't stop him at the moment of betraying him for a better life. Is this guy actually interested in Shen Jiu or is this his ploy to be freed? He already saw Shen Jiu give the keys to the others, surely there's no need for him to still be talking to Shen Jiu at all?
Shen Jiu could always just make the test and drop this guy on the streets if it came out negative and... And if it's positive that'll mean there's someone in this world who is his.
There's no way to change one's blood. He knows that very well. His blood may very well be running in this guys veins. An undeniable bond to someone, something unbreakable. This could mean he has a brother, maybe even a mother that... Loved him.
A mother. One that loved this wretched creature. Proff that he didn't came out wrong, twisted.
Is Shen Jiu being too naive? The simple promise of a past loved one has him doubting the most basic instinct of caring for no one but himself. Hope is an ugly thing he thought dead and buried years ago under charred wood and ash.
Shen Jiu returned his gaze to the young man, serious and grave. He can't believe he is doing something so stupid but one thing is true in all street children: If you can take something, do it. And never give anything back. "You will follow me and not say a single word to anyone. Understood? I will have to ask someone back at the sect for a blood testing tool" This guy wants to be his brother? Fine. Let him cope with his horrible personality. Shen Jiu is never diminishing himself for the comfort of others. Never again.
A sly smile is his answer, and he can't quite help the feeling he just got played. "This Didi will do as Gege says..."
Prev - Next (soon)
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master-gatherer · 1 year
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So they used AI to make the credits for Secret Invasion
And it looks like ass
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lizzieolseniskinda · 8 days
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TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 1
part one | two | three - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)
(requests open)
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 2335
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language
IB: people who used to make this wattpad stories, i used to ate those upppp🫣 & i love the tom hughes, tom riddle smmm
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the air was thick, it smelled like blood and burning wood everywhere. the echoes of the battle was ringing faintly in the distance. hidden away from the chaos, severus snape laid crumpled on the cold floor, his body slick with blood, life slipping away from him with each passing second.
voldemort left him to die, discarded like a broken tool. nagini’s venom coursed through his veins, its poison cruelly efficient, and yet snape’s eyes remained sharp. his gaze was fixated on harry, standing just a few steps away, his face pale with shock and confusion. snape’ focus wavered as he turned his eyes weakly, finding you - your form trembling as you knelt beside him, your heart shattering at the sight.
you might not have the best bond with a teacher like snape, but never would you wish death upon someone.
“take it.. you both..” snape rasped, his voice a whisper and urgent. deep within his cloak, he pulled out one small vial and one small potion-like bottle. his hands shook as he reached for his own tear-streaked face. slowly he collected the silvery drops that clung there, memories shimmering with an otherworldly glow.
harry kneeled down beside you now, watching in silence, his confusion giving way to a deeper understanding. snapes dark eyes locked into yours as he extended the vial towards you.
“you need to.. know the truth.”
tears of your own spilled down your cheeks as you took the vial from his trembling hand. “you… were meant to change it all.” he whispered hoarsely
“you can save him.. save everyone. but only if you understand what must be done. the sacrifices you’ll have to take."
the weight of the vial suddenly felt heavier than before, as you sat beside snape’s lifeless body. his final words were echoing in your mind.
harry’s face was pale and grief-stricken. his eyes met yours and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
“we have to go,” harry said, his voice hoarse, snapping you out of your daze. he looked down at the vial of silvery liquid in your hand. “the pensieve. we need to see what he left for us.”
“yeah,” was the only thing you could mutter out, your throat was tight with a mixture of fear and urgency. without another word, both of you scrambled to your feet.
fires flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows across the grounds and hallways as the final battle raged on.
harry led the way, his steps quick with you right behind him, clutching the vial so tightly in your hand that you though it might shatter at any given moment.
“we have to hurry,” he urged over his shoulder. “whatever’s in these memories, it’s important. snape wouldn’t have-“ his voice was caught in his throat.
you only nodded, your mind spinning with snape's last words. “you can save him.. but only if you know what must be done.”
save who? harry? voldemort? was there a part of tom riddle still left inside the monster he had become? and how were you connected to him? why you in the first place?
you reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to dumbledore's office. harry barely paused to spit out the password.
“sherbet lemon!”
the gargoyle sprang to life, and the two of you rushed up the spiral staircase, out of breath.
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dumbledore's office had a heavy scent of old parchment and burning candle wax filled in the air. you and harry stood side by side, breathing heavily from the sprint through the castle. the weight of the vial, now emptied, felt almost meaningless in your hands. your heart pounded in your chest.
harry held your gaze briefly, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "let's do this," he said, his voice straining slightly. you nodded in return, your throat too tight to speak. together, you leaned over the pensieve, letting you be pulled into the swirling memories.
the world around you started shifting, and suddenly, you were in the same office, just a few things placed differently.
before you could take your surroundings in further, you noticed him - severus snape, somewhat younger, his dark hair still hanging around his face. you and harry exchanged a look. snape stood rigid before dumbledore's desk, his expression (as always) unreadable.
"this is madness, albus," snape spat, his voice low and venomous. "you're going to send her back in time, while you know she will not be able to return? she will be trapped there - forever. a time turner cannot help her."
dumbledore leaned back in his chair, in his hand a quill as he gazed at snape with a somber, almost mournful expression. "i understand your anger, severus, but there is no other way." you took note of how snape looked younger but not that much younger. you saw the gash in his leg, and guessed this would've taken place during first year
"she doesn't know, does she?" snape's voice cut off your train of thought. "no, she does not," albus replied softly. "and it is better that way, for now."
'she' - that was you. this memory was about you. you felt your heart skip a beat.
"you're asking her to do the impossible - to change him. tom riddle cannot be saved. he was already lost when you met him in the orphanage."
"perhaps," dumbledore replied. "but she must try. if there is even the smallest of chance to alter the course of his soul, it is through her."
snape gave a slight scoff. "if she is to succeed, she must know everything!" you never realised how much he cared for you and your friends. "but you told her nothing of this?"
dumbledore's eyes flicker towards the parchment in front of him. "when the time is right, she shall know what to do." dumbledore sighed, rising from his chair. "and do not worry, she will know, severus, but not before the right time."
snape's face twisted in frustration. "and if she fails? what then?"
"her connection to tom riddle is delicate, and should she go back into the past with full knowledge, it could endanger everything. the balance between them is fragile,' dumbledore explained.
harry's hand clenched beside you, his breath quickening. "go back in time?" he whispered, echoing the questions that were swirling in your own mind. snape turned sharply, "you're asking too much of her," he said through gritted teeth. "sending her back into time, to tom riddle's fifth year... if she doesn't succeed in making him-"
"-experience love," dumbledore finished saying. "love is the key, severus." you felt as though the ground had dropped out from beneath you. tom riddle - love? that would be impossible, is this what dumbledore had planned for you all along? to go back into the past, to love a young tom riddle before he became lord voldemort.
"how.. how could anyone make riddle love someone?" i whispered to harry.
"you are condemning her to live out her days in a time that's not her own! she won't even be able to return! you've bound her to the past," snape stressed.
the headmaster's gaze grew sharper, though there was still that calm weight behind it. "she is connected to tom riddle in ways we cannot fully understand. if there is hope for him, it lies in her hands - her influence. but no, severus, she cannot come back. the magic involved in sending her back is ... irreversible."
"you will send her to a monster! to a boy who will grow to become the dark lord," snape sneered. "what happens if she doesn't succeed in her task?"
dumbledore's eyes closed for a moment. "if she cannot reach him... if he's heart remains as closed as it is now, then yes, voldemort will rise like he did. and our fate is sealed."
snape looked up at him. "you truly believe she can save him?"
dumbledore's eyes glinted, the faintest trace of hope dancing behind them. "i believe she is the only one who can." his voice dropped to a whisper, "she will remain in that time, she will live there, bound to the past..."
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after the sensation finally stopped, you and harry found yourselves back in the present. the glow of the pensieve slowly faded, leaving only the silence of the room.
you stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what you had just witnessed - the conversation between snape and dumbledore. the weight of it hung heavy in the air, pressing down on you both.
"You stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what you had just witnessed — the conversation between Snape and Dumbledore. The weight of it hung heavy in the air, pressing down on you both.
"if you go, you can't come back," harry whispered , almost to himself, as thoug saying it out loud would make it reality. his face was pale, "once you go back into riddle's time... you're stuck there. forever."
"and if i fail..." your voice shook as the truth finally settled in. "if i can't change him, you'll have to battle him. harry, you'll die."
his eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, he seemed as lost as you were. he ran a hand through his hair, pacing in front of dumbledore's desk. "i don't understand, dumbledore.. snape.. they planed all of this-" he stopped, turning to face you. "how are you supposed to change tom riddle?"
you shook your head, "i don't know, harry. i don't know how i'm supposed to make him love or.. stop him from becoming voldemort. what if i can't even do it?"
harry stepped toward you, his expression softening, though his own fear was palpable. "you've faced worse, right? you've fought death eaters. you survived this war with us, if anyone can do it, it's you," harry finished saying. "but i hate that it has to be you."
the weight of his words hung between the two of you.
"i don't- dumbledore said we were connected somehow, that we're soul-bound, basically... but what if that's not enough?"
harry's jaw tightened, frustration breaking through his calm. "its unfair! it's always unfair with him!" harry raised his arms. "he expects too much. first me, now you! he's always asking us to make these impossible choices."
you nodded, and your heart ached at harry's raw emotion. "i can't let you die, harry," you stated softly. "i can't stand by and watch that happen."
he shook his face fiercely, stepping closer so his hands gripped your shoulders. "and i can't let you go back in time, knowing you'll never come home."
for a moment, the two of you stood like that, caught between the devastating choice laid before you. you could feel the pull of what needed to be done.
"if this is the only way, then we'll find a way to make it work. we'll figure out how to change him, how to make him love. we'll do it together," harry nodded, sure of his plan.
you smiled through tears, "harry, once i go, i'll be alone."
his grip tightened on your shoulders. "you won't be alone. you've never been alone in this.you'll have everything we've ever fought for - the memories. and more than that.. you'll have hope."
tears were threatening to leave your eyes, but you swallowed them back. you nodded at harry.
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harry took the small potion out of his jacket pocket. the liquid inside was an ethereal, shimmering gold, glowing faintly in the dim of the room. the potion, the one that would send you back in time - and trap you there.
your hands shook as you took the potion from harry. the glass feeling cold in your palm, the moment had come, and it was terrifying. once you drank it, you knew there would be no turning back, no returning to the world and people you once knew. no more friends, no more future. only the past, that would become your future
harry shifted beside you, "are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low. there was a plea in his words, though he wasn't trying to stop you. he couldn't. he knew as well as you did that this was the only way.
"i don't have a choice," you whispered back, your voice shaking. you gave him a small nod, though your heart still pounded in your chest. you uncorked the bottle the faint scent of something sweet filled the air. the liquid seemed almost alive, swirling around.
you took one last look at harry, locking the image of his face - strong, determined, your best friend.this might be the last time you'd ever see him.
"i'll miss you," you whispered, barely able to say the words. harry's eyes glistened, but he gave a small resolute nod. "i'll miss you too."
with a final breath, you raised the vial to your lips. the liquid was warm, surprisingly smooth as it slid down your throat. at first, it didn't feel like something was happening. but then the warmth began to spread, starting in your chest and slowly moving through your body.
the world around you started to blur, and a dizzying sensation took over. harry's voice was distant now, "its happening."
your vision blurred, you could feel time itself shifting, bending, pulling you away from the present and hurling you backwards, into the past.
it was overwhelming, as though your existence was being unraveled and re-made into a different planet. you feared you might lose yourself entirely.
and then, everything came to a hurtling stop. the warm feeling of the potion faded, replaced by a cool, crisp breeze against your skin. you opened your eyes, heart still pounding, and took in your surroundings.
it felt so familiar yet completely different. hogwarts stood tall, the grounds were more pristine, untouched by the war, by the battles you grew so accustomed to. the castle's windows shimmered, and the air smelled fresh.
at last, you were in the past.
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loosescrewslefty · 9 months
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Screaming, crying and OBSESSING over the way Anya and Demetrius are on opposite sides of the Neurodivergent scale and also far more similar to one another than either one realizes. More than any other character we've seen so far, it feels like these two are Yin and Yang, opposite sides of the same coin.
Demetrius easily absorbs facts, figures, and other information that follows a set pattern. But people confuse and frustrate him, and he deals with that by not dealing with it. Anya has the ability to understand more about strangers she passes on the street than people who see them regularly ever could, but traditional academics can overwhelm her so she is resistant to studying. And yet both of them are othered and seen as abnormal by everyone around them, building a wall between them and their peers that they both find difficult to overcome.
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Anya tries to fit in through masking, pretending as hard as she can to be normal (with limited success) but Demetrius has given up after going so long without anyone helping him better understand others which leads to him disassociating in social situations as a self defense mechanism, to get in and out as quickly and painlessly as possible while telling himself it doesn't matter.
Except it does.
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Demetrius didn't need to ask about Damian's stella. But he did. Because he wants to find some sort of common ground with his brother even as he reassures himself that it doesn't matter and he doesn't care. He doesn't pick up on the fact that this makes Damian feel self conscious, that he's comparing his one stella to Demetrius' six and worried their father will love him less for not being as successful. Demetrius doesn't understand how the subject switched to Donovan at all, and shuts down hard when their father is mentioned. Just like he did when Damian called and asked him to be a bridge between them way back when.
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(Demetrius warning Damian not to get his hopes up about Donovan coming to meet him also conflicts with his internal dialog about how the people around him don't matter and he doesn't need to care about understanding them. If it actually doesn't matter to him, then he wouldn't care if Donovan blew Damian off.)
Circling back to the original thought though, I desperately hope that we're going to get Demetrius and Anya interacting directly with one another at some point in the future because I have a feeling that Anya's blunt, child-like nature will lead to her just directly telling Demetrius the things that are eluding him when he interacts with others, demystifying all the unspoken social cues he's supposed to yet cannot intuit for the first time in his life. And he is going to be in awe of this child for her ability to not only understand others, but translate for him when he cannot grasp whatever it is they are trying and failing to say to him.
Demetrius could appreciate Anya's abilities, rather than being afraid of or disturbed by them. And they could both understand the feeling of not fitting in with the crowd. Of knowing that others regard them with fear and contempt, or want to use the things that make them different for their own purposes and treat them like they are just a tool instead of a person. The potential is there for a very interesting platonic relationship between two kids who have spent their whole lives feeling like their differences alienated them from everyone else in their life, and in Anya's case a fear that the discovery of that difference would lead to her losing the love of everyone important to her in her life.
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cosmicanakin · 8 months
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𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 ⟢ | vinnie hacker.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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⟣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. vinnie hacker x female reader.
⟣ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.
⟣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). fluff ┆︎ explicit language ┆︎ smut ┆︎ thigh riding ┆︎ fingering ┆︎ breeding kink ┆︎ no use of y/n.
kari's corner ⟢ ݁⋆ while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars.
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the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his car by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.
sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.
"any luck, babe?" you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right."
he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.
"mind if i take a look?" you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. "i had no idea you knew about cars, babe," disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.
"my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on." vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.
"ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up." you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.
"damn baby, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things." he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.
"flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket wrench so i can get this fixed," you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.
flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. "alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick." he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.
the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. "fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward."
giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. "i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted," he growls between kisses.
heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. "mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now..." twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.
he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.
"fuck, i need you so bad. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly." he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.
as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.
vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.
"slow down, baby, 'm not going anywhere," he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.
"so perfect, and all mine." his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.
vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.
"fuck vinnie!" you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your core. "you take my fingers so well baby. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?"
a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.
just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.
crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. "gonna make you feel so good, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?"
you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. "please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm all yours baby." his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.
you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.
all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.
"fuck you look gorgeous taking my cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that, baby? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?"
the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.
collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered 'i love you's' while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.
"you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot." he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.
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uyuforu · 5 months
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Astrology Observations VI
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All pictures were found on Pinterest
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Buy me a Kofi •ᴗ•
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❀˖° Having a 12H Sun in Solar Return Chart is not for the weak. Your life could "fall apart" during this time, you can have a spiritual awakening, a very hard time in fact. I also noticed it can also mean (doesn’t need to be that, it CAN mean) one of your loved one can pass away unfortunately. It happened to me and a lot of people who also had their sun in their 12h, but not all of them! Usually, you have a hard time in general. But you’ll be fine, it is meant to happen for a reason.
❀˖° Synastry aspects are good to look at but the houses where the aspects fall is very important!! Sun conjunct Moon will have a different meaning where it falls.
❀˖° 7H synastry can mean a wonderful connection and desires to marry. BUT! The 7H can also be the house of enemies, so not everyone’s sun falling in your 7H means you have a good connection with them! I found myself not enjoying most of the people who’s sun fell in my 7H…
❀˖° Underrated Houses in Synastry: 2H, 4H, 6H, 10H.
❀˖° When looking at your Solar Return Chart, check the Synastry it has with your Natal Chart. It will tell you where those placements are felt within you. For example, my SRC’s Sun is in 12H and fall in my 10H this year. I’m having a lot of mental breakdown when it comes to my career, and since it conjuncts a big stellium of mine in my Natal, I just feel like my whole world is falling apart 🥲
❀˖° Please remember: North Node PC will tell you about your Soul purpose WHILE your MC will tell you about your career that is best suit for you. Your NN will never tell you about your career!!
❀˖° Union in your SRC could be the person you will meet this year that will have the strongest influence for you this year.
❀˖° 10H will tell you where your FS was born... ☺️
❀˖° 4H Sun people love to stay at home! Even if they are on a date, they will try to continue the date at home, because this is where they feel the most comfortable.
❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury in a MC PC is a huge indicator of using communication daily to work, your tool n°1 is your voice!
❀˖° Aquarius Sun 4H are so private!! Aquarius usually are quite private people because they enjoy being mysterious and controlling what people think of them, they like that people don't understand them. But in 4H??? they will lie for the sake of their privacy.
❀˖° Opposite signs aren't that different in the end, they are very similar in fact. Capricorn & Cancer are both very family oriented for example. One is logical minded while the other is more feeling driven.
❀˖° Scorpio Rising have something so intense in their gaze, it's truly something you can't put words on. But once you see this gaze, you know.
❀˖° Chiron in 9H Synastry could be that you think you are too different because of the culture, the language, the beliefs, etc. BUT! If you are from the same place, it can just mean you don't understand each other, you are just basically too different.
❀˖° My step mother and I hated each other, and she had her Moon and Mercury in my 7H. Yep, she hated me. She was often insulting me or even trying to manipulate me with words.
❀˖° Saturn 7H Synastry can mean Saturn person feel like it will never work out between you two. But it could also mean they see you long term, depending of other placements.
❀˖° Sun in 5H Synastry usually means the person really enjoy your presence and think you are fun!
❀˖° Venus 6H Synastry means the Venus Person feels safe around you.
❀˖° You can tell by doing a Synastry with a Celebrity if you can hope to meet them one day. Usually Saturn in 9H or 1H is a sign you will never meet them. Of course, this is just an observation.
❀˖° I checked my Synastry with my first love, and it explained a lot. I have a stellium in his 7H, and of course, he was my first love.
❀˖° But I never expected to got his Venus in my 5H! I never knew if he had a crush on me too or if I was delusional lol.
❀˖° His Sun conjuncted my Neptune, he misunderstood me most of the time. He was seeing me in a way that was so untrue lol.
❀˖° He also had his Sun 1H, he was soooo popular among girls! Any girls from middle school had a huge crush on him at some point.
❀˖° He also had a stellium in my 4H and we were childhood friends.
❀˖° My sun conjuncted his Moon. Now, I had nothing against him, I thought he was funny. But he was indeed seeing me in a light that wasn't me.
❀˖° My Venus conjuncted his Vertex, I suddenly fell for him, and it must have been fated in a way?
❀˖° Though, his Mars fell in my 1H... man thought I was very good looking (he told lmao).
❀˖° Sagittarius Rising in Composite could indicate a mixed couple, but it can also mean you are so different no one expected you two to be together.
❀˖° Union 9H in Composite could mean you met in a foreign country, but also in school!
❀˖° Sun in 11H Composite means you are friends originally. Or just friends lol.
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❀˖° Ceres 7H Composite could mean you care a lot about each other.
❀˖° Venus in 7H or conjuncting DSC Composite means one of you or both of you desire to marry each other.
❀˖° Pluto 12H to me is not that good usually. Anytime I saw this placement in Composite, the couple or the people never stayed together. It always ends. There can be exceptions of course.
❀˖° Saturn 5H in a romantic Composite means you will most likely never date, there could be obstacles in this union.
❀˖° Mercury conjunct Saturn Composite means misunderstandings and miscommunication.
❀˖° The year I had this first love, I had a 5H stellium in my SRC, and this stellium fell in my Natal 9H! It was indeed a school love lol.
❀˖° I also had Venus conjunct Vertex, it was my first time falling for anyone.
❀˖° The year I told him my feeling and got rejected I had Venus conjunct Mercury in 12H!
❀˖° Juno 12H in SRC could mean you have a secret crush!
❀˖° Sun conjunct Juno Solar Return Synastry is a big indicator of having a crush on the Sun person.
❀˖° Juno/ Mars/ Neptune in 1H Synastry Solar Return is an indicators of finding 1H person veryyyy attractive, it can be love at first sight, but it is def a crush!
❀˖° Transits Moon conjunct your Natal Mars will make your emotions boil lol. You could complain a lot or have a lot of negative emotions such as anger, jealousy, etc.
❀˖° Union asteroid conjunct Part of Fortune Synastry is a sign you were meant to meet in order to bless each other. It's a lucky meeting. It is very good and shows that you will do well in each other's life.
❀˖° My FS is a Pisces Venus 4H and he is the softest!! Just very cute and very soft person... I love him very much lol.
❀˖° He also has Neptune 3H, he tends to lie to protect himself (Sun 4H makes this effect too), but he is also a very good poet writer. He wrote me poems before and I believe he would do well for poetry writing in general.
❀˖° Pluto 1H could be a sign you will experience a drastic change in your appearance some day. If Jupiter is also there, it could indicate a big and major glow up.
❀˖° Juno 12H could mean your FS is a soul connection, someone who could be spiritual and awaken. If it is very close to the Rising, or conjunct 1H, OR in 1H, it could mean you'll probably have love at first sight for them.
❀˖° Chiron Virgo/ 6H/ Capricorn/ 10H could indicate a burn out at some point in your life.
❀˖° North Node conjunct Pluto could mean your purpose in your life will transform you deeply, mostly if it is in the 1H. You will live a drastic change in your life.
❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury 1H in Solar Return Chart means you could think a lot about you this year, and think about your choices, and how it will play out for you. You will do more "selfish" choices because you want to make the best for you.
❀˖° Do I love stalking people I love or do I just have some heavy Scorpio/ 8H placements?
❀˖° Yeah indeed, Scorpio love stalking, but Gemini love that too!
❀˖° I have Gemini Moon 8H... u get it? lol
❀˖° It is a known thing, but in SRC, 4H's ruler in 9H means moving abroad! Another indication could be a stellium in 9H. But the stellium could also mean coming back to school, so it depends.
❀˖° SRC 4H Ruler in 12H could mean the same thing. It could simply be moving out.
❀˖° Speaking of the 12H in SRC, Pluto & Venus there could be end of a relationship BUT it could also be a spiritual love and you will learn lessons because of it.
❀˖° SRC 7H ruler in 1H could mean being in a relationships and it being part of who you are this year. Or you could appear as very romantic, very loyal too. Could also attract more contracts.
❀˖° Mars 7H in SRC could be an indicator you have a fight with the one you love, more if Venus squares/ quincunx/ opposite it. If you are single, it could show also more motivation towards long term connections.
❀˖° SRC 5H ruler being in the 7H could mean being in a long term relationship but also finding the one you want to marry.
❀˖° Once again, SRC Juno conjunct Chiron could mean you will suffer in love but it is indeed for healing.
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luvhughes43 · 1 year
Text
the beginning | jack hughes
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au masterlist⭐️
summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?
warnings: pregnancy
word count: 5.6k
The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 
You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 
All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 
When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 
One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 
“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 
⋆ ★
“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 
“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 
The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 
“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 
“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 
“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 
the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.
“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 
“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 
“It’s time to go,” 
you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 
“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 
⋆ ★
“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 
your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 
your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 
“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.
“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 
Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.
“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.
“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 
“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 
You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..
You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 
You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 
“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”
Jack chuckles, “my bad” 
The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”
“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 
Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 
“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”
“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.
“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.
“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 
“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”
“you moved on your own at 18”
“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 
Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 
“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 
“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”
You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.
“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 
After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 
Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 
You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 
“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 
He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”
“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.
“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 
“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”
Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”
You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 
“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 
You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 
Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 
“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 
Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 
“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.
“But I didn't..” 
“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”
“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 
“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 
“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 
“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 
“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 
Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 
Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 
Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions
You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.
⋆ ★
After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 
“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 
“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 
“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 
“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 
There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 
“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!
“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 
“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 
“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 
“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 
⋆ ★
The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 
Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 
Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 
You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 
“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 
“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 
Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.
“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.
“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 
Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 
You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 
“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.
You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 
“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 
you were falling hard. 
⋆ ★
The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 
Ynuser
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That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 
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After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 
It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.
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You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 
Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 
⋆ ★
The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 
You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.
It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.
You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 
“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.
“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”
“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 
“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 
Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 
A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 
You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 
The drive to your apartment was quiet. 
“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 
“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 
“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 
“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”
Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 
When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 
Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.
⋆ ★
Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 
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“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.
“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”
“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 
Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 
“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 
“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 
Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…
⋆ ★
After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 
On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 
“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 
“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 
“Okay… and did she tell you that?”
“I can tell” 
Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 
For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.
“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 
“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 
“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   
“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 
“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.
“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 
“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 
“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 
“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 
Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 
“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 
Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 
“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 
You never called. 
⋆ ★
A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 
“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 
“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 
“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 
“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 
“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 
You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 
“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 
“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 
“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 
“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 
In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 
“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 
“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 
“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”
Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 
“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 
Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.
“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 
⋆ ★
After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 
Amazon: Upcoming Delivery
Hi Yn Ln,
This confirms your purchase from Tampax
Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.
Thank you for using Amazon Pay.
Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.
February
January
December
You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 
Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 
Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 
You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 
“That’ll be $65.24” 
It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 
You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 
You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 
Positive
Pregnant
+
Two lines
⋆ ★
The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 
After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 
You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 
No result. 
You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 
fuck. 
That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 
You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 
jackhughes
unblock
Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 
You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 
It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 
⋆ ★
You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.
Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 
What the fuck were you going to do.
part two
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wilwheaton · 1 year
Text
When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.
This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.
I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.
I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.
A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.
I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.
I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.
To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.
But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.
After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.
River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.
I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.
At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).
I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.
My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.
I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.
It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.
Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)
But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.
Okay. Back to The Curse.
This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.
That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.
One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.
So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.
I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.
No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.
“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”
So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.
At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”
It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.
I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.
It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).
So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.
My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”
The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.
I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.
The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.
But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.
Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.
If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.
My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.
The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?
My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.
My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.
Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.
She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.
“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”
“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.
Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?
The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.
But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.
There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.
I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.
The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.
I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.
This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.
As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.
The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.
Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.
There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.
The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.
This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).
Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.
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Note
hcs for all the castlevania boys (trevor, issac, hector, alucard, dracula, godbrand, the judge, varney, ratko & st. germain- i think that's all of them lol) caring for s/o reader on their period. can be modern times or past times whichever u prefer. 💖
A/N: I wish more people would be less disgusted and more understanding when it comes to menstruation. There are still so many myths circulating about it, I’m shocked sometimes. One time a guy on Twitter said he thought women got periods because they evolved to eat meat. And I was like…. Excuse you?? Lol. Anyway, on to the HCs!
Sorry, some are short. I wanted to do longer to make it fair but there were like TEN characters mentioned and my max is supposed to be SIX so some are taking a far back seat. 
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TW: Blood, Period Mention (still w/ GN Reader)
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Castlevania Boys Helping S/O GN!Reader with Their Period: 🩸
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Trevor: 
Is surprisingly resourceful, given the man was a wandering drunk when you first met him.
Not so much in a kind about-it way, he’s very sarcastic and so over the whole thing right after it starts.
But he did have a large family once so he remembers what his sisters and mother went through.
Will cut off strips of his cape for you to use, but expects you to take care of any sort of ‘mess’, he’s pre-occupied cleaning whatever latest monster’s guts off himself anyway
Buys a whiskey but lets YOU drink most of it to help with the cramps (and for him this is the ultimate sign he loves you lol).
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Alucard: 
Is unexpectedly awkward for someone whose mother was a doctor.
He’s very knowledgeable but unsure of how to broach the subject, sort of giving you instructions on what to do (as if you made it to the age you did without knowing??).  
And of course, the castle has everything you could need, and if it doesn’t, he won’t hesitate to travel to get it for you. Although he does insist you stay in while he retrieves it.
If you’ve been together for a while, offers to help clean you up in equal parts removed curiosity and bewitched hunger (although he’s comparatively embarrassed about that later part).
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Hector: 
Not phased at all. The man’s used to sticking his hands into corpses, why would menstrual blood be an issue?
Isn’t super knowledgeable about it, he’s been alone focusing solely on his needs for so many years, and this was never one of them. But he does try and learn now that he has you.
He sends his most trustworthy night creatures and reanimated pets to go hunting for the herbs and wild medicines you use. On the other hand, Hector orders the more domesticated pets to stay and cuddle/play with you. 
On the days you’re curled up in a ball in bed, he offers to read some of the books he’s been writing as he knows you find his voice very soothing. 
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Isaac: 
Fascinated by human psychology and biology from an earlier age, so he’s moderately educated on the subject. 
Blood does not scare him, but he does understand the societal stigma around sharing such a natural cycle with him.
Like Hector, he sends out his night creatures to fetch you whatever you need. 
Ensure you drink enough tea and water to stay hydrated. Also asks that you eat plenty of red meat to help replace some of the iron you’ve lost.
Is one of the few men that requests you stay as active as you can, limiting rather than stopping your regular activities. Movement and keeping your mind occupied should make the days pass much faster, as Issac is a firm believer that self-discipline is one of the most powerful tools of all. 
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Godbrand: 
Not grossed out, but ends up grossing YOU out with his enthusiasm about the whole thing
Will of course offer to go down there himself and ‘take care of matters like a man’ - his words, not yours. 
What? For Godbrand, being with a living, breathing, and most importantly, bleeding human are the perks of your relationship. It’s like having a partner and a constant food source all in one!
Will absolutely curse out if not straight-up attack any other vampire who dares to bitch about your mood swings or irritable behavior. And then once you’re out of earshot, he will proceed to bitch about said mood swings and irritable behavior. What? At least he’s gentlemanly enough not to do it to your face.  
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Dracula: 
The most caring and respectful king fr
He is super understanding and educated on the subject. In fairness, he’s probably curated half of the books on menstruation within his vast libraries. 
Has the necessary products on hand- strips of cloth, herbs for cramping and pain, teas, and a medieval-era heating pad of his own invention. 
Like Godbrand, offers to pleasure you down there to help relieve some cramps with the help of an orgasm, although he’s much more romantic and poetic when he suggests such a thing to you. And unlike Godbrand, he’s in it solely for your benefit. The idea that he’d get to feed as well is the farthest thing on his mind. 
Literally the most perfect and doting husband to ever walk the face of this earth oh my god.
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The Judge: 
Expects you to handle it yourself lol. 
Don’t ask him for advice or aid. If you must seek out assistance, he directs you to another woman or midwife within the town.
Considers it highly inappropriate to discuss such matters, even if you’re together. 
0/10, not very helpful, would not recommend. 
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Saint Germain
Knows a decent amount of what to expect and how to aid you should you request it. 
He’s well-educated and very well-traveled, so he’s encountered quite a few different cultural views of menstruation. 
Does, however, expect you to take care of the more messy parts of it.
He will offer you back rubs or make tea, but aside from him being aware of your current condition, he doesn’t change the way he treats you much at all. 
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Sala:
Gets high key disgusting with it
Asks if you can gather all your bloody rags in a big bowl so he can perform some satanic ritual with it. (You’re like… Um, no??? Unless you’re cray-cray too, which, if you’re with him, has a fair chance of ringing true.) 
Will tell everyone else in the monastery about it cuz he’s a freak like that.
Keeps reminding you how in your current state, you would be a perfect sacrifice for the Great Lord Dracula… Ya know, because of the blood thing?
Subtly is NOT his strong suit
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Varney: 
The entity also known as Death knows your cycle better than you do lol.
Keeps a mental calendar in his head, and starts peppering you with more kisses than usual a few days before your bleeding starts. 
Just really wants to get on your good side. And wants you to recall in the coming days, how sweet he was to you, so you know, you don’t take all your anger and frustration out on him. 
Very little scares him, he is Death after all. But aside from people not dying and Belmont giving him another go, your mood swings on your period scare the hell out of him. 
He’s not a patient man, and by day seven, Varney feels rather demoralized after being encumbered by his partner’s common human condition. 
Begs Ratko for help. Is promptly told to piss off. 
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Ratko: 
Doesn’t react, except to tell you that you smell so much better this way. 
He delivers that line in such a deadpan too, you almost misunderstand what he’s talking about.
Admits that he’d be willing to ‘clean you up’, should you find that arousing.
Regards you the same, but does find himself staying closer to you than normal, for fear the other vampires and night creatures around you will find your scent so enticing and try to take what’s his.
Challenges anyone who looks your way longer than five seconds. Partly as a means to protect his claim over you, but mainly because he rather enjoys the combat practice.
651 notes · View notes
azrielbrainrot · 4 months
Text
I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 7
Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Description: The time to restore your memories has finally come.
Warnings: Violence, Death (well not really)
Word Count: 4600
Notes: This is the moment of truth, our girl finally gets some answers. Hope you enjoy!
Part 6 ○ Part 8
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It hasn't even been a full day since you killed Norris in that dark cell, but you've never felt better. The moment his heart stopped beating, you started breathing easier. It felt like the weight of the world fell off your shoulders, and knowing you will never have to kill or hurt someone at his orders brought you an amount of relief you never thought you would be able to feel. The days of stretching yourself thin to do his and the guild's bidding at the cost of your conscience were finally gone, you truly couldn't believe it.
You weren't so naive to think the guild would allow you to walk away so easily after not only deserting and sharing classified information about the organization, but also killing one of their best members. They would surely send out assassins to find and kill you, to silence you lest you tell the courts of Prythian too much about them - this is precisely how the guild has managed to survive in the shadows for so long after all, by disposing of any possible threat to the organization. But, with the backing of the Night Court and Azriel's endless support, you didn't feel so threatened, especially after witnessing their power and resilience while helping you with this whole situation. Rhysand has also already gotten more than enough information from Norris' mind to give you enough of an edge. Most of all, you weren't alone for the first time in your life.
The only thing that was still missing were your memories, the main part of the plan and the exact reason you were currently sitting in this foreign room while the High Lord prepared himself to enter your mind and destroy the spell keeping them locked out of your reach. You've been told this was the room you and Azriel had shared in the townhouse before you passed. An interesting choice made by the High Lady for such a somber spell to occur in, though you understand the sentiment behind her decision. With some luck, this place could act as a jumpstart to the process if needed. It would also be good for you in case regaining your memories somehow erases the recent ones.
If it were up to you, this would have happened right after Norris was killed, it could have been in that same damp and bloody cell for all you cared, but Azriel and the others insisted on waiting, letting you and Rhysand rest your bodies and minds before attempting such a delicate procedure.
Azriel also had to go and find the witch's tool Norris used, although that had taken him less than an hour since Rhysand had stolen that information directly from Norris' mind, and he had been back before you even had the chance to finish bathing. Apparently your theory that the tool had to be close to him was correct, and so your handler had hidden it not far from where your meeting had occurred. After he died, the glamour placed on it fell apart, and Azriel's shadows easily found it in the exact place Rhysand had told him it would be in.
The tool was nothing more than a simple amulet. It was easy to overlook the small ruby hanging from a delicate golden chain if it weren't for the strange, dark aura that clung to it, even Azriel's shadows seemed to recoil from it. It was hard to believe such a small object could cause so much destruction and hurt so many people.
Using the tool shouldn't prove to be too complicated for Rhysand either since he has seen Norris' memories of using it - you asked him to share these with you, but he refused, not wanting you to see that cruel male ruin your life and the state your body was in when Norris found you lying in a pool of your own blood in the forest, somehow still alive despite the wound and how long it had been, you decided to wait for your memories to come back before asking him again, the old you had to know how to convince him better - and, after dismissing the wards around your memories with its help, the rest should fall under standard daemati capabilities, which he already excelled at. Even keeping the amulet inactive and safe would be easy enough. Amren seemed to already have made preparations to keep it safe in the court, and a wicked glint in her eyes at the prospect of having such a tool in their arsenal - you really were glad they were on your side now.
The only standing problem and the reason the atmosphere in the room was so tense, was the lack of knowledge on the spell itself, and, more importantly, how dispelling it would affect you. The wards were placed in your mind a century ago, and had been active without pause for that long. Even Norris didn't seem to know the spell's full power or what ramifications could linger after it's gone from what Rhysand was able to learn in his mind. It's safe to assume that there's a big chance of your mind not being able to assimilate back, or even survive it.
You could almost feel Azriel's anxiety and fear as if they were your own, and, even if he would never ask that of you, you knew he didn't want you to go through with this. It was painfully obvious on his face - the spymaster was a lot easier to read then you would have guessed before meeting him. Azriel would rather have you like this than not at all, and you can't blame him for that as you don't know what it feels like to lose someone you love, let alone being on the verge of it happening for the second time, but that's precisely why you need to do this.
From what he has told you, you lived a full life before Norris had found you, and it doesn't feel right trying to fit back into place when you can't recall any of it, when you don't feel the same as you once did, when you don't know if you're still the same person. It would be impossible to even attempt to live a normal life with the constant reminder that a full century of your life, almost everything that you knew about yourself, had been a lie.
His hazel eyes meet yours as you shift on the mattress, impatiently waiting for Rhysand to finish his preparations. In truth, you don't think he has looked away from you for a second ever since you walked into this room, walked back into his life even.
You give him a small smile, hopefully quelling some of his nerves. He tries to return it, but you don't need your memories or the decades of knowing him to see right through it. It didn't reach his eyes, the concern so visible there it made a lump form in your throat, and his shadows were clinging to him almost desperately, trying to soothe their singer as best as they could, to no avail. You wished you knew how to comfort him, and how to let him comfort you properly in turn - yet another reason to go through with this.
“Are you ready?” Rhysand's voice makes you jump slightly and break eye contact with your husband, not even realizing you'd gotten lost in the warm hazel of his eyes once again.
“Yes,” you nod, straightening your back and placing your palms firmly on the mattress, risking one last look at Azriel before focusing on the High Lord.
“We can start then.”
You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, scared even - your life was on the line after all, but this was your only chance of getting rid of that aching empty well inside of you, and if Azriel was convinced Rhysand was capable of doing so, then you believed him.
The High Lord was also worried though, if it wasn't obvious by the way his mate kept touching his arm and squeezing his hand, the lack of his usual obnoxious confidence would have given it away. If he failed he would not only lose his friend again, but also break his brother's heart beyond repair. You even think he'd end up blaming himself, though it didn't seem to fit in with the image you initially had of him. It's not an exaggeration to say your life is in his hands.
Feyre helps him wrap the amulet around his wrist as if it were a bracelet, squeezing his hand one more time before joining Azriel a few steps away, a conflicted look falling over her face as she watches her friend, not knowing how to comfort him. Even Amren, who stood by the door with crossed arms, looked concerned. If you weren't already more than curious enough to risk your life to regain your memories, the fact that such a creature would look worried about you would definitely make you want to remember everything just to find out exactly how that came to happen.
Rhysand walks to you then, stopping right in front of your legs dangling off the bed, close enough that your feet almost touch his shins, and lets out a soft but weary breath, looking into your eyes as if searching for any sign of doubt. When he seems to be content with what he finds in them, he reaches over and holds your head between his hands softly.
“It might help me keep grounded in your mind. Every little trick is worth a try,” he explains when he sees your confused expression, the smile he throws at you not quite reaching his purple eyes either, before closing his eyes, his magic coming to life around you.
In the next moment, you feel black talons scraping at your mental walls, prompting you to close your eyes as well and fight against every one of your instincts to allow the High Lord passage into your mind. You try to keep your thoughts as blank as possible so Rhysand can find what he's looking for more easily, like he said, every trick is worth a try.
You don't exactly know what you were expecting, but definitely not for it to happen so fast. Just as you felt a knock at what you now could distinguish as the wards keeping your memories from surfacing, they came tumbling down, an acute pain at the base of your skull making you fist the sheets under your hands, biting your lip to stop yourself from making any noise or moving too much. You didn't want to break Rhysand's concentration, or worry Azriel and the others more than necessary, you could handle it.
The pain goes as suddenly as it started, and you could feel Rhysand's presence everywhere as he searched through your mind. It was a foreign feeling, to know someone could read into your every thought. Even if he dove into a different corner of your mind, one you hadn’t agreed to, there was no way for you to stop him now, no way for you to stop him from seeing all the awful things you've done at the guild's orders, no way to stop him from showing them to Azriel if he so wished. In the midst of your spiraling thoughts, a soft caress reaches you through your mind, a reassurance - you almost forgot he could hear your fears as well.
A few moments later, you feel him come to a sudden stop, the lull barely giving you a chance to breathe before memories start rushing into your brain at an alarming speed, so much so that your head physically hurts, a lot worse than before. It's like you can feel the memories forming into your brain and pushing away the ones constructed by the spell. Some of them you were vaguely aware of as they seemed to haunt you when you slept, like dreams overwriting reality but, with every second that passes and every moment shown to you, you realize they had never been dreams to begin with.
Your mind struggles to hold onto everything, your past memories eating away at what you had believed was your life mere minutes ago. You faintly feel Rhysand's, now achingly familiar, presence leave your mind, his hands lingering a second longer, thumb caressing your cheek comfortingly before following, letting you have some privacy to assimilate the onslaught of information on your own, and then the world goes dark, senses completely overwhelmed, barely registering the feeling of your body falling back into the mattress and scarred hands holding onto you, as your mind struggles to catch up to everything.
Your feelings seem to reach you before the memories even have a chance to sink into your mind, or for you to go through them and remember everything properly. The strongest ones are easily your love for Azriel, flowing over you in suffocating waves, and the subsequent anger at yourself that follows, for abandoning him and then hurting him so much. It's like some little voice inside you that had been screaming at you, and trying to claw its way out from under your skin, trying to stop you from hurting him, was finally able to be heard.
As you rake through the memories, remembering all the happy moments you and Azriel have spent together, - every little date, every kiss, every morning night and morning spent together, - and even the saddest ones, - the fights spent yelling at each other in the rain and the make up sex right up against your front door - the guilt only gets heavier in your chest, tying itself around your heart and almost making you unable to breathe.
You stabbed your husband, the love of your life, the male you had vowed to protect and love to the end of your days. Even if you had been controlled by whatever dark magic was in your brain, you can still feel the weight of Truth Teller in your hand, could feel the faint resistance of his skin against the decisive force of your movement, could feel his blood on your hands, could feel so much blood on your hands. Gods, what have you become?
It almost feels like there's two people inside you for a few moments, trying to make sense of each other as the world collapses and re-forms itself around them. As one part of you lives through memories in the night court, the other balks at all you've done at the guild, mourns an innocence you will never be able to get back. You don't know where you begin and the assassin ends, where Azriel's wife even fits in the equation.
Trying to stay on track, and desperately hold onto something in the incessant waves of memories, real and fake, and the feelings attached to them, you try to calm yourself enough to try to remember what happened the night you died. You knew your throat had been cut with a faebane laced weapon, the scar would always be etched into your skin, but you never knew how it happened. For some reason, you never even thought of asking anyone in the guild about it, like you didn't consider it pertinent information - no doubt, a consequence of the spell Norris used on you. If you started asking questions you might have found out something you weren't supposed to.
That particular night is still somewhat hazy in your mind, likely a consequence of the trauma you experienced. There are broken memories of you talking about the mission with Azriel and the rest of the Inner Circle. You recall not feeling the least bit nervous about it as they were simple bandits that somehow had gotten lucky and managed to evade Azriel's shadows for a little while before getting caught. You remember getting a few leads on them, and splitting up to try and find something. The feeling of Azriel's lips on yours as he quickly kissed you goodbye before disappearing into his shadows is still vivid in your mind.
After that things start getting muddled. You found the bandits at some point, and, even if there were more of them than what you expected, they didn't seem particularly strong so you were holding up your own in the fight that broke out as soon as they saw you. The next thing you knew though, someone had struck you from behind, hitting the back of your head hard enough that it brought you to your knees, the same person grabbing your hair and slicing your throat the next moment, not giving you a chance to avoid it. There's a break in your memories then.
All you can remember at first is your body feeling heavy, not being able to get your limbs to obey your commands as you struggled to flip yourself over so you weren't laying face down on the mud, the cold rain falling on your skin uninterrupted. Trying to take a breath into your lungs only to find it almost impossible and extremely painful. You remember the coppery taste in your mouth distinctly, not being able to swallow or make any sound through your destroyed throat. The thought that the knife had to have been laced with something was swimming around your mind, a simple cut like that wouldn't have been hard for your fae healing to handle.
You were vaguely aware of the voices around you but couldn't make any sense of what they were saying, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears and panic was starting to set in. The only thing you were sure of at that moment was that you were going to die on that muddy floor at the hands of petty thieves, this possibility not allowing you to even try to make out what they were saying, not caring about them anymore.
Azriel always told you that you needed to work on your openings so things like this didn't happen, so you didn't get caught off guard. He was right, he usually was, not that you would have ever admitted it to his face. The thought of your husband brings tears to your unfocused eyes. You wished you could have had more time with him. He has brought you an amount of love and happiness you didn't even think possible, and all you'll give him in return is pain. You promised him you would stay by his side to the end of your days, assured him you would never leave him multiple times when his nightmares became too much to bear and old insecurities made themselves known.
You made one last prayer to the Mother. Begging for your life wasn't worth it anymore, but you still asked that Azriel could survive this, that he would forget about you and move on. You had always wanted to give him the best, had vowed to make him as happy as possible but were failing miserably like this. The news of your death would break him, you didn't even want to imagine how he would feel when he found out. Fuck, you hoped he wouldn't be the one to find your body at least.
What a cruel fate. Making him go through so much hardship and pain in his life and still take one of the few blessings he had found for himself. You've only been married for a little over a decade, such an insignificant amount of time compared to the years he had behind him, and hopefully still ahead of him. You'd never forgive the Mother for making him suffer so much.
As your thoughts quiet, you notice the lack of voices around you. Apparently the killers had just left you there, bleeding out on the cold ground, not even bothering to finish the job properly. They didn't have to, you didn't need to be a healer to know your injuries would kill you in not even another minute. Your senses were getting duller with every painful beat of your heart, you couldn't even hear the sounds of the birds coming from the forest behind you anymore, couldn't focus on your thoughts, could barely see the light of the moon and the stars shining in the dark sky. It feels fitting for you to die at night, it was as close to Azriel as you could get now, watching the same moon shining under him, the same one you had fallen in love under.
As you gaze upon the brilliant light of the moon, wishing you would have had the chance to say goodbye, a tightness settles in your chest, somehow making it pump faster, lessening the ache ever so slightly. The feeling is unlike any other, you mistakenly think it to be your body dying off before a breath is once again allowed into your lungs, easier than before. You blink a few times then, trying to search your surroundings for anyone with the limited control you had over your body, only to come up short. If anyone was healing you, there would be no reason for them to keep hiding. You've also had to be healed after an injury plenty of times, enough to know what it feels like and how effective it can be. This felt different somehow, and it didn't seem to be fully healing you as you could still feel your wound bleeding, your throat still as painful as it had been.
Azriel's familiar scent reaches you and mixes with your own. Your chest grows tight once more, body temperature somehow rising despite the cold rain and lack of blood, before an overwhelming feeling washes over you, traveling to every inch of your being as things suddenly click into place.
This was a mating bond.
Your sobs return at the realization, even more inconsolable than before, fingers digging into the bloody mud under you at the unfairness of it all. You could feel Azriel as if he was under your skin for a moment, smell him like he was standing over you, when in reality he was nowhere to be found, when you wouldn't be able to see him ever again.
Mating bonds are extremely rare and precious, most fae yearn for one chance of a love as powerful as a bond like this can bring. So why would the Mother waste it on you? Why not bind Azriel to someone who can stand by his side? Why not show it to you sooner, so you could have at least enjoyed it for a while? You've never heard of a bond forming as one person is about to die, when the other isn't even close - usually all it takes is a simple glance, the right exchange or words, rarely happening years after knowing someone.
What was the purpose of this? Why must life be so cruel? You almost want to hope it was a mistake, but the visceral reaction your body has at the thought, even in this state, doesn't allow you to. Azriel was yours, even if only for this laughable amount of time. You had a mate, one you would be able to tell your parents about when death came for you and took you to them.
Those were the thoughts swirling around your mind as you let out what would have been your last breath. Crying every tear left in your body, looking up at the moon and praying for the Mother to take the bond away, or not allow Azriel to feel it because, as much as it hurt you, you knew it would kill him to not only lose you but also lose a mate.
You had found it strange when Rhysand had told you Norris had found you alone in the forest, your body already cold, only a drop of blood still allowing you to cling onto life, but this explains it. The bond had somehow kept you alive long enough for Norris to find you, and take you to a healer at the guild like Rhysand saw. You had been long unconscious when he did, and so you didn't have any memory of any of it. You were also pretty sure the thieves might have been working for him, which explains how they had evaded Azriel's shadows for so long.
The answers regarding your death, the ones you had been aching to learn, now paled in comparison to what you had just unknowingly stumbled upon. You had a mate. You almost couldn't believe it, but the bond made itself known now that it was free from the wards' confines, shining bright deep inside you, linking you to someone through a strong but neglected bridge, still holding on after a century, and you know just where that bridge leads, shadows lurking over the other side.
You come to slowly, your mind aware of your consciousness before your body can follow. It's like you've never been this deeply asleep, the feeling of deja vu hitting you immediately. Perhaps that's why it takes you longer to realize you weren't lying down on a bed, not directly at least. There was a body under you, holding you close to him, enough so that you could hear his heartbeat as your head rested on his chest. You know it's Azriel right away, his touch and scent so unmistakable to you now, you don't know how it had been possible to ever forget it.
And the bond. You can feel it now, can feel something connecting the two of you, etched so deep into your soul that it almost feels impossible that you've been blind to it for so many years. Maybe because you've left it abandoned all this time, but you can literally feel it purr in satisfaction now, making it hard to focus on anything else.
You don't know how long you had been out for, the sun had set in the sky and everyone seemed to have left you two alone, the faint, lingering smell of Rhys' expensive cologne mixed with one scent you've only discovered recently, the only thing left behind. Gods, you can't believe both Cassian and Rhys had mates too.
Azriel had moved to lean against the headboard, sitting you across his lap, holding you close to him and resting your head against his chest as he rubbed slow circles up and down your arm soothingly. You didn't have to see him to know he had called his shadows over the both of you, keeping you safe in his arms as he waited for you to wake up, just like he always did.
Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes, not being able to restrain yourself from looking at your mate for another second. He must have been distracted or falling asleep himself because he tenses softly when you stir and rise up from his chest, hand moving up to hold your cheek adoringly the moment your eyes meet his wide, hazel ones.
You can see the questions swirling in his gaze, can almost taste the anxiety, but relief conquers every other emotion. As much as he wanted to know you were back, he was glad you had at least survived. Keeping him in suspense would be cruel of you, especially after making him wait a hundred years, you don't think you could bear another second either.
“Hello, Az,” you whisper softly, emotion tightening your throat. He lets out a sigh of relief, one that came from the depths of his soul and brings tears to his eyes. He leans his forehead against yours, stealing your breath away as a tear rolls down your cheek unattended.
“Welcome back, my love.”
286 notes · View notes
shooting-love-arrows · 10 months
Note
A villian yandere? Not like those cartoon villian but the one that actually make the reader feel fearful, not because the villian is physicaly scary or something but the villian is so cunning, sly and manipulative like the knave from genshin or fyodor from bsd
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 x reader (gender not mentioned/specified/implied) TW. manipulation, isolation, holding reader against her will, stockholm syndrome, dark yandere, flag so red my eyes hurts, unhinge, yandere behavior. A/N: Inspired by manhwas I've read so far. I'm on a roll guys. I didn't expect it to be this long too but man, he's one crazy creation.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Who isolates you to the point of insanity. It is widely known humans are social creatures and we need social interactions. However, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 used this fact to his advantage. Knowing that after a while people go mad when they don’t interact with other people, he decided to do just that. At first his manipulation is subtle: hidden suggestions about who is right to hand with and who's not. Little yet meaningful words weaved between innocent sentences. Then when he saw his tactics working, he began to get bolder. As the group of people becomes smaller (thanks to him) 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 starts to outwardly say they aren't people you should associate with. They are a bad influence and did you know they said this and that behind your back? Real friends don’t do that! He doesn’t do that! That's when comments about how you don't need anyone but him, who always stays by your side and was right about what he told you, each and every time. Your family isn't safe from his doings either. He never fails to drive you away from them. Suddenly they are people who lead you on and make a fool out of you. A black sheep of the family. You just had to see! Before you know it, you are completely alone with only him to talk and listen to.
"I'm just looking out for you like a best friend should be doing." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 wanted to vomit when he said those two, blasted words.
Who snaps and ends up locking you up. Now that you're completed isolated and you happen to start living with him, he locks you up. In a bedroom with a bathroom attached who only has necessities and nothing you could harm yourself with. You can bang, scratch and kick at the door all you want but those doors won't budge. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 is fully prepared. Those doors were expensive but it was worth it. Those locks could be opened by him and the material it was made of could not be so easily destroyed without certain tools you didn’t have. And you're yelling, begging and crying? It is like music to his ears. He'll often sit at the door and listen to you, basking in your voice, and when you're quiet (either pass out from exhaustion or too tired to continue), he'll pick up from where he ended the last time, manipulating you again. His sentences are repetitive and he wants to drill those into your head. He'll tell you how no one is looking for you, how he's all you need, how he'll take care of you and so on...
"Those people want to hurt you. I am doing this for your own good. If you want, I can bring you something? I was thinkng about tamagochi! They are so cut, aren't they?"
Who has to show you some tough love. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 didn’t expect you to realize just how much he loves you. That’s why he tried to be an understanding partner and be forgiving towards your rash and childish tantrums. But he has his limits too. For example, he notices how you don't eat meals he oh so lovingly has prepared for you. If you don’t want to eat, then he won’t force you. He just doesn't bring you food for the next 2-3 days. Only water. And on the fourth day, he'll bring you a proper meal again. Of course, like he expected, you ate it all. See? It’s not hard to act your age. You don’t see it but 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 smiled in glee when he saw an empty plate. It's a good sign!
"I'm relieved you like the food I prepared for you. I cooked it for the first time but when I saw the recipe I knew you'd like it."
Who you grow to not only fear and love. He is your captor, the one who took away your freedom and cut all ties with society, who manipulates you and ends up breaking you. Who you feared, despised and cursed like he was the source of all evil. But the longer you stayed in the little room that became your whole world, the lines between hater and love began to blurr. Not that you realized it. At some point something switched in your brain and although you feared him, you began to ponder over his words. Maybe he's right? After this period of time, no one ended up looking for you. No one cared enough to do so. And you do only have him. He always makes time for you, brings you delicious meals, and sometimes even gifts you a little trinkets when you act good. Not to mention you live in a nice bedroom with a bathroom too. He never touched you without your consent or forced you to do anything. You could make a choice to bathe whenever you want, pick one of the books he brought you and read and so on. Your brain was suggesting that he is a caring best friend who takes care of you and protects you from all those monserts that want to hurt and bring you down. Soon enough his actions made your heart speed up.
"I knew you'll love me..." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 teared up when he heard your confession. It was worth the waiting becaouse now he can bulit a perfect life he always imagined having with you. "I love too. So, so, so much sometimes it hurts."
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zebulontheplanet · 12 days
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most of the autism stuff i encounter (as a low-support autistic person) revolves pretty much exclusively around ppl with low-support needs, who can easily pass for non-autistic, who don't get diagnosed until well into adulthood bc they look "normal," which maps pretty well onto my own experience (except i was diagnosed very young) but it only represents a fraction of the autistic community. so your blog was a really nice find.
a few questions:
when your aac device runs out of battery, what are your alternatives? are you able to write stuff down instead?
what's the purpose of plaintext? who does it accommodate?
i know when it comes to individuals, you're supposed to ask them whether they prefer to be called nonspeaking or nonverbal, but which do i use as an umbrella term? how do i refer to them as a group? (maybe this is a pointless question bc you're only one person but i'm still curious)
sorry if i misspoke or said anything offensive, like i said i've been inundated with mostly low-support perspectives and today was basically my first time finding anything else
Hello anon! Glad to see you here. I’ll try my best to answer your questions.
If my AAC battery runs out, then I can use my phone. I have my apps on my phone as well for backup. But let’s say my phone and AAC are out of battery, I’d use my partners/caregivers phone, which they have a AAC app downloaded on and the notes app, which I could use to communicate. But let’s say my AAC is dead, my phones dead, and I’m not with my caregiver or my caregivers phone is dead. I’d be shit out on luck. Unless we had a pen and paper with us, I wouldn’t be able to communicate at all besides grunts, pointing, and leading. So yeah, those are very important. It’s very important to have things charged at all times.
Plaintext is important for those with cognitive and intellectual disability. Why? Because some of us can’t understand complicated text. I am one of those people. Some of it I can understand? But a lot of it I can’t. Plaintext is very important and is an accessibility tool. This just doesn’t stop at cognitive and intellectually disabled folk. Many people benefit from plaintext.
This is a hard one, and one I cannot not fully answer because each person will say something different. If someone was to use an umbrella term around me personally, I’d prefer them to use nonverbal. But some people prefer that people use nonspeaking. Again, it all depends and it’s a hard question. Just go with the flow and see what those around you prefer.
Anyways, I hope this helps! If you have any further questions then let me know. Have a lovely day anon!
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strawbeerossi · 1 year
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The Party Trick
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18+ Content. Minors DNI
Pairing: fem!reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After seeing a tutorial on how to pick a lock on handcuffs, reader decides to put it to the test to have a new party trick to show the others at the BAU. After doing it a few times with each hand, she gets bold and cuffs both wrists, leaving her trapped, until Spencer comes over and things get interesting.
Content Warning: Coarse language, panic, fear of embarrassment, restraints, Spencer laughs and teases reader, sub Spencer, Dom reader, mean reader, humiliation fetish, praising, degradation, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex.
Word Count: 3.2K
Y'all, I'm nervous as fuck to post this lmao. This has been in the drafts for a while. I'm not the best with smut because I haven't written it in a while. This is your warning. Read at your own risk.
Part two
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“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Y/N spoke aloud to herself, an agitated huff leaving her lips.
An hour ago, she’d been watching some random YouTube videos, just mainly to pass the time. There was all sorts of dumb shit she watched, although when she came across a video or a man showing how to pick the locks of a handcuff with a bobby pin, it captured her interest. It seemed simple enough, cuff one hand to something beside you then use the bobby pin to pick the keyhole and free yourself.
She had way too much fun as she figured out exactly how to do it, starting with handcuffing herself to the handle on the nightstand. It took about five minutes to get herself free, the woman switching wrists eventually and getting herself freed with more practice.
Then she got cocky. All she could picture was using this as a party trick, having someone handcuff her hands behind her back while she used the pin that she could hide in the palm of her hand to escape. Then everyone would be astonished and impressed. So, she was determined to make that dream a reality.
It all happened so fast. She had the pin in the palm of her right hand, securely held as she used her left to cuff right wrist. In an attempt to close it with her hand still clamped around the pin, she did her best to lock the cuffs around her left wrist. However, in the act of finding a way to lock it, the pin slipped from yer grasp just as she had her wrists cuffed behind her back. 
“Fuck!” She cursed, panic setting in from being trapped without anyone to help her. So, in an awkward attempt to lean down to grab the only thing that could free her, she was bending in all sorts of positions to try and secure the hairpin that was laying on the floor, almost taunting her. Well, now she’d be stuck in her apartment until someone figured out she was missing. Then she’d more than likely have a whole team of people to bust down her door and then laugh at her.
This was the opposite that she wanted. Now she’d be the talk of the team for trapping herself in handcuffs while trying some stupid attempt to free herself. She could already hear all the shit Derek would tease her with now.
“The amazing Y/N, going to show us the special trick that not all fbi agents should be trusted with handcuffs!”
“You know, you shouldn’t play with the tools we are given for the field.”
Derek fucking Morgan.
There was a sigh of defeat as Y/N was accepting her fate of being known for the idiot on the team who gets herself trapped.
However, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she could hear a knock against her apartment door. Thank God! Hopefully it was a family member or something. They’d understand that she did dumb things sometimes and would let her live it down more than her coworkers would.
While hurrying and running from her room like a criminal trying to escape capture with the cool metal of the handcuffs stabbing into their flesh, she was stopping at the front door. “Hold on!” She called, turning around first to try and reach the lock so she could unlock the door. However, when it wasn’t working out, she was huffing from irritation and turning around. She ended up having to use her mouth to unlock the top lock, same with the bottom.
“You’ll have to open the door!” She called, taking a few steps back. However, her heart dropped when she seen who was on the other side of the door. The only reason she was alerted of his presence early was from the way he was asking if she was alright. The moment that Spencer Reid came into view, Y/N face was bright red from embarrassment.
“Not a word of this to the team!” Her voice came out in a squeak, making the genius snort out a laugh as he walked around the woman after closing the door behind him. “How did you even manage to trap yourself?” He asked, not giving her time to answer.
“Y/N Houdini.” He snickered as he was stopping and bringing his hands to run over the metal of the cuffs restraining her arms behind her back. “Is this gonna be your debut into escapism magic? Cause I think you have to actually know how to escape to put on a show.” He continued on.
The words had Y/N’s face growing hotter from the teasing, a huff leaving her lips. “Get your laughs out. Come on.” She demanded while turning around soon after. “Piss me off and I’ll cuff you to your desk at the office and swallow the key.” Of course, all talk and no action from a woman who essentially trapped herself.
“Are you kidding?! I wouldn’t let you. Besides, I’ve seen enough of escapism magic to know how to escape.. Without losing the thing that will grant me freedom.” He commented while grabbing ahold of the cuffs while he chuckled. "Show me where the key is." He spoke, his tone level as the humor of the situation was losing it's power over him.
It wasn't fully lost on him though. In fact, he'd never let her live it down. "You know, the others would've probably forgot about this at some point.." He trailed off, looking around the walls decorated with tapestries, pictures, and some other miscellaneous wall decor. "I, however, will not." He smirked.
Stupid fucking eidetic memory.
"Ha ha. You're hilarious."
"I think you take the cake for being hilarious. Everyone is gonna love this story. I'm sure that even Hotch will get a laugh out of it."
"I hate you."
In reality, it was.. Kinda funny. The thought of seeing someone else on the team in the position she was currently in was enough to make her snort out a laugh of her own. "I'm a fucking idiot, huh?"
The words made Spencer wave her off. "Definitely not a genius but.. Maybe a little smarter than Morgan." His tone was teasing as he was grabbing the small box she showed him that contained the key to the cuffs suspending her.
His first mistake was freeing her, mainly because there was a form of blind trust after being the one to free him.
The minute that Spencer had those cuffs off and was handing her the metallic restraints and turned his back to her, she as using the opportunity to catch him off guard, the male's eyes widening the moment he felt the cold metal against his skin.
"Y/N! What the hell??"
Now it was her turn to laugh, her hands coming up to rest against her mouth. "Now who's the genius, Reid?" She taunted, all in good fun.
Spencer's face was red, eyes on the ground while he had to take in a breath. His body was tense, feeling powerless in the time being.
He was also incredibly turned on by the idea of doing whatever he needed to in order to get out of the cuffs.
The silence grew heavy, tension filling the air. "Oh, come on. Don't be mad at me, Spence. It's all in good fun!" She said while heading over to grab his upper arms. "You are so red," She pouted, her hands cupping the hot skin of his face as he was staring down at the woman, looking as submissive as ever.
That did something to her, a blush creeping up on her face as sinful thoughts began to plague her mind. The thought of leaving a whimpering, sticky mess. The way he'd definitely be the type to beg her for more while she was seated pretty on his lap, doing something like read a book while just being full.
The thoughts had her thighs tightly clenching, arousal surely coating her panties enough to make a wet spot.
Unable to help herself, it wasn't long until the tie around his neck was in her hand, pulling the man down to clash their lips together. The action had Spencer squeaking, although his lips were desperately slotting with hers in a messy kiss. He needed it. He needed her.
It wasn't abnormal for Spencer to have such thoughts, his coworker being on his mind since the moment she joined the team. How could he not be fond of her? She was beautiful, intelligent, plus she was probably the only person who would actually sit and listen to his ramblings whenever something came up.
She was perfect in every way really, however, he knew that there was a long list of things preventing a relationship within the team. Last thing he wanted was for himself or Y/N to be transferred to a different branch.
However his thoughts weren’t particularly on that right now, his body falling back against the plush mattress from a push, not even having time to register what was happening before the woman was straddling his waist. Her hands were on either side of his face, her lips pressing back against his in a more rough, needy kiss.
Spencer's wrists were fighting the cuffs, a huff being muffled against Y/N's lips as he realized that he was being denied the right to touch her, to let his hands caress her smooth skin. His heart was beating against his chest, almost as if it were dying to be released.
All of his thoughts were eventually going out the door the minute he felt the feeling of delicate fingers in his hair. However instead of savoring the feeling of her fingers threading through the messy head of curls, his mouth was agape as soon as her hand was roughly pulling Spencer's hair back.
"I'm gonna fuck you stupid, Dr. Reid."
Oh.
The words were enough to make a moan rip from Spencer’s throat, eyes trained up on the woman who was propping herself up on her knees in order to look down at the man. 
“Cat got your tongue, doctor?” Y/N taunted while she was looking down at the man with a soft smirk. She didn’t even have to touch him and he was already putty in her hands. The way his eyes were trained on her, looking like a puppy begging for more. “‘Cause you were very vocal earlier when you had so much to say.” She mused.
“I-I” The woman was bringing her hands to Spencer’s shoulders, her hips rocking against his while awaiting an answer.
“I’m waiting.” 
“I-I.. Fuck. I don’t have anything to s-say.” He stuttered, bucking his hips to try and relieve the pressure from his cock that was already standing at attention. “Who would’ve thought Spencer Reid would be quiet when someone is trying to talk to him? You don’t have any facts? Statistics?” She continued dragging on, nudging Spencer’s body back in order to have him lay down in the middle of the queen sized bed. 
“Give me a statistic about..” She was looking around her bedroom while sliding down Spencer’s legs. “Ooh! A statistic about dominant and submissive dynamics..” She dragged out the word ‘submissive’ as her hands were slowly moving to unbutton his pants. His head was spinning, brain mush.
“A study showed that,” He paused as her fingers were quickly tugging down the zipper before her hands were pulling the slacks down his legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She commented, her eyebrow raising as her movements came to a halt. “T-that 51% of men and 39-” His eyes were fluttering shut the minute he felt her mouth now ghosting over his hard cock in his underwear, her tongue licking over the wet spot of his boxers.
“39% of women are attracted to the idea of having a d-dominant or submissive partner..” He stuttered out, now lifting his hips in hopes of feeling those delicate fingers in the waistband of his boxers. Which, his wish was granted. “That’s really interesting, isn’t it? Good job, baby.” She hummed.
As his cock was revealed to her, she was grinning. His tip was red, beads of pre-cum rolling down his angry, desperate cock. “So pretty!” She praised, laying on her stomach between his legs as her hand was wrapping around the thick base of his cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip to smear the mess around.”Who knew Dr. Reid was hiding this? Always the shy and smart ones, huh?” She commented, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock.
Spencer could hear her talking, however he wasn’t responding. His brain was clouded, head falling back against the pillow that rested behind his head. “F-fuck.” He hissed, her tongue now running over the underside of the genius’ cock, cleaning up the mess that she’d already caused. 
Her hands came out to rest firmly against his hips, holding him down from bucking like he so desperately tried to do. “P-please..” He let out a slow breath as his eyes were fluttering shut. His voice was shaking, tone laced with need and more desperation than she could’ve expected.
She smiled while licking over his cock one more time before granting him yet another desperate plea that fell from his lips in the form of a whimper. As her lips closed around his cock, she let her eyes flutter shut. Her tongue was flat, her head beginning to move in a slow motion. She was hollowing her cheeks while bobbing her head, her own moans vibrating around his already desperate cock. As she let her grip tighten on his hips, her eyes were opening to peak up at him through her eyelashes.
His curls were disheveled, his head thrown back as his chest was rapidly rising and falling. The strangled sounds of whimpers and pleads for more falling from his lips. It was a beautiful sight, she knew that much. 
Spencer wasn’t the only one wildly turned on, Y/N’s panties being absolutely drenched at this point. From her position, she could rock her hips against the mattress, just wanting to relieve the pressure in her clit as she could practically feel her heartbeat in the bundle of nerves. She was growing desperate herself, needing to feel his cock inside her, stretching her out with the delicious burn that came with it.
She was pulled from her thoughts when she could feel the twitch of his cock, indicating he was close. That was her cue to pull off with a loud ‘pop’ echoing through the room along with a small whine falling from Spencer's lips. That whine was enough to make her clench around nothing.
“Shush.” She breathed while wiping the spit from her jaw with her thumb, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she was eventually standing, enough to shimmy her pants and panties down her legs to reveal her glistening cunt. Spencer’s eyes were trailing slowly up her now bare legs, eyes coming to her pussy while his mouth was open, pupils blown out from lust. “Please let me touch you. Wanna- Fuck- Wanna be able to-” He was cut off by her lips, the two sharing a chaste kiss before her teeth were sinking into his lower lip, giving it a playful tug before letting it go. 
“Not this time.” She spoke softly, her lips kissing him once more before she was crawling over him again, her hands running over his clothed chest while moving between them.
As soon as she had his cock in her hands, all sense of reason went out the window. To be fair, neither of them were really thinking of a condom right now. 
After teasing herself by tapping his tip against her clit, she sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Spencer.” She whispered, eventually sinking down his base. Her head was lolling forward, her mouth agape as she was sinking fully, their pelvises now flush against one another’s. “Holy fuck.”
Spencer on the other hand had to think of anything other than cumming inside of her before she even got a chance to even ride him. However, he felt like she’d ultimately end up overstimulating him in that scenario. He didn’t want that now though. No, he’d rather wait until he didn’t have fucking metal preventing him from gripping onto her hips, letting him fuck up into her rather than be forced to watch her have every ounce of control and power. Even though he had to admit, he could get used to this. 
As her velvety walls were clenching around his cock, she was leaning forward slightly as her hips were rolling against his, her head falling forward as she cried out softly. With the length that Spencer had, the right angle would have his tip pushing perfectly against the spongy spot deep inside her that was making her see stars already. 
“F-fuck. You f-feel amazing.” It was Spencer's turn to talk, watching the way her tits were bouncing with every movement, even with a clothed torso, she had the man below salivating at the thought of what lay below that blue cardigan. “You take m-my cock so well.” Even through the grunts and groans, there was still a hint of him being unsure. This wasn’t really something he did often, so here we was, doing something he’d seen once or twice in the few pornos he’d consumed at some point. “Ah! Fuck, Reid. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, you- ugh.” Y/N breathed, continued her motions  while doing her best to quicken her pace, even though her bounces were growing a bit sloppy, her legs getting tired. 
With the grip of his tie and a loud cry of his name, it wasn’t long until she was creaming on his cock, a thin veil of sweat on her face as she was continuing her movements. “Fuck. You gonna cum, Reid? Wanna fill me up? She spoke, the words sending electricity through the man’s body as his cock was twitching once more.
He’d done his best to thrust his hips upward, a low groan leaving his lips as he only needed a few more movements before his vision went white.
Y/N was a whimpering mess, feeling the warm gush of cum that Spencer was coating her inner walls with, the woman’s upper body gently falling forward as her eyes flutter shut. 
They laid there for a while, the woman clutching tightly onto her close friend while trying to catch her breath. “Remind me to carry around those handcuffs more often.” She spoke, a light laugh leaving her lips as she was lifting her hips and moving off of him soon after.
“Maybe don’t get yourself trapped next time..” Spencer chuckled, now looking over at the woman as she was sitting him up, finally using the key to free his wrists from their restraints. “Feel like you owe me now..” He began, the woman laughing as she placed the cuffs on her bedside table. 
“Spencer Reid, are you really asking me for round two right now?” She asked, making the man give a cheeky smile.
“Maybe if you’re the one in the handcuffs this time.”
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tvxqmylove · 11 months
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Let's raise our glasses to Izzy and OFMD creators
I just have to get it off my chest, I understand Izzy's death came as a shock and very upsetting event for many, and a lot of people are going on and on about how he deserved a better fate and how he was not just some tool to serve someone else's story. Please try to calm down and see the bigger picture. 
It is now clear that he was always meant to die. It was foreshadowed in the first minute of the second season, a ridiculous, villain's death. Being the symbolic obstacle to Stede and Ed's happiness. 
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Of course that was the wrong way for him to go. When he confessed to his crush Blackbeard he got shot by him, almost died, begged to be killed, and then he even tried to kill himself. Still didn't work. It wasn’t his time yet and that was the wrong way for him to go. When he learned that he was loved and cared for after all, just not in the way he expected, he changed. He became positive, he became forgiving. Then he stopped being miserable he started genuinely wishing for the happiness of others as well, instead of being bitter about it. His death might not have a point but his life did. He had the crew's and Ed's and even Stede's back, and they knew it. As David Jenkins stated, he played the role of a wise mentor that was passing along his life experiences to others. Then it was his time. Also, as foreshadowed, he symbolically took away Blackbeard, and opened a way for Stede and Ed as well.
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A happy ending is not only walking off to sunset with a lover, taking up a new job or walking into a house of your family and petting your dog before you close the door. A good death, and a life well-lived is a happy ending. Leaving behind people that loved you is a happy ending. This was a happy ending for him. 
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He lived the way he wanted, as a pirate, an infamous one that has received respect and recognition. Then he resolved the parts of his life that became problematic and toxic, he repaired the relationships
that was broken, he forgave the people he needed to forgive. After going through hell, he was basically a bubble of positivity, going around giving solid advices, encouraging people and partying. He was done. He gave the best damn speech of his life at a bar like giving his own eulogy and it was awesome. He died at the arms of the person he loved the most. 
Yes he could have had more, everyone that ever died could have had more. But he died gracefully and complete, surrounded by people he loved and cared about, knowing that they will be fine. That was his story. I am sad that he died, but he died beautifully, best you can hope for in a pirate life. And he will live on, in the hearts of the people he touched by his existence. 
Finally, never harass the creators. It is their hard work that gave us Izzy in the first place. Trust their creative process, and afterwards take it or leave it, do not harass them and try to put them in a box of your personal demands. If so, what kind of 3rd season can we even expect?
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autistpride · 4 months
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AUTISM ACCEPTANCE
Teacher AU from April's prompts by @wolfstarmicrofic
Wordcount: 998
Remus had been waiting for this day for years. Nearly a decade, but the waitlist was seven years long and he was low on the priority list because he wasn’t in a mental health crisis and had a somewhat stable home and job situation, but after nine years, he finally got the calls.
Remus first began to suspect he might be autistic when he began teaching. Remus taught at the primary level, year one, and all of the students in his class were autistic. He related to his students and seemed to understand them on a level most of the other teachers could not. He spent his own money changing his room up, buying sensory tools and various items. In the end his students thrived and Remus was so proud of them.
As the years passed, Remus gained a reputation for being quirky, odd, and a bit too into the fandom for the book series he was into. But despite being a bit of a “loner” and not developing much of a relationship with his coworkers, Remus was beloved by his students and as a result, their families.
Remus set up his assessments during the half term, or tried too, but his final meeting was during a school day and that was unfortunately unable to be rescheduled due to the psychologists busy schedule. 
Remus explained to his students the day before his appointment that he would not be at the classroom Friday morning. He would be at a doctor’s appointment and they would have a substitute teacher until lunch time. Naturally they had questions, as all curious children do.
“Mr. Lupin, are you sick?”
“No, Hermione, I’m not sick. Just a meeting.” 
“Do you promise you’ll be back at lunch time to get us from the playground?”
“Yes, Harry, I promise. I will be standing at the side ready to collect you from the playground at the end of your break.”
“Do you have a baby in you?”
This one caused Remus to snort. “No Ron, I don’t have a baby in my belly. I know you have a little sister coming soon though huh?” Remus asked the boy who beamed and nodded. 
“Are you going to die?”
“No I am absolutely not dying, Draco. You don’t have to worry. You are going to be stuck with me all year!” Remus said in a low tone crouched down and wiggling his fingers like a monster.
This caused a bout of giggles from the young children and Remus chuckled before helping them pack up for the day.
Friday morning he rose early, packed everything he needed for the day, and rode the bus the hour to the city. He sat and listened as the psychologist explained he did in fact meet the criteria for autism and after years of waiting, he was officially diagnosed. The psychologist explained that it wasn’t uncommon for trans males to go undiagnosed their whole lives because many doctors were biassed against females as well as people of colour. They kept asking if Remus was okay, if he was upset or needed any support because they knew that hearing this information was a lot. 
But Remus just felt relief and peace. He finally felt like it all made since, his whole life
The bus ride back to the village Remus teared up as he texted his best friend Lily that he got it and she replied instantly with many hugs and heart emojis and then a message saying that she knew he would and that she was proud of him.
Remus walked from the bus stop to the school and buzzed in through the staff entrance in the back with his badge. He placed all his stuff in his locker in the staff lounge, made sure his badge was the right way on his lanyard, and made his way to the enclosed play area where his students would be.
Slowly, one at a time, his students noticed his arrival and ran around finding the other classmates to tell them that he was there. Then without warning they screamed and ran over to him, tackling him with hugs, causing Remus to laugh as he hugged them back.
Soon the students were all lining up to go back into the classrooms, but Remus was confused, the substitute wasn’t there. He asked where Mr. Black was and Luna said that he stayed behind because he had something he had to do in the classroom since Mr. Lupin would be there to get them. Remus was confused and puzzled because he had prepared all the materials for the day’s lessons and there was nothing that needed to be prepared during the lunch period. 
They made their way back to the classroom in a line, Remus walking backwards like a professional at this point, directing his students in their songs for things like planets, continents and oceans, and skip counting as they walked. They entered the classroom one at a time ahead of him and when he turned to walk through the doorway he froze.
His entire classroom was decorated for a party, his students sitting on the reading rug holding onto little drawings. In the back, Sirius held up a small cake. “Congratulations!” written on the whiteboard in Sirius’ beautiful loopy cursive. 
Remus’ hands quickly covered his mouth in surprise as he looked around and took it all in. “Oh,” he whispered.
“Class what do we say to Mr. Lupin?” Sirius asked with a cheeky grin.
The entire class erupted into screams of “ONE OF US! ONE OF US!” 
Remus threw his head back and laughed despite the happy tears that welled in his eyes. 
Remus had never felt confident before in his life. Never felt like he actually fit someplace before until now. 
And if he bit his lip to try to hide his smirk and raised his eyebrows at Sirius when he had Sirius’ number in his phone after years of pining, well who could blame him. 
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miharuki · 6 months
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I'm going to create a master list just for this series, to be more organized.
Again remembering, my English is not perfect, so sorry for any mistakes
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖔(𝖎𝖓𝖊) 𝔈𝔭.02
"(Name), are you there?" - Waking up suddenly, you recognize the voice in your head. You look at the boys sleeping in the camp, realizing the situation you're still in. You look down at your lap, sighing for not being at home. The voice of your young highness in your head seems to fade, although it's not strange, it's a bit unusual for your highness to speak to you like that. You hope to be able to return home; until then, you need to try to find a way.
Even though several days had passed, the group was clearly noticing that you didn't want to be there, perhaps feeling uncomfortable with the fact that everyone was male. That's what Sky presumed and got everyone to agree upon.
"They hardly even talk," Hyrule said as he looked into the fire. At that moment, you had gone out to see if there were any monsters around the camp. With that, everyone could now talk about you without fear of disturbing you.
"Well, we're practically strangers to them, what do you expect?" Legend said as he looked at the group, making everyone ponder.
"Well, we know she comes from a Hyrule, that's clear from what we can see. Moreover, when we asked that question, they didn't deny coming from a Hyrule," Sky said as everyone agreed.
"We also can't forget about her clothes. Despite being different, it's practically the same as a Hyrule's," Warrior continues, making the group agree. Your clothes were totally different from theirs, but the fact that they were different yet similar made them think you could be some kind of fan, if not for the two sword sheaths at your waist.
"They also carry swords like us, but when I tried to get a better look, they were covered, and I couldn't see if it's really a sword," Wind completes Warrior, recounting the time when you and he were alone.
Time seems to ponder the situation. Your behavior was closed off in the first few days, he still remembers how he met you. You were standing with your foot on the head of a decapitated monster, your gaze seemed empty, and there were two more decapitated around, but there was no sign of any tool or weapon you could have used. You probably put it away as soon as you finished, since one of your hands was holding your sword sheath while the other seemed to be holding something hanging from your waist. Whatever it was, your hand was slightly red, as was your face, which only had a blood stain. Time remembers this perfectly.
When he introduced himself and the others and where they came from, he noticed that you were hesitant about them. When they asked about you, they only gave your name and that you came from a Hyrule, just that, nothing more, almost as if you didn't trust them, which makes sense, and Time understands perfectly. He was the oldest there. "Let's leave them alone for now. Let's not forget that we acted the same way when we first met. Eventually, they'll open up. Until then, it's better not to push too hard," Time said, sighing as he looked at the group, who were sweating profusely.
"Well, let's put that aside-" Sky's speech seems to be interrupted when he hears something approaching. Turning his head, everyone in the group looks to see you dragging what appears to be a dead deer with just one hand, while the other holds a cloth bag stained with black and red blood. Once again, there is a bloodstain on your face as well as your hands stained red, but that's it; the rest is clean. The only sounds coming from you are the noises of the deer being dragged; it seems that your feet don't even make any sound, just like you don't emit any sound.
You drag the deer until you're close to the spot where Wild usually uses the fire to cook. Wild, who was sitting on a log, looks shocked at the sight. He observes as you drop the cloth bag next to the deer, your blood-stained hands on each side of your body. You look at Wild, who quickly gets up as his gaze follows you. The group remains in total silence as they watch the tense situation unfold.
"I-I'll take care of the rest!" Wild stammers, almost tripping over his words. He sees you nod your head slightly in agreement before turning away and walking off.
Stopping on the path you came from, your eyes glance sideways at the group, each in their own corner. You turn back to face forward.
"There's no sign of any monsters. I'll check further around," you say, not waiting to hear the opinions of the others. Without a word, you disappear into the forest, blending into pure silence.
"What the hell was that?" Legend whispers quietly, looking shocked at what just happened. He looks back at Wild, who has cold sweat dripping from his face.
"At least we'll have dinner!" Warrior says, trying to brush off the tension, also sweating profusely. Wild nods as he crouches down to examine the dead deer.
"I think this is more than just dinner. I think… maybe even more than that," Wild says, already starting to take out his knife and carve the meat.
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