So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."
I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.
Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.
And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.
The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.
(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)
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𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞
Yan! God x GN Yan! Reader
Warnings: Gruesome talk, blood, NSFW, Sadist x Sadist, mention of conceiving (miracle talk, no hope though).
"You are the most beautiful songbird in this world, dear."
Just like the songbird you were, you could only chirp and sing like them in this golden cage. The man's golden eyes stared into yours in adoration, his finger poked your cheek playfully every now and then.
How could he not adore his songbird when it took at least millenniums for him to catch you? It was a nice play chase game but he was also a man of needs. He needed to have you in his embrace, in his gilded cage.
"What will you do this time? I won't let you kill yourself to escape anymore."
And he was a man of his word. He would not go back on his words no matter what it took. Even if it meant he had to travel between fragments for millenniums just to find you.
"Oh... my songbird... how beautiful you are with these cuffs on your ankles..."
As though he was petting a bird, his hands ran up and down on your leg, squeezing your thigh every now and then.
"Dressed in white, you really do resemble an angel..."
He held the fabric of your clothes, humming as a glass of wine appeared in his hand. It reminded him of how those lambs' wool was splattered in red as it met its own demise.
"But you see... I enjoy tainting angels... I'm not just some benevolent God like you were..." He spilled the wine onto your clothes, enjoying watching how the red wine seeped through the pristine white fabric.
"My songbird... my favorite lamb..."
He brought his face closer to yours, his lip pressed against yours.
"All good for me, right?"
And that was his warning before he bit on your lower lip, nibbling it as though it was candy. His target shifted into kissing you, his right hand on your waist while his left hand held you still. You thrashed under his hold, legs flailing like a fish.
"Be good."
He bit your tongue, that was his first warning. Unlike his other self, he was not one to have his patience tested. And you loved that. The kiss lasted for as long as you could go on without breathing, tongue exploring each other's. You knew you were growing needy, as much as you enjoyed playing as the target and victim of his adoration, you also fancied him in one of the rooms in your 'heart'.
Growing bored, he pulled off from the kiss and started littering your neck with kisses instead. Your hand went to cover your mouth, your tongue feeling the lip he kissed earlier. You really loved him. So much that you want to cut his tongue and have it as your dinner.
He started to grow greedy, leaving his marks here and there, hickeys and bite marks painted all over your neck and shoulders for people to see. It served as a warning for people who dared to approach after all.
For you were the God's most beloved companion and lover.
Not wanting to lose, you nibbled his ears while your hands clawed his back as though treating him as a scratchbox.
"You must have really wanted to paint my back red again huh?"
He let you do so as he took off his whole attire, only leaving him with his pants, his toned chest bare open for you to feel.
"Go on, I ought to spoil my lover every now and then no?"
You didn't waste your time, digging your nails into his flesh as deep as you could to draw even more blood. You loved seeing him bleeding, you had always enjoyed making people you fancy bleed in one way or another, feeling their blood tinged your arousal.
He did not hiss even for the slightest, used to any kind of pain. His hand traveled down to cup your clothed sex before tearing the fabric that clothed it apart, teasing it with his fingers before he worked his way into it. His other hand stimulated you, both working to make you dig your nails even deeper, it made his back painted in bloody trails.
Gods had no worry with earthly wounds and scars but you two enjoyed keeping each other's marks, relishing in the pain as it was created, unwilling to erase it from your own skin as the two of you let time heal themselves.
As though he wanted more, he brought his mouth to work as well, making your hands move to tug his hair instead. You did not even bother to minimize your moans and whines, thighs squeezing him, not allowing him to pull away even if he was suffocating in a sense.
You knew he would never suffocate after all. No matter how hard and long you choked him, he would never pass out and his erection would only grow larger as he waited for his turn to do so. You two were sick.
It didn't take long for you to reach your high, yet just before you could come, he pulled away from your grasp forcefully, a smirk plastered on his face as he wiped his mouth. A bastard at heart.
"Why don't you return the favor?" He brought your face to his clothed cock by your hair. Used to this, you pulled down his pants and started kissing his cock before pulling down his underwear as well.
Well, it was safe to say his cock bounced out and accidentally hit your face. He only chuckled at the sight of you groaning before pinching your cheek, "How adorable." No matter how sick the two of you were, you two were also souls with a bond. A bond where the two of you would never hesitate to slaughter anyone that got in the way. It was no secret that you had always been brimming with envy seeing him fooling around with his followers.
He didn't mind seeing you going on a rampage with his little followers, in fact, he enjoyed watching it from the sideline. Watching how much they had to suffer as it depended on how much they had spent their time with him. The worst was yet the best for him. You would then sing like a songbird as you clean your mess up, praising yourself for serving another meal for Leviathan to feast. (an: Leviathan - the demon of Envy) In fact, he found you playing around adorable despite the mess he had to clean up as well.
You wrapped his length with your mouth, drooling at the thought of it entering and ramming you in and out. It would feel so good that you were already excited, your excitement leaking out as proof of it.
"So good for me, no?"
You nodded as you shut your eyelids, head bobbing in and out as your hand worked its way as well. You knew the parts he was sensitive to and you wanted to feel him tugging your hair even harder. Your tongue licked one of his cock's veins, urging him to twitch inside you excitedly.
"You really... are, khk-!"
You smiled to yourself mentally, adoring the subtle groans he made and dying to listen to more of it. You really loved seeing his flustered face, and you'd die to see it again, his face red until it reached his shoulder, moans slipping out of his lip and his erratic pace to chase his high, You loved it all. Although you could actually feel your jaw growing sore from his size, you did not pull away. Well, it's not like you could pull away.
The only warning he gave you before he shot his load into your mouth was a little statement of him saying he was cumming. And he came a lot.
Do Gods from his world just have this monstrous size of strength, size, and loads? No wonder they all just have these unlimited amounts of offspring and children.
He pulled out once he finished inside your mouth, his sperm trickled out from the corner of your mouth and hit the floor. His fingers squeezed your round chick, prompting you to open your mouth. You opened it and showed him just how your inside was painted in white with his semen.
He bit his lip, his face and shoulder red from his previous makeout with you. You could just really cum just by looking at his worn-out face, clenching your thighs while thinking about what you should do to make him redder.
"Swallow."
And you did so. His order rang inside your head while you swallowed all the probabilities and chances of a miracle to happen inside your body, for you to conceive. But you threw it all away and drank it down like your favorite drink, wiping the corner of your lip with your thumb before pressing the thumb onto your tongue.
You pointed down to your sex again, the grin on your face gave him all the ideas you wanted.
To fuck himself into you as deep as possible and paint your insides white with the idea of a sweet 'miracle' despite the two of you knowing such a thing would never happen. Such a miracle never existed. But what were you two but indulging in each other's wish and lust?
"I truly love you the most, Caelus!" You kissed him with your arms wrapped around his neck. Caelus reciprocated your gestures, his lip nibbling your earlobe as he positioned his cock into your entrance.
"Beats me, I love you too, my love."
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒚.
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