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anantaru · 2 years

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𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 + 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐒

୨୧ genshin favorite sex troupes feat. cyno : zhongli : childe : kazuha : al-haitham : tighnari : diluc : scaramouche x fem! reader

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw : 'teacher student' troupe : sex pollen

𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎 + 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐒

you loathed cyno, more than anything, despised his being and how he held himself, truly despicable. He didn‘t just think he was better than you, he was full on convinced it‘s the truth and nothing but the truth. It was always him against you, there wasn‘t a way for the both of you to suddenly get along, the differences were outweighing the positive aspects greatly. The only time he‘d actually manage to make you feel good instead of giving you a headache, was when he had you splayed out on the bed, the look on his face almost belittling when he gasped out upon pushing himself in.

the burning and throbbing sensation in between your thighs had you feeling dizzy, slightly disgusted that you were actually getting fucked by the guy you considered your rival, the only person you made it your duty to beat, more so show them that you were clearly better. In a vague, or slight, attempt to control your erratic uneven breathing, you decided to dig your head into his neck, closing your eyes as he continued to work his hips on you. "already tired, are we?" your heart dropped at his words, rolling your eyes when you bit down on his soft flesh, hearing a clear yelp escaping cyno‘s throat. "how rude you are."

you‘re not sorry, you don‘t need to be nor do you have to be sorry, general mahamatra cyno was an asshole, your rival and the person you will triumph over in the future. It didn‘t matter that he was currently fucking you and admittedly, he did a disgustingly great job at it, working wonders on you and punctuating all the sweet spots you had. How was it possible for him to have you figured out this soon? it wasn‘t fair, truly.

you glanced at the male hovering over you, his hips circling and grinding themselves on you whenever he‘d be completely sheathed in your glistering cunt, carelessly snapping himself into your warmth without giving a damn about your pleasure, just to piss you off even more. Cyno enjoyed it, that was clear, maybe a little bit too much, he thinks to himself, if he ever beats you again as your self proclaimed rival, he‘ll make sure to demand the same treatment as today.

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 + 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

zhongli, who you considered your lovely teacher, so patient and soft with you, helping you learn all kinds of new things regarding history or various stories around teyvat, anything he put his mind to focus on would ultimately fall to your ears, taking everything he explained to you in great detail. Naturally, those aspects would apply to the certain predicament you were currently in as well, with your body in between his thighs, stroking his erected cock in your hand and licking your lips in anticipation, practically tasting him on your tongue already. "you gotta show me how, zhongli." your lips were curved up into a tiny pout, eyes glazed with lust while seductively fluttering your lashes at him, holding his filthy gaze.

"i have to show you how to pleasure me? very well then." his reply was warming up your heart and cheeks, it felt firm, as he took his stiff cock in his hand to line himself up with your mouth, giving it a few lazy strokes right in front of you, "push your tongue out, i‘ll go easy first." he showed you his signature smile, his hardness was heavy on your wet muscle yet you took him in completely, inch by inch, easy, so eager as you were breathing through your nose with his tip prodding against your throat.

your lips were in pain from the stretch, straining from being split open like that, the unfamiliar feeling making your head feel heavy and dizzy. "you're a natural at this." he cooed at you, helping you bob yourself up and down his impressive length while drawing soft circles on your head, "watch out for your teeth." he was patient with you, as always, zhongli took control of the situation with you having nothing to worry about.

you dragged your tongue around his shaft, without knowing nor having a clue on what to do with it in the first place. Zhongli threw his head back at your sloppy unexperienced sucking, the grip on your head was tightening as he began to apply pressure to it, gradually increasing the speed you were going for. Your nails dug into his thighs, disheveling his dress pants and slightly scratching him through the garment as he hissed out, the pain going straight to his aching groin.

you let out a dirty choke, gurgling while being stuffed full every time zhongli would thrust his hips up roughly, your throat involuntarily flexing around his tip. Your expression was lewd, dirty, with your face being an utter mess, spit was trailing down the corners of your lips and hanging around your chin, pooling down the floor as you hollowed your cheeks to slurp and gather it in your mouth again.

zhongli's thrusts stuttered, becoming uneven and needier, his climax was breaking free from its tight grip as he finally spilled himself in your throat, white ribbons of cum warming your insides up as you moaned around him. The vibrations you gave made it hard for him to control his body any longer, pushing your head down until he completely released his salty and slightly bitter seed in you.

you coughed out at the fullness, dragging your tongue on the white liquid, "keep it in." he watched you, demanded it from you, placing his thumb on your messy swollen lips with you simply obliging to his every command, never going behind his words, "swallow." soft and slow, his words were like fine honeydew as he rubbed his thumb over your mouth before you do as he said, thickly swallowing down all his load, your brows scrunching together from the new taste as you blinked away the warm tears that welled up in your eyes, "good."

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 + 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒

childe and you understood each other, greatly, he knew he could count on you whenever he was hard, needy and not to mention, aware of the fact that his hand wouldn‘t satisfy him tonight. He didn't expect nor needed anything different, like emotional feelings from you. In his opinion, letting you take part in his life with his emotions on full display for you would be far more difficult, not needed, leaning towards your current relationship which was rather just continuing to stay intimate with each other, nothing more nothing less. You‘d always be well reserved, being strict about it, setting the boundries that were necessary to be set in order for the both of you to keep on doing what you were doing.

ajax closed his eyes to enjoy the moment as much as possible, your face was buried in his neck as you bounced your hips into him, sighing as you felt his arms tightly close shut around your waist, keeping you there with his cock roughly dragging against your puffy walls. He groaned heavily in his chest, refraining himself from moaning out once more. His eyes were half lidded when he watched you put on a pretty show for him with your hips that were desperately circling and prancing on his erected cock, milking him for all he‘s worth. You continued to trail wet kisses on his skin, first featherlight, barely there, before applying more pressure and your tongue, licking all the way down to his collarbone before teasingly biting down to get a reaction out of him.

"i could fuck you all day." he admitted to you, bluntly, his hips bucking up roughly to meet yours and taste his climax as the sounds of skin sensually slapping against skin became louder, clearer, with the room turning hotter than before, sweat developing on your skin that was inbedded on you. Childe adored how your breasts were bouncing up to the rhythm of his thrusts, your nipples erected and sensitive, more so how desperately you tried to ride him with your legs beginning to strain and hurt, watching him with your eyes half open, his musky scent that was mixed together with the feeling of sex setting your blood on fire. He truly loved this, treasured it, how your friendship had nothing more than simplicity and intimacy.

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 + 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

kazuha was your best friend, your platonic soulmate, that’s what you always kept telling yourself. He knew you better than anyone else, sometimes it even surprised you on how good he just so happened to know you, always having something up his sleeve to make you laugh or cheer up if you were having a bad day. Most importantly though, he was there for you, during good and bad times, never leaving your side and so were you, never leaving him whenever he needed you the most.

you understood, friendships like yours were one of a kind, cursing yourself whenever you’d get unwelcomed thoughts that were going beyond that, more so were clearly crossing the line, concluding that you indeed had fallen for your best friend. But there he was now, on top of you, holding your gaze with each arm resting next to your head, his body was slightly cold in comparison to the growing heat in between your legs. Unbeknownst to you, kazuha shared your idea, with your relationship developing into something deeper, more meaningful, him handling you like the most fragile being in existence. "i can't believe we're doing this." he's smiling, admitting that fact to you embarrassingly, his eyes half open as the passion greatly welled up in him.

kazuha traced his tongue over your neck before hitting your collarbone, flattening his wet muscle on you and licking all the way down you belly, the feeling left you slightly ticklish. "i want to make you feel good, forever." he repeated himself, more times, lust had taken over him by storm as you rested your hands on his head, awkwardly digging your fingers into his scalp for support.

"it was always you." kazuha brushed his thumb across your cunt, mumbling his words, feeling the moisture pool out from your hole as he spread your lips, flicking his tongue in between your puffy folds. He adjusted himself in a more comfortable angle now, sucking on your glistering skin with his chin beginning to get coated in your slick. Kazuha had to show you that he truly meant it, that this wasn‘t a reaction of being frustrated, needy, but the outcome of a friendship that developed into something more.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 + 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

you always wondered if kaveh‘s roommate was on the market, still without a partner and interested in pursuing something in that direction. Al-haitham was someone you put your eyes on for various reasons, the first one being his undeniable handsome demeanor, you couldn‘t resist it. Second, but not too far off the first place, would be his attitude he somehow reinforced harder when he talked to kaveh, the slight glimpse of his arrogance had you interested, intrigued.

if only your best friend knew about what would happen if he kept inviting you to their home, with him suddenly falling asleep and you still very much being wide awake, next to his room with al-haitham on top of you. Your body was shaking in uncontrollable sobs and shudders, he was big and heavy in you and you barely had time to adjust yourself to his girth. Al-haitham was ruthless, starving, your cries muffling tiny hiccups whenever he‘d snap himself into you, hard. "you think you can take it a bit longer?" the question was granted, you were definitely struggling right now but the sweet mix of pain and pleasure was more than enough to keep going in your eyes.

you nodded frantically, arching your spine off the mattress before getting fucked back into it, the soft pillows were engulfing your burning body as you cried out with al-haitham being quick to shut you up. "be quiet, you don‘t want him to hear us, do you?" you found the strength to pull his hand off your lips, a tiny 'sorry' leaving you as you chew down on the softness of your cheeks to prevent yourself to become noisier than you already were.

your body trembled in his arms, it felt sore, your eyes gushed up with tears from being fucked so good, so hard, not to mention from the tiny amount of uncomfortable pain you felt from biting down on your cheeks so viciously. In the end, you wouldn‘t tell your best friend you fucked his roommate, it would only make kaveh never invite you to his home again and that would be one hell of a big problem on its own.

𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 + 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍

there were plenty of pros and cons about being tighnari's assistant, most of the times he was pretty cautious with what he’d bring home to further investigate on. However, when he‘d find something interesting, something he never saw before and intrigued him, he couldn‘t help himself but take it with him, without actually making sure if it was save or not. In this scenario, it wasn‘t, the plant that he found sprouting on a tiny hill was letting go of soft, barely visible pollen that tickled your nose, eyes and made your mind hazy, afterwards even going so far as to turn your body hot, so hot you could feel yourself become aroused, the warm sensation building up in between your legs with tighnari feeling the same way.

you both couldn‘t particularly stop fondling with each other, it was as if someone got a hold of your body and decided to manually control your every move. Yet it also felt incredible, the feeling unrecognizable, you couldn‘t remember the last time you felt so free and fulfilled, aside from needy with tighnari's face buried in between your legs. You were leaking, it was almost embarrassing, the inside of your thighs stained with perspiration and your filthy essence, his tongue lapping it all up with his cock in full view, angry and red, swollen and wanting to be sheathed in you so badly.

he‘s rutting his cock into his fist while the other one held you down upon pulling away. Tighnari first, brushed your slick off his chin with the back of his hand before looping his arms around your knees, drawing you towards him. His eyes were drownsy with his pupils widened as he disposed of his pants— that were previously hanging around his knees, completely.

tighnari tapped his swollen cock on your glistering folds but wasn‘t in for the teasing tonight, his erection was beginning to seriously pain him, as if he had to fuck you right now or he‘d literally get dizzy from the ache in between his legs. He‘s pushing himself past the tight hole with your arms encircling him almost immediately, dragging his stiff member into you with his eyes rolling back as the tension in his lower region didn’t necessarily fade away but it made it a lot more bearable now.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 + 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃

it was late at night with the room becoming eerie, the air in it thick, your bodies were barely able to be spotted in the darkened room, your hands fondling with each other as diluc nibbled on your warm neck with his hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass. You barely knew him, at all, you of course, had heard of him but you have never gotten the chance to actually meet diluc in person. It wasn‘t when you finally saw him at a late hour in the little bar you so happened to be with your friends that night.

what started as harmless talking and a few beverages, soon developed into a making out session that ended in his room, on top of his bed with him fisting his cock in front of your messy hole— about to fuck you into the mattress. You didn‘t deem it necessary to know much about him, diluc had this charm in his voice whenever he talked, it somehow soothed your brain when you listened to him. You admitted to yourself that you felt anxiety and something else which was flooding though your veins, was it maybe impatience or the longing for his touch?

in concentration, diluc pulled his lower lip in between his white teeth, hissing through his clenched jaw as he pushed himself past the tightness of your cunt, cramming himself to the hilt. He elicitied multiple whimpers from your throat as he pressed himself forward, his body flushed on top of yours with his lips searching your own.

your tongue was prodding against his mouth, asking for entrance, then circling it around his own when you began to taste the residue of sweet drinks you both had consumed earlier. For some reason, the intimacy you experienced right now— with a complete stranger, was much more intense than any other times with partners you knew and actually talked to frequently. The thought about never seeing diluc again and then maybe meeting him one day, acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn‘t fuck you silly in his bed, late at night, with nothing but sheer lust in his eyes.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 + 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

"i'll fucking kill you after this, you know that, right?" scaramouche spat out with his teeth pushed together, the feeling of your hand wrapped around his stiff cock was filling his mind with a complete haze of feelings and thoughts he couldn't process, nor was he particularly interested in figuring them out right now, "doesn't look like it." your response was cold, fierce, the wry smirk on your lips more than evident as you leaned closer to him, your mouth hovering over his swollen tip. "shut up and get to it already." he clearly wasn‘t having it, roughly placing his hand on the back of your hand before applying pressure, your plump lips hitting his cock right away. His rosy tip was coated with a generous amount of pre cum, a faint line connecting you to his member upon pulling away.

you prodded your tongue out, teasingly circling your wet muscle over his slit to gather the oozed out seed on your taste buds, the salty substance melting with your spit when you finally took his tip in your mouth, nibbling on it. You hollowed your cheeks, swallowing his essence as you felt it coat your throat before continuing to take him inch by inch— easy and taking your time, until having him buried and twitching in your warm mouth.

"fuck, faster." his words emanated as a shaky whisper, a soft plea, but as always, scaramouche made it sound like a direct command, arrogantly disgusting. You closed your eyes, breathing through your nose as you bobbed your head up and down his length, flattening your tongue on him so his cock would always be fully coated in your spit, taking a precaution that you wouldn‘t end up hurting him. The hardness of him was exhilarating, heavy, not to mention how he'd twitch in your mouth after a particularly rough suck from you.

scaramouche rested his hand on the back of your neck while the other one was right above his mouth, shivering and gasping with his head tilted to the left, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him— with him never actually admitting that he found you beautiful, or was fond of you. "who knew you could actually be something else other than annoying and a pain in the ass." he threw those words at you with a wide sadistic smirk, rolling his hips forward to meet your mouth. His muscles were tense and feeling as if someone lit them on fire, the burning sensation in between his legs was gradually building up further.

your lips trembled around his shaft, his bossy behavior was certainly turning you on— pressing your thighs together as you picked up on your rhythm, the squelching noises becoming louder and clearer to be heard as he tossed his head back, arching his spine into you. Scaramouche suppressed a whimper as he abruptly climaxed in your mouth, without a warning, pulling you against his cock and releasing his thick seed in you with letting it run down your throat— much to his enjoyment once seeing you struggle to take his load. You pulled away after he emptied himself in you. While full of him, the warmness made you shiver and got your head feeling heavy when you decided to swallow it all with his gaze still on you, his eyes growing wider when he witnessed it, involuntarily forgetting the threats he threw at you earlier.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

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writersblockedx · 7 months

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If it was a Preference

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary - You had your own history with the Winchester brothers, in particular, Dean. So when the two bumped into you, accompanied by a new hunter partner, jealousy can't help but grow. Warnings - Alcohol use, mentions of violence. Words - 2K

Masterlist

Dean didn't just like you because you were a hunter. Rather, he was much intrigued by your blunt, frankly reckless approach to hunting. You weren't afraid of the monsters you faced - or at least you certainly didn't show it. He had heard of your name before. He knew that not only his dad, but fellow hunters spoke highly of you. While he was doubtful at first, he came to realise that your approach was one he was envious of. And from the few times Dean had the privilege of working a job alongside you, he came to the conclusion that you were one of the few people he actually respected.

And so bumping into you while on a hunt was a pleasure rather than a burden. He and Sam and just rolled into town, following the trail of bodies across the state to a small town. It was that night as he wandered to the bar, his eyes caught sight of someone familiar. "I'd say it's funny seeing you here, but I think we must be chasing the same thing."

Dean was surprised to see two heads turn to him: you and one of whom he didn't recognise. A man, rough around the edges and drinking a beer. He was a hunter, Dean could guess that within a second. Your lips lifted into a smile, "Dean," You were already leaning over to give the man a welcoming hug. Yet he didn't ease into it, instead, his gaze was caught onto the hunter behind you. "It's good to see you."

You pulled from the boy, "Yeah, you too." His eyes had barely noticed you.

You followed his gaze and found the source, "Sorry, this is Jamie."

The fellow hunter held out his hand and Dean shook it cautiously, "Y/n has mentioned you before, Winchester, right?"

Dean nodded, "That would be the one." He settled by leaning onto the bar, a nagging feeling clawing at his which he could quite rationalise. "So erm, how do you two know each other?" He questioned.

"We've been working together," Jamie answered, glancing to you with a smile Dean wished he could slap off him; suddenly that nagging feeling was consuming him.

"Like a month now" You added so casually as if it were normal. "Just been helpful, fiances haven't been so easy this year so we've been travelling together."

Dean attempted to keep up his chill facade but it was breaking and you could start to see through the cracks. "Together?" He laughed at the word. "That's funny cause I thought you only ever worked alone." He was making a dig and you couldn't quite understand why.

You glanced to Jamie who was just as confused, "Like I said, money's been more difficult. Fuel and food costs less when you're splitting it."

"Well, when I last saw you, you swore you would neve-"

"Y/n?" The taller Winchester brother busted in, cutting Dean's snarky comment short. "What are you doing here?"

The two old friends embraced, smiles licking their lips as they retracted, "On the same job as you two it seems." She answered.

Sam shrugged and unlike Dean, when his eyes met Jamie, they didn't scowl, "And who's this?"

You never got the chance to answer Sam; "This is Jamie." Dean interjected, "These two-" His index finger wiggled between yourself and your partner. "-are working together. Because Y/n apparently doesn't just work alone anymore."

Dean's brother could tell something was itching him. As if it wasn't already written on his face, his tone had voiced his irritation. Rather let such continue, Sam sort to deescalate the situation. "Maybe it's best we head back to the motel?" His hands grasped his brother's shoulders. "Get an early night and regroup on Monday." He flashed a forgiving smile your way before pulling Dean away from the bar.

"Sounds like a plan." You nodded your head to Sam and he continued to drag his brother out of the bar.

Your eyes followed the siblings that you had grown ever so close to. Never had something like this occurred. Of course, Dean would flirt - sometimes recklessly - but you had gotten used to it. You had started to see every word that came from his lips as just his personality. He treated any woman (or sometimes man) with the very same cheeky smirk and quick pick-up lines. But this reaction, dare you admit it, but it was almost protective. Something Dean only showed when someone's life was on the line; not when bumping into an old friend at a bar.

Nothing changed the next day. In fact, things seemed to have heightened for Dean. His brain had latched onto his envy; to have someone stand where he had always wanted to be. To have you at his side, Sam at the other, partners. It begged the question; why did you pick someone random over him?

"There's been another one." You chucked the newspaper onto the booth the four of you had been seated in.

The morning had been spent in a rustic diner, comparing theories over coffee. When the daily newspaper came out, you made sure to be the first to purchase. And as to be expected, another dead body was printed across the pages. "They're not slowing down." Said Jamie as he observed the paper.

"We don't know if it's vampires yet." Dean warned with a stern tone littered over his tongue.

Sam shrugged, "It's our best bet." He took the newspaper, reading further into the local news. "We are, however, on the right track. Says here this happened to the town just over."

The paper dropped back to the table where you could all see it. The blood, the lifeless body, the monster that was calling out to you. "So what now?" Jamie asked, his eyes flickering between the other three.

"Get our fake IDs, get into this crime scene." You decided.

There followed nods of agreement before Sam added, "I'll stay here, do some research, see if I can find where they're heading next."

"I'll stick with you." Jamie offered. "I'm sure Y/n can tell you, I'm not the best at the lying and acting, especially not to authority." Such was true and had almost landed you in some bad, illegal places; and people wonder why you did all this alone.

"Well then," Your eyes caught Dean's like you were in a crossfire. "Looks like it's just us two, agent."

You crawled from the booth where you gathered the fake FBI badge from your coat pocket. "Agent Johnson, really? How imaginative." Dean read the name as he stood in front of you, ever so close your chests could have brushed against one another.

"Better than some random guitarist's second name." You grew a smirk which Dean didn't dare break.

Instead, he smirked back, "They are not just random." With that, the two of you started walking towards Baby, digging deep into Dean's facades on all his IDs.

The crime scene was as to be expected. Suburban house; police tape; nosy neighbours. You and Dean were used to wriggling your way into the scene. Pushing through with ease, dressed in the smartest clothes which couldn't say any lounder that you were someone of importance. And when you finally reached the front of the crowd, the officer noticed it too.

"Excuse me," You called to the cop who was already on her way over. "We're with the state, if you don't mind we'd like to take a look around, following up on some other leads." You explained as you had done numerous times before.

With a flash of your badges, the tape was moved for your entrance, "Thank you." Dean muttered to the cop before the two of you made a B-line for the porch. "So, you're certain this is vampires?"

He opened the door and you followed him, "I never said certain." With a scan of the hallway, you deemed it safe from any wondering eyes and grabbed the EMF reader. "We've still got some things to cross off the list."

A static noise was sounded from the small machine, but no beeping; you were safe for now. "Well I just thought that because Jamie said-"

"Jesus, Dean!" You weren't even halfway down the hallway before he was bringing up the subject. "Would you just drop it? I can form my own opinion and usually, my opinion is right about a hunt."

"I'm just checking miss 'I only ever work alone'." He made quotation marks as his feet stood firmly in the midst of the hallway. He did so on purpose, blocking your way further into the house. "Who knows, maybe having a partner will change how you work." He suggested.

Your expression moulded into one of offence, "You doubt me?"

Dean could have shivered, "No." He seemed sure of that. "I doubt him. I don't know who he is and I certainly doubt he's good enough for you...to be your partner I mean." The boy added in case there was room for misunderstanding.

A sigh fell from your lips and suddenly, in the face of Dean, you couldn't keep it in anymore. "Look, I'd be lying if I said Jamie was a good hunter. He isn't. He almost got us arrested because he forgot the name on his FBI badge. He can't aim for shit, he doesn't know lore about basic monsters. I was explaining vampires to him last night right until you bumped into us." The words started pouring and you weren't stopping them.

"So why work with him?"

"He's not just anyone Dean. He comes from a rich, very loaded, family. The only reason he knows anything supernatural is because one of their houses had a vengeful spirit which I got rid of for them." You explained. "Like I said, it's practical, not preference."

You watched in a passing moment as Dean's gaze faltered and the cogs in his brain started to turn. When he looked back at you, something seemed to be flickering within his pupils - you just couldn't work out what. "And if it was up to preference?" His voice was low as if whispering a secret.

You shrugged, suddenly unsure of where Dean was headed. "Alone, you know that."

"But if you had to?" He jumped in before you could take another breath.

Uncertain, you chuckled, "Dean, if you're wanting for me to say-"

He took a step closer, trapping you between himself and the wall. It was a small hallway, even smaller with Dean pressing your back against the wall. And it was safe to say your breaths were uneven, your heart was struggling to keep up with your thoughts and you couldn't break your stare with Dean. "I want you to mean it."

You attempted to take an easy breath in a way that didn't show Dean how obviously crumbled you were by his words. "Dean, if I had to pick anyone to work with, of course, it would be you." Never did you blink. "And I mean that so much so that I can't believe you have to question it."

Suddenly your eyes broke from one another. Only to flicker to the lips. You took a breath and before you realised, there was no more space in between you. Caught up against the wall, breathless, you were moulding your lips against Dean's; the only hunter you could ever see yourself working with.

"I thought you guys were checking the place out?"

You jumped and then froze. In the door way stood the policewoman; one way to ruin the moment.

Of course, Dean slurted out his usual, "Yeah, just checking out these walls here." His knuckles knocked against the wall by your head before the two of you sheepishly continued into the house.

Maybe the job wasn't over and maybe you had just come close to breaking your FBI facade, but you would never regret the words you spoke or the actions you made in that very moment.

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ooshu · 1 year

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bus stop

summary: haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.

genre: fluff ! | word count: 1.1k

- haechan loves old stories. hell, he’s the king of hearsay and gossip. but his favorite genre? love stories--nostalgic and the most unusual ones.

he loves how his grandmother met his grandfather at a local bakery shop almost every single day. the two would often bump with each other every seven in the morning, en route to their school in the late seventies, then the rest was history.

he loves how his mother missed the train and his dad suddenly gave him a handkerchief when she cried for missing a job interview. desperate times, they said. it was the nineties. things were escalating quickly, and they had to chase the developments, even if they had to sacrifice some bits of their dreams.

but out of all the stories he heard, his favorite story is when his friend mark recalls how the two of you met.

haechan was sitting on the bus, two more stations until his next stop. then you hopped on the ride, and swear to god, you were the most beautiful person his eyes ever laid onto. you sat near him, and if haechan could actually burn holes behind your head, he thinks it probably would have happened.

then you suddenly gasped.

haechan, all alarmed, was waiting for your next move. he saw a man walking forward, looking for an occupied seat. he can see you were slightly panicking. you looked at every possible vacant seats, most of them were occupied. until you saw haechan’s, the other one being available.

you got up from your sit, backward facing the man whom haechan is most curious about is still looking for a vacant. then haechan starts to realize that you are coming in his direction.

you hurriedly sat down next to him, and haechan swears his heartbeat doubled and his heartbeats were beating so loudly, a person could hear if the air conditioner was not turned on.

haechan saw you desperately keeping your head down. your eyes closed, almost so forcefully. you let your hair do all the hiding, too.

then all of the sudden, “are you okay?” he said.

you jolted at the sound of his voice. haechan starts to panic as well.

“sorry, sorry!” haechan shook both of his hands open. i didn’t mean to—”

“could you pretend we’re together for a bit?”

haechan, who was confused, asked. “like boyfriend?”

“yes!” you whispered loudly. haechan saw the man looking at where you are seated. he starts coming on both of your direction, your eyes were still closed and your head still facing down, haechan figured it was time to do it.

so haechan extended his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. you leaned toward him. it felt warm, just right, haechan thought. but he could still feel you were tensed.

he asked, “is this… tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

“okay.” a faint voice he heard. haechan couldn’t help but to smile. on the other hand, the man is already set on his seat, a bit farther from where you are both.

haechan did not tell you that the man is not looking anymore, he does not know why, but he felt like you needed this the most right now. so he just let you be. hell, he did not even ask you why. he just straight-up trusted you. being such a simp gets him into deep shit sometimes, he realized.

haechan looked at the window and figured this was his stop. you, who is still bit shuddering, noticed he is reaching his bag while his arm is still wrapped around your frame. you looked at him and said, “can i… can i go with you?”

he no longer asked why. fuck it, haechan thought.

he removed his arm around you and he let you stand up while the bus is still moving, almost near the next station. haechan put his backpack on his shoulder and followed your gestures. and when the bus stopped, you slowly headed toward the exit while your head is still facing down. when haechan noticed you were near where the man was seated, he hurriedly followed you and walked clumsily. he did it to get the man’s attention to focus only on him, and not yours.

once you exited the bus, the wind slightly danced and grazed its touch on your face. the sun hit your pretty features, and haechan was again, starstrucked.

“thank you, oh gosh.” you said with a relief. “thank you, thank you!”

“it’s okay…” haechan chuckled. “can i ask why, if it’s… okay?”

“he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“oh?”

“oh.” you copied him. he thought it was silly—a cute silly.

“yeah, he cheated on me and i kind of slapped him in the face, so…”

“oh.”

“yeah…”

you noticed his features. to you--this unnamed cute boy--had tanned skin. his body frame looks huggable, which was proven earlier, by the way. he is a bit taller than you but you would not mind looking up just to see him laughing while his head falls down because of embarrassment.

but shit. you have to go back to reality now.

“ah, shit!” you looked at your wristwatch. “i have to get to class. i’m sorry i—”

“it’s good! it’s fine.” haechan said. “happy to help.”

you moved a bit forward from the waiting bus shed and called for a cab. when the car stopped and your things were placed inside, you spared one last glance at haechan and said, “thanks, boyfriend. you look… good, by the way. hope you know that.”

haechan blushed. he reached for the cab’s door and closed it. and when the cab started hitting the road, haechan was left on the sidewalk, muttering shit!

he forgot to ask your name.

“and that’s why haechan’s the stupidest person to ever!” mark raised his voice, almost singing it in a happy tune. “exist!”

jaehyun and johnny laughed along. haechan looked defeated. even though he never got your name, it was still his favorite story in the world. it could have been his “and kids, that’s how i met your mother!” story, almost qualifying to how endearing his grandparents' and parents’ love stories were like, a one-of-a-kind—but the universe had other plans for the resident simp.

and so it did.

haechan, who came from the subway and headed toward the bus waiting shed, stood and listened to his morning playlist. he opened his can of orange juice to start his day. he did kind of struggle, though. the juice started flowing on the floor, making his black shirt a bit damp. he looked around to only see a garbage bin and an empty vending machine that could have had a pack of tissue.

then his eyes landed across the bus waiting shed.

there was you, eyebrows scrunched as if you were also trying to see who was on the other side.

and when you realized it was him, haechan started waving his free hand like a little kid. like, who the fuck cares if his clothes and other hand were now sticky, right?

you smiled, almost so beamingly, so lovingly.

and haechan never thought he would believe in fate until he finally and officially met you.

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tofu83 · 23 days

Text

The Followers:

The mysterious nightclub

"Who are you!?" Adam exclaimed and subconsciously took a few steps back. "How do you get in?"

The man’s every muscle was delineated beneath the skintight rubbersuits, his eyes were concealed behind black visor, his face was expressionless.

He answered in a masculine, emotionless but somehow familiar voice to Adam. "I am Mike."

Adam was shocked. He and Mike were good friends from high school. Now they were roommates and both juniors in same college. Adam’s major was in Information Engineering but Mike’s was History. Adam was introverted but Mike was extroverted. They were so different but that’s couldn’t influence their friendship.

This guy was obliviously older and muscular than his friend. Yet there were some features similar to Mike. Adam would guess this is Mike’s elder brother if in other situations.

"Mike" kept going toward the kitchen and face the refrigerator.

"Need food." He took out a fish and started to bite it.

"That’s not sashimi!" Adam grab the fish from Mike and throw it to the sink.

"You can’t stop me." Mike said and moved robotically to the sink.

"Buddy, you are freaking me out!" Adam tried to pull him back but Mike turned to face him.

At this moment, Adam saw there were tears from Mike’s eyes.

"You're crying?"

"Hel…"Mike stopped answering and started turning around to the sink.

"Fine!" Adam pulled Mike’s visor down from his eyes.

Mike screamed then hold his own head and yelled, "it’s…it’s….ahhh! Tied me up! Hurry! Away from water! Quick!"

Moments later, Mike’s hands and legs were tied up with towels to a corner of his bed.

"Now you tell me what’s going on! You told me you were out to a nightclub but you come back like this? Wait, are you really Mike?"

"It’s me! I am…errr" Mike was sweating and shaking his head, "damn! That’s not just a nightclub, there are some ancient relics in the basement. And the relics…ah" Mike kept moaning, he seemed to trying to continue the sentence but failed.

"Ok, you relaxed and I call the police or ambulance."

"Nooooo! You can’t do that or there will be more victims!"

"Alright, you relax and calm down. I'll do some quick research to figure out what you experienced."

"Useless."

"Huh?"

Adam suspected Mike smirked evilly for a second, but that might be an illusion.

"Useless, I did research before I went there. Nothing! Just some rumors sounded like jokes."

"You suddenly become normal and calm?"

"'It’s is relaxing! I am still fighting its influence!"

"What is IT?"

"I…I can’t say its name or…" Mike stopped, and face became painfully.

"You will bear pain or panic or something bad, right?"

Mike nodded.

"The only way I can figure out what happened is to go there by myself, right?"

Mike nodded again but tried to force out the voice to say, "don’t…"

"I will do anything to help you. You can’t stop me."

"No, not that." Mike paused and said, "don’t go now, it’s already morning." And he collapsed to sleep.

Adam smiled, he knew Mike would never stop making jokes even he looked like a shit.

———————————————————

Mike slept all day till next midnight. Adam waked him up.

"Good night! How do you feel now?"

"Good enough!"

"May I untie you now? Aren’t you hungry or thirsty?"

"No! It's night again and I’m afraid it will be back to my mind again! I’m not hungry but a bit thirsty."

"Okay."Adam put a kettle with straw of water by Mike. "Well, I am going."

"Good luck!"

"You don’t stop me?"

"We always can’t stop each other, right?"

Adam gave back a smile and went out.

After Adam closed the front door, Mike smirked and effortlessly tore the towels bound him. He picked up the kettle, stood up, drank all water and threw the kettle away. His expression was blissful, his eyes were soon covered by black visor emerged from nowhere.

"You did a good job." A voice whispered in his mind.

"It’s my honor."

"Receive your reward."

"Thank you, Master." Mike felt the pleasure spreading through all his body and concentrating on his groin. He cum with silent moaning because "Master" didn’t allow him to make noise now.

He felt hungry after his reward was finished. The body was not strong enough. He took the fish from refrigerator and ate it all. The body became even bulkier and was filled with energy.

He needed to be stronger. He was Master’s loyal follower and a guard of the cult. He was proud to trick his friend to go to the club. His master needed more followers.

————————————————————

Adam felt nervous when walking in the alley. Although he would do anything to help his friend, he was still the guy afraid of social interactions. The feeling of being watched was so strong that he kept looking around to make sure there was no one stalking him. The only thing let him feel not so bad was the neon lights. That made this place a bit like the futuristic city in cyberpunk themed video game.

As being closer to the targeted nightclub, he found the surrounding area becoming even stranger: there were only men in this area and most of them were in good shape, wearing black rubber suits and black visors.

Just like Mike.

"We are same…" a voice whispered and Adam suddenly found that all men in black rubber stared at him. He was almost frightened to fell.

"Don’t be afraid, come…" the voice whispered and Adam was calm down and saw all men were doing their own thing or just walking past. Was it an illusion? He turned around and faced a hunk, who also wear black rubber skintight suits and visor.

The bouncer looked at Adam without saying a word, his blank expression, crewcut hair and stubble face made him seem hard to get close to. Adam was too scared to move but could only look into the mirrored black visor and saw himself looking back. His mirror image was distorted by the ripples created in the center of the glasses. It made him feel strange and dizzy.

"You, pass."the bouncer suddenly said and made Adam a little bit shocked.

"Welcome, brother." the bouncer opened the door and let him in.

He didn’t know why the bouncer called him "brother" but he felt comfortable when he heard that.

"New brother arrives" the bouncer talked to his wrist, looked like talking to somebody through a beeper, and then stood up straight, smiled in bliss. Obviously, he was enjoying his reward.

"Holy shit! What’s that!" Adam was scared by what he saw inside and intended to get out but the front door was locked.

No, he could not run away. He came to find out what happened to Mike and to figure out how to help his buddy. So he turned back to face that "thing".

It was a huge black "egg"hanging on the ceiling and was wrapped in plenty of big black octopus tentacles, all smooth, shining and reflecting neon lights from the environment.

The luster of the egg attracted him to move closer without realizing it. His mirrored image on the egg was clear and thin but it became vaguer and thicker when he moving. The surface of the egg seemed to be made of rubber, and was pulsating rhythmically. Adam also heard a humming noise coming from the egg, he couldn't stop himself from putting his ear to the big egg and listening. The egg was as warm as Adam’s body, and the nerd could swear there was a male moaning inside. Before he reacted, the moaning became speaking…

"Join…"

Adam tried focus on the words disturbed by the white noise, which was also in the egg.

"…you…master…help…"

When Adam heard the keyword, he suddenly realized that he was in a trance, as if he was hypnotized. He was sweating profusely.

He came here to find a way to help his brother, he could not let himself also…Wait! Why did he call Mike brother? He was shocked but even stunned by the mirror image on the egg.

It was Mike smiling back at him!

"We are same…" the voice whispered again.

Adam now found that there are not only one egg but many ones in the night club. Each had a mirrored image of man on surface. He seemed to saw these man before. They probably were those men in the alley because he was sure one of them was the bouncer at the front door.

Then the images of men all morphed into same guy: Adam. But these Adams’ body were sculpted and cladded in black rubber, their hairs were trimmed short, their eyes were blank and they smirked at him.

"Join us, we are brothers, we are same, we are one…."

"No!" Adam screamed in horror and run throughout the club to search the stairs led to the basement. Mike had told him there was something in the basement and that could be the key to the mystery.

Suddenly, a part of wall morphed into a hole and he fell into it, slid down a slide and fell into a puddle of water.

"Fuck!" He struggled to stand up and saw a giant cephalopod creature floating in the midair. This time he was too scared to move or scream.

"Come to me," the creature whispered in the air but it’s loud in Adam’s mind. "My child…."

"No…" Adam turned back subconsciously but found he was no longer in the club!

He was in the street he came through to the club. There was no body, no life, no sound, only himself. He felt panic, lone and cold. He wanted to run but didn’t know where to go.

The giant octopus-like creature was still floating on the air and even larger than before. Its whispering became very loud and striking Adam’s mind strongly.

"Come to me, in the water…"

Water came from all directions and flooded the entire street. Just when he thought he was drowning, the scene changed again.

He was standing on the rocky shore of the sea, and the sea that should have been rough was calm. The setting sun was warm and seemed to guide him in the direction: "Sinking into the water. Just like the sun."

"Into the water…" he spoke to himself in unison with the whispers of the creature, and and leapt from the shore.Again he felt like he was drowning but this time he actually lost consciousness.

When he woke up, he found himself in a dark space and felt something sliding back and forth on him.

He looked down and found that he was naked and there were many octopus tentacles "stroking" his well-defined body. He was not a sports person, not fat, but his body type was definitely not so good. Admiring his new body and being caressed by the tentacles, he became erect.

"You like it…"the creature whispered.

Yes. Adam thought but he forgot something. What’s that?

"It’s greeting gift for you to fallow my voice."

Adam tried to remember what he forgot but a tentacle grabbed his erected member and started stroking. It felt too good to think.

"Submit to me and you will get more…"

Submit? How…No! What am I thinking? Why I come here?

"You are my child. That’s why you come to me….Just like your brothers…."

Suddenly a tentacle inserted into his virgin back hole, it was so smooth that let him feel no pain but pure pleasure. The tentacle massaged his prostate and made him in the euphoria he never experienced in life. His vision became blur.

Gradually there were well built males appearing one by one, standing in water in front of him.

"Brothers…" he was surprised that he addressed these guys "brothers" and didn’t felt wrong.

They all had well-defined bodies with tentacles massaging their muscles. But the difference between them and Adam is they were all in black rubber suits.

"Join us, submit to master…"

Adam unconsciously walked closer to the group of men and suddenly recognized one of them, remembered something.

"Mike!" He hold Mike’s strong shoulders and shake. "I came to help you!"

But Mike remained blank face, didn’t respond to him.

"You looked younger here! If I took you back, you would be normal again…"

"If you wanted to go back, I can’t stop you" Mike suddenly said, "but I can help you stay."

"What?"

"Don’t you feel so good now?"

Adam felt the tentacle inserted his anus further and those stroking his body and genital became faster. He did actually not move his body yet, he was stilled trapped in the same place by tentacles.

"You will be strong, fearless and positive, all you need is submission"

The tentacles guided Adam’s hand to touch Mike’s body, it’s so hard so manly.

"Join us, be brothers, we share our mind, we improve our physique, we obey master, master help us become better, master is the truth."

Mike’s lips suddenly came close to Adam’s and gave him a deep kiss.

Adam resisted at first because he and Mike were best friends but not gay. However, he gave in very quickly. Good friends hug, good brothers share, they share everything including saliva, so it’s normal to kiss your buddy.

Mike put his tongue into Adam's mouth, and it gradually became longer and thicker, and finally turned into an tentacle.

Adam felt the tentacle from his front and back extended to each other and connected. It’s the moment that every men disappeared, vanished like smoke, including Mike.

His vision became completely dark, could not see any thing but feel tentacles massaging his digestive tract, caressing his muscles, rubbing his face and something sucking his nipples and phallus hungrily.

And the smell. Smell salty, masculinity, freshly. The smell of the ocean and men. He started to imagine a muscular himself surrounded and squeezed by other muscular men. They were brothers, they loved each others, they were each others, they were all embraced by Master’s arms. The tentacles made him very close to climax and the voice of master whispered.

"Submit. My child. Accept your true form. Follow my lead forever."

Adam felt so good, and he finally understood. He came to find a way to help Mike. But in the end, he was the one need help. Thanks, Mike. Thanks for tricking him to grab the black visor. The visor was absorbed in his hand and the journey to the truth began.

Master is the truth. All men are Master’s children. All men should submit. Master will make each man perfect. Each man is equal. They are brothers, follow Master’s lead.

He submitted. Not only body and thought but also spirit and soul.

"Good child. You have your reward."

Adam reached the most fierce but also most pleasurable climax in his life. He roared like a beast, he knew Master would be pleased if he proved his loyalty out loud.

For a second, he saw himself standing among other muscular males, all in skintight rubber suits. They lowered their head to show submission to the Master.

—————————————————————

On the ceiling of the basement under the nightclub, hang several giant rubber eggs. Tentacles massaged and stroked each eggs, slimy and slippery. Moaning sounds could be heard occasionally from the eggs.

One of them was shaking violently. A small vertical crack appeared and plenty of black goo flew out. The crack became bigger and bigger until the egg shell cracked in half. All remained black goo fell on the ground and there was a naked man kneeling on one knee.

The man’s body was muscular and sculpted, his face was with square chin and five o’clock shadow, his hair short and eyes blank. He slowly stood up. The black goo spread from his toes up and formed rubber boots and pants. Some goo shot to his arms and rubber gloves were created.

The man’s head kept down until the goo covered all from his neck down. The skintight rubber bodysuit outlined his perfect body, glimmering under the led neon lights on the walls.

He walked upstairs to the ground floor. There were also giant black rubber eggs, some merely pulsating, some were cracking, and some already broken, but there was only him alone in the room.

The man’s finger touched a cellphone left on the bar table, the cellphone wrapped in black goo immediately.

"911, what’s your emergency?"

"I am kidnapped! Help!" The macular man used a faked young man voice answered.

"Do you know where you are? Are you safe?"

"I’m safe, for now. It’s a nightclub…" he gave them the address.

"May I have your name please?"

"I am Adam."

"Okay, sir. Our men will be there in 10 minutes, please be calm."

"Hurry!" And he hang on the phone, or more accurately, disconnected the phone.

Adam stood up straight, smiled. He knew he did well as Master ordered him to do so he could enjoy the pleasure throughout his body. When the police arrived, Master might give him the main reward, the first climax after his rebirth.

The visor form on his blank eyes. He walked out and gave a nod to the bouncer. Mike and the bouncer were assigned as guards of the cult and should be more muscular than other followers. But follower like Adam who could arrive to the front of Master, would be assigned as missionaries. They would be given nice looking face and their body would morphed to the most attractive type according to the objects.

Adam walked through the alley, searched target. He had never been so eager to take the initiative to contact strangers. Thanks to Mike for helping him get to know his master. Now with the support of his new brother and the leadership of his master, he had a clear and new goal in life.

"Thank you, master!" He yelled in mind but made no noise in public when enjoying his first main reward at the entrance of alley in the street.

#rubber #mystery fiction #cosmic horror #hp lovecraft inspired #horror story #muscular male #ai image #18+ content #mind control #tofu83 #rubber men

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ponderingmoonlight · 28 days

Text

Chapter 2: Negotiating Fate - Reluctant Alliance in a New Realm

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

“Tell me about the part where she left you standing in the rain again.”

„Are you out of your mind? Get back into the salon right now, (y/n)!”

“My decision stands. I won’t marry a man like Gojo Satoru.”

Your brother spun you around with ease, his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that your bones cracked underneath his rough touch while Gojo stayed back inside the salon, visibly surprised by your rejection.

“He is the prince. Don’t you know how lucky you are that he even considers taking you as his wife?”, your brother hissed through gritted teeth, venom spitting from his threatening orbs.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want him, doesn’t it?”

“She looked at me with a determination in her eyes I never saw in a woman before, told me she won’t marry me and stormed away without another word”, Satoru repeats while his finger glides up and down his chin thoughtfully.

What an unusual experience. Not only for his status as prince, but the given fact that he has a gorgeous face and a well-toned body, all women were head over heels for him since he was young. But you…you looked at him with such disinterest that he can’t stop thinking about you. You, a member of the Zenin family. Even though you already live a carefree life in one of the wealthiest and most influential families of this country, a marriage with a prince would have been your coup, the greatest honor you could bring to your family.

He chuckles.

And you rejected him.

He can’t be mad at his best friend for laughing out loud while shaking his head.

“I never thought I would witness a woman rejecting you. And that as a daughter of the Zenin family, a truly brave Lady”, Suguru finally comments in sheer amusement.

“I wonder why she left so suddenly. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself, let alone introduce me properly. You know what she called me?”

“You are nothing but a philanderer, a pompous prince who thinks he rules the world just by the power of his bright blue eyes. Excuse my harsh words, but I am not the one for you, prince.”

“A pompous?”, Satoru repeated, a smile creeping up his face.

“Yes, a pompous. Now excuse me, I was actually busy when you arrived. Have a pleasant travel back home, Prince Satoru.”

“Your reputation seems to precede you, my friend”, Suguru replies before breaking out in laughter again.

Satoru slides forward in his chair, eyes narrowed in a desperate attempt to hold onto the memories of your flawless face. What a remarkable woman you are, truly outstanding in contrast to the usual monotone Ladies he has to endure. It’s not a secret to anyone that he enjoys female company, always surrounded by multiple women at once. But a pompous? It was never more than a friendly talk or two, he never invited one of those boring girls into his sheets.

“We’ll see how this goes, Suguru. Maybe she will come back to her senses, after all.”

“Are you out of your mind, (y/n)?”, none other than your father shouts at you.

You can’t help but swallow hard. His sheer presence alone sends shivers down your spine, well-aware of the fact how threatening the man standing only inches away from you can be.

“Just what I expected. I always knew you are useless, sister. Your only job is to marry the prince and you are even unable to do that”, your brother spits at you.

“Are you even aware of how much time it cost me to arrange the prince of this country visiting you? Are you even aware how much money I spent on your education, your clothes, your maids? Listen to my words: You will marry the prince, (y/n). Or else I will show the world who you really are. Out of all people, you should know best what this world does with people who inherit special powers. You will burn at the stake like your mother.”

You swallow hard, all air drained from your lungs. The way his eyes gleam at you tell you all too urgently that he is serious about his words. Your mother…She was never mentioned in the manga or anime. Is Naobito Zenin cruel enough to kill the mother of his own children? And most importantly, what are those special powers he was talking about? Is this…jujutsu? Are you…a jujutsu sorcerer in this world?

“I am your daughter”, you press out, the hurts almost not leaving your tongue.

“Would you really kill me over a broken engagement?”

“Dear (y/n). I don’t care about who you are. The only reason you are alive until this day is my plan to marry you into royalty. Apart from that, I have no use for you.”

He grabs your arm so roughly that you can’t escape, the stinging smell of alcohol coming from his hot breath almost causing you to choke. In this situation with no way out, the painful truth draws to you.

It doesn’t matter if you really hold special powers you are unaware of in this world or that you are his daughter. If you don’t play along, you will die all over again. Just like you did in your first life…

The glowing headlights of the car crash into you over and over in your mind. The feeling of your bones cracking, your blood discolouring the street crimson, how your heart stopped beating, the violent screams of your friends.

You shake your head vehemently, glossy eyes widen in sheer horror. You don’t want to die all over again, not when you were given this unique second chance. There has to be a way out of this misery. Maybe…Maybe…

“Then allow me to visit the prince myself and fix this situation.”

You still refuse to live a life on Gojo Satoru’s side when there are men like Geto or Nanami. But you will find a solution. After all, this is still somehow the Jujutsu Kaisen universe you know so well, right? You just have to. You won’t throw away your newfound life so easily.

“Now look at that”, he purrs to himself while holding up the piece of paper than informs him about your visit.

You didn’t even wait for his reply. As his valet said, your carriage is already on its way. What made you change your mind?

How ridiculous to even ask this question. Your family is known for being strict, especially when it comes to their female members. Your brother and father probably forced you to rethink your situation and showed you your place. As a woman, you have no worth apart from marrying into a wealthy family. Since the day you were born, your father always tried to find a way for you and therefore himself into royalty. Your whole education was built around the thought that you might become queen someday.

And you rejected his wish by rejecting Gojo Satoru himself.

“Let’s see what you have to tell me, (y/n)”, he mutters to himself.

“Your Majesty, Lady-“

“Good day, Your Majesty. I am deeply grateful for this renewed meeting”, you speak out while you bow politely in the door.

Your heart almost beats out of your chest. It takes all your strength to stop your palms from getting sweaty, to not ruin your makeup out of excitement. Oh, you truly don’t want to be here right now. It is all too clear that you are capable of living a happy life without a man by your side. You’ve been alone your entire life, didn’t care about a male ever before.

And Gojo Satoru is no exception, even in the form of an influential prince.

You bite your lip, fingernails digging into your gloved hands. But still, you depend on his help and understanding at this very moment. If he doesn’t agree on helping you on his own…

You will have to find a way to force him into it.

“I am delighted to see you again, Lady (y/n). Even though this is the only option after you gave me no choice”, he replies with a slight grin.

That bastard. The gleam in his eyes makes it all too clear that he is very aware of why you decided to pay him a visit. With the movement of his hand, he orders you to sit down on an expensive-looking…what is this called? A canapé? He sits down opposite of you, eyes fixated on yours.

“It was truly surprising hearing from you after you rejected me so boldly earlier this morning.”

His words sting like knives, force your eyes to narrow. Well, maybe because you were literally forced here to fix the engagement you don’t want.

You take a deep breath. Catch yourself. If you want someone like Gojo Satoru to give you another chance, you have to stay strong.

“I rethought my decision the second you left. I would love to accept your engagement, Prince Satoru. But only under one condition.”

He tilts his head to the side in surprise. You, having conditions for an engagement with the Prince? How unusual. But the gleam in your lavender eyes tell him that you mean what you say.

“Please enlighten me, Lady (y/n).”

All of the sudden, your fingertips start shaking. You dig your nails into your thighs, take a few deep breaths in and out. Please, just say yes. Please don’t ask any further questions.

“As we will be considered engaged on the outside for the sake of both of our peace, I will follow the duties as the Prince’s fiancé at any official occasion. But I will never have any romantical interest in you, I do not wish to share more time than needed with you by my side. I still don’t want to marry you as well as you aren’t interested in being tied to a single woman. This agreement would benefit both of us and will be dissolved as soon as it no longer has any use.”

Thick silence hangs in the room, tension within reach. He slides forwards, amusement glimmering in his bright blue orbs.

“I respectfully decline your offer, Lady (y/n). Have a pleasant travel back home”, he replies before getting up and making his way out of the room.

For a moment, the world stops spinning, you are too stunned to speak. Did he just…refuse your offer? But why? You always thought he would be the last person who wants to marry a single woman. And if your father pressures you into a marriage, a prince like him is definitely forced to marry soon as well. It is clear that this benefits both of you…So why? Out of instinct, you jump up, hands clenched into fists.

“If you don’t accept…”

Gojo Satoru stops right in his tracks, head moving to the side ever so slightly.

“I will uncover that you are in possession of special powers. I will destroy your reputation and therefore your chances for the throne. So, do we have a deal? ”

Do they have a deal? Find out in next chapter! Let me thank y'all for your amazing support for chapter 1 and this whole idea. I'm beyond excited to share this fic with you and let me tell you the plot will go INSANE with this one - stay tuned! Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren @sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823 @livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom

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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

Text

Red Card

MASTERLIST

Roy Kent x F!Reader

It's the first time in 135 years that the Premier League has allowed a female referee to official a match... Remaining neutral is absolutely key. Plenty of fluff and smut and flirting 😏

The anticipation was at a whole different level. For the first time in history, a woman would referee a Premier League football game. The FA had played a blinder from a marketing perspective - a local girl from Richmond itself - refereeing a Richmond vs. Man City match - the top two finishing teams of the previous season. Sky Sports, BT Sport, Match of the Day, ESPN… every single football broadcaster or news outlet was on site. It couldn’t get any more high profile. It had been all anyone had talked about for weeks on end. Roy was sick of hearing about it, talking about it, and reading about it.

“New Trent?”

“What do you think about a woma-”

“Reffing the next match? It’s about fucking time. Should have been done years ago. The league might be saying all the right things and making a big deal out of it, but it’s only disguising the fact that they haven’t bothered utilising female referees until now.”

“And what do you think of the referee chosen for the match?”

“Did I offer you a fucking follow up, New Trent? She’s a fantastic ref, and has a great eye. I’ve seen her run some lower league matches and it’s high time she had a role in the Prem.” He looked around for his next victim, “You with the… bald spot?”

“And will you be saying the same thing if she books one of the lads next week or a decision doesn’t go your way?”

“Course I fucking will. I don’t suddenly change my opinion of any of the other refs? We’ve all got jobs to do and roles to play. I don’t think we can ask for anything more than for any of the referees to be fair and equal. I don’t give a shit who we’re on about, that applies to all of them.” He looks around for any other burning questions, “Right, fuck off then you lot. I’m done for the day.” He rose from the desk and left the bustle of the press conference. In the office, Beard and Nate were looking over plans for the next week while the team milled around the gym and treatment rooms.

“Tough presser?” Beard asked.

“No more than fucking usual. All anyone is talking about is the new-”

“Female ref? The news is everywhere. As if the match wasn’t high profile enough as it is.” Nate filled in, a bundle of nervous energy.

“Yeah, well we’ll be fine. Just gotta make sure the boys keep their heads down. The new ref isn’t their problem, they don’t need to even be thinking about that.”

“But they will, because that’s all they’re hearing about. We haven’t had this much press coverage for ages, the match sold out months ago. They may not have to think about her, but the whole situation does impact their whole build up to the game.” Beard declared.

“Right, get ‘em in here.” Roy grimaced. Nate dashed off to assemble the team. “Alright lads?” There were a few murmurs and replies. “I know there’s a lot of noise around this one - some of it is to do with us and the City game, some of it is none of our business. I suggest you steer clear of the news for a few fucking days. There’s no need to watch it at all. No Twatter or whatever you fucking use. Just stay off that shit for the rest of the week, yeah? Any news you need, you hear from us. I want to keep the positivity we’ve got for the new ref, so if you’re asked about it by the paps on the car park, be fucking nice. Otherwise, you don’t watch or listen to all of the fucking fuss about the weekend, alright?”

“Coach.” Isaac nodded in agreement, the other players followed his lead.

~~~~~~~

The noise was deafening, the stadium packed to the rafters. You hovered at the side of the pitch with the other officials, warming up until it was time for the meet and greet of the team managers. The two managers were like fucking titans of football royalty. You were about to meet Pep Guardiola for god sake. And if you even think for one second about meeting Roy Kent, you might just pee your pants. Pep is great, wonderful - the boss! But you grew up not twenty minutes down the road, so Roy is firstly, the literal definition of local hero, and secondly, the big crush of your early 20s. You spent many Euro Championships and World Cups in the pub singing his chant and ogling his legs. Fortunately when the Premier League and media ask about your neutrality, they don’t ask whether you’ve experienced sexual fantasies about any of the players or managers. At least you’d only be admitting that about one person and not, like, a whole team. And you would never admit it publicly. The home crowd roars as the Richmond team is announced, you make your way to the space between the two dugouts ready to greet the players. They all shake your hand as they pass you, with a few nods of encouragement and words of support. The same applies to the Man City team, you’re determined not to be starstruck in front of Pep Guardiola so you shake his hand with a big smile and wish his team luck. You turn to Roy Kent and his large hang engulfs yours. You whack on your big smile and offer the same affirmation as you did to Pep. On the pitch, you speak momentarily with the two captains and blow your whistle for go time.

The trouble with Premier League football is just that, it's Premier League. Top flight. The best of the best. Keeping pace with these players was a job in itself, being in the action without impacting it or getting in the way was another, and being the all seeing, all knowing one was… yet another. Your mind (and body) are pulled from goalpost to goalpost, and it's really no surprise that the referee is often blamed for poor decisions. It's impossible to see every single thing that happens on the pitch. You're making good decisions so far, nothing out of the ordinary. Shortly before halftime, one of the Richmond defenders nearly dislocates his shoulder, going in hard on Haaland. It feels cruel to punish him, but it's part of the job, so you have to award Man City the free kick. From the other side of the pitch, you can hear Roy Kent over the sound of 60,000 people screaming the same thing. Haaland scores, of course. You hang back while the teams leave the pitch at halftime, but he's waiting for you in the tunnel.

"The fuck did you give a free kick for?!"

"You shouldn't be collaring me out here, but to answer your question, the tackle was too much."

"Bullshit, it was a fair tackle and McAdoo would have hurt himself more than Haaland."

"Bullshit. Haaland has got about 5 inches and half a stone on McAdoo."

"5 inches is fucking nothing." He smirks.

"Really?” You arch an eyebrow at him, “did you seriously choose today to make a dick joke?" Utter disbelief is written all over your face, you shake your head and leave him cursing himself in the tunnel. Halftime was supposed to be a moment to catch your breath, not waste it on fighting with Roy Kent. You knew better than to get into it with managers. They saw the action from the sidelines and only had so much impact and influence. They took their lack of control out on officials all the time, it was supposed to be your job to stay calm and walk away, not engage. You ignore him on your way back to the pitch, he's just inside the exit of the tunnel and he could be there to apologise but he could very much be there to shout at you some more. The second half is just as eventful, Richmond are pushing hard for at least an equaliser, and Man City are loath to let them get it. When Obisanya has a shot on goal, which goes wide, City are pleading for a goal kick, but it's not. You award the corner, and Rojas sweeps a beautiful pass into Tartt, who sends the ball straight into the corner of the net. City scores again shortly afterwards, and you have to keep your head to make sure no one is deliberately trying to cause injury to anyone else. When Tartt goes down just outside the area, you request VAR footage to aid your decision before calling for a free kick. He scores, but it's an immediate offside and Roy Kent looks like he might explode. When play resumes, Colin Hughes gets a goal straight away. The game ends in a 2-2 draw, but the fans and teams both seem appeased.

~~~~~

By the time the press conferences are over, Roy's had more than enough. He (respectfully) disagreed with your first free kick decision, but praised your other choices and overall declared you "No better or worse than the other pricks." The stadium is starting to clear, and the Man City bus has just left. Richmond players make plans to get food at Ola’s. When Roy sees two of the officials only just leaving, he sends the others ahead and makes his way down to the away team and visitors facilities.

“I hope you’re here to apologise.” She states dryly as he approaches.

“Yeah,” he looks bashful, “the dick joke was a dick move. Sorry.” She looks so serious, he’s not sure the apology is accepted until he spies a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Was pretty funny. In alternative circumstances.”

“Noted. Congratulations anyway, noise from the press has all been good so far.”

“Nice to know my performance will be scrutinised forever while every mediocre male referee gets a pass for another week.”

“I’m sure your performance will only improve.” He inwardly groaned. She was going to laugh in his face. A dick joke and then godawful flirting? It was only what he deserved.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll pass that direct quote on to The Sun.”

“They’ll have a fucking field day. Richmond manager does shit job at flirting with the only female ref in the league? They’ll probably go and interview the poor woman I called my girlfriend when we were in year 6.”

“Flirting?”

“No,” he scoffed, “no, course not. I didn’t mean that. Just a joke.” You cocked your head at him,

“Should we start again? Hi, you must be Roy Kent, I’m the first female referee in a Premier League game in 31 years. Well, actually it’s more like 135 years but the FA are trying to make themselves look marginally better.”

“Nice to meet you. Great job on the match, I respectfully, completely, disagree with that fucking free kick in the first half but other than that… no complaints.” He steps closer, you’re showered and changed but he can still smell the fresh grass mingling with the citrus and spice of the products you use. The combination is incredible - like summer and sunshine.

“I wouldn’t give a shit if you did have any complaints. Looking after your feelings isn’t in my job description.” You take in his height, broad shoulders and dark eyes and the long dormant crush rises to the surface immediately. You hadn’t taken much notice since you stopped having posters on your walls all those years ago, you’d only caught a few of his appearances as a pundit. He’s gorgeous, despite his surly appearance there’s an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Like he’s having fun with whatever this tension is that bubbles between you. And when he does smile at your commitment to fairness, it takes your breath away.

“Good to know the FA can rely on you staying neutral then.” He says quietly. Anticipation crackles in the air and fizzes in your stomach. You match his playfulness in your response, and step into his personal space,

“I don’t think there’s anything here that could sway me to any team in particular.” You smile, “not yet, anyway.” He waits until you’ve definitely left the room before he lets go of the breath he’s been holding.

~~~~~

You’re dragged out by your friends to celebrate that night, even though your legs ache like you’ve done a 10km run. It wasn’t so much the running, you specifically trained for that, it’s the constant change in direction and the intensity of having your attention focused on so many things at once. If the FA thought they could throw you under a bus by giving you such a high profile game, you’re pleased you proved them wrong. The bar is crowded and noisy and you’ve already spotted a couple of the Richmond players - it was bound to happen in a relatively small town if they couldn’t be bothered to go right into the city. You’re at the bar ordering when you feel a hand on your hip and someone standing very closely behind you, a hand raises above you holding a credit card, and gestures to the barman. You’re about to lose your shit when you hear his voice rumble behind you,

“I’ve got these, mate.” He steps to your side when the person next to you moves, but his hand lingers, “I hope buying you a drink doesn’t make you question your bias?”

“Not at all, I’m afraid you’d have to work much harder than that.” He looks even better than he did a few hours ago, desire coils inside you and you instinctively draw your thighs together. It doesn’t help when he noticeably looks at your mouth, red lipstick is your ‘go to’ for a night out.

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Your drink is put on the bar next to you and you lick your lips before taking a sip. Neither of you has broken eye contact. You hear your name from a few feet away at the edge of the dance floor.

“Excuse me,” you raise your glass to him, “thank you for the drink.”

“Bruv, is that the ref from today?” Isaac steps up beside him.

“Yeah, yeah that’s her.”

“She’s fit. You gonna ask her out?”

“Dunno Isaac, bit fucking old for that shit now.”

“Nah man, I just seen the way she looked at you-” he shakes Roy’s shoulder, “ooooh! Get it boy!” Roy rolls his eyes and smirks, watching you get dragged to the dance floor. He knows he must be old because he’s only been standing pitchside for the match and wouldn’t be caught dancing. You’ve run your legs off and then still managed to get them into that sequined mini skirt and up dancing. You can feel his eyes on you but you’d rather keep your back to him and try and carry on as casually as you can, if you turn around you know you won’t be able to stop staring. At least with your back to him, you can ignore him. Plus you know your arse looks great in this skirt, it was literally the sole reason for buying it in the first place. With all the running and training you do, you’re conscious of your strong thighs and hips but sometimes, just sometimes, they make you feel powerful. Eventually, you have to duck out of the dancing - mimicking a timeout to your friends. Roy is exactly where you left him at the bar and the alcohol makes you bold. You squeeze back in next to him and take a sip of his drink, yours is long finished.

“Help yourself.” He smirks, his hand moving to your hip again, hidden by the darkness of the bar. You put a hand on his thigh and lean in slightly, taking some of the pressure off your feet. You’re close enough that he can see your breath hitch as his thumb finds a patch of exposed skin at the waistband of your skirt.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask quickly, pushing your nerves down. He nods and finishes most of his drink, offering the last of it to you. Outside, word has gotten out that half a football team is at the bar and everyone is out for a glimpse of Jamie Tartt. You push past the photographers with Roy’s hand at the small of your back and into a nearby taxi.

~~~~~

“Please tell me there aren’t any fucking rules about this,” Roy mumbles somewhere in the valley between your breasts.

“I have no fucking clue, and I don’t really care right now.” You gasp, breathless as he leaves a mark on your soft skin.

“No? No danger of a red card?” You laugh and it’s musical and magical and neither of you have had this much fun in ages.

“No red cards for Roy Kent. Probably makes a fucking change.”

“Oi, cheeky. I never got that many.” He’s moved down again, unzipped your skirt and thrown it behind him somewhere.

“Fucking liar. They literally use you as an example of trouble players. Oh, fuck-” he bites your thigh.

“A good example or bad example?” His tongue sweeps over your clit and you nearly rocket off the bed until he hooks his arms over your thighs and pulls you back down to him.

“Oh god, bad example,” You feel him hum against you as he works you to your peak,

“Shame, I’m a changed man.”

“Uhuh, ok,” you whisper, unable to think or speak any more coherently.

“How's your neutrality holding up?” Your hands tangle in his hair,

“Fuckkk, sooo good.”

“I’ll have to fucking try harder then,” he chuckles. You’re about to beg for mercy when he pushes two fingers into you and curls them to just the right angle that has you seeing stars. When he comes back up to kiss you, you rock your hips against his and he helps roll you both over, sitting up so he can still kiss you. His kisses are rough and needy, making you grind down against him. When you nip his neck, he pulls gently at your loose hair, whimpering and god, you’d do anything, anything to have him make that sound again. It only makes you rock harder against him, desperate to feel him inside you. When he finally pushes into you, your body clenches. You rise and fall onto him over and over, grateful for those powerful thighs he can’t keep his hands off. When he brings a hand between you both and circles your clit, you drop your head into the crook of his neck and bite down to stifle your moan. You feel his hips stutter under you as you both come, making you drop your own rhythm. You collapse in a tangle of limbs and sheets against him.

“If you ask me again if you’ve swayed me yet, I’ll bite you.”

“You’ve already fucking done that,” he laughs. “Still need to try harder?”

“Hmm, there’s no harm in trying again. You might win me over.”

“And over and over?” He kisses you again, so slowly it’s intoxicating.

When you wake in the morning, it’s to the sound of his phone ringing. He tears himself away from where he’s curled behind you, the length of his legs against yours, his chest against your back and his arms around you.

“Yeah,” his voice is low and rough with sleep and it’s enough to have you roll over and press your body back into his. You can’t hear the other person, but he hangs up quickly and opens a link they’ve sent. It’s a picture on Twitter of the two of you leaving the bar together with his hand on your lower back with the headline “RED CARD FOR KENT?”

“Told you you were fucking trouble.” You laugh.

FIN

#roy kent #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine

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imagionationstation · 1 year

Text

So here’s what went down…

Ah, yes.

The infamous “Splinter passes on the mantle of Sensei” scene.

Possibly the most misinterpreted scene in the history of 2012turtle scenes. (Perhaps I shall get to the others someday.)

I’ve always assumed that the verdict for this scene was the same for all, and I never knew people hated, or even disliked, Splinter for his choices in this until recently. And it has been eating away at me, because I don’t think ya’ll understand what’s going on here.

Maybe you do, but…

Can I point out exactly what I saw happen here?

Yeah?

Thanks. 🤎

1: Splinter is not sleeping and is ‘distant’, making Leo worried enough to inquire about his health. He’s clearly spending every second agonizing over what’s coming, and meditation is probably his only solace from the burden of his fears. (I do the same thing when I’m anxious. Distract and distance, it helps me feel a sense of- control, I guess.) 2: Splinter does not address Leo’s question. He’s already tried to tell Leo what was going on before this, and now he wants to focus on what he feels is important. His family. He immediately changes the subject (limping in a way that has me suddenly concerned because GUYS HE HURT AND OLD AND GOING TO FIGHT FOR HIS LIFE PLEASE NO-) and asks Leo why he made him leader. 3: Leo awkwardly repeats what he said, “Because I asked to be… You said it wasn’t because of my skills…” (THAT’S ONE INTENSE OF A WEIGHT TO CARRY IF YOU REALLY THINK ABOUT IT, THE HECK-) and Splinter corrects, “I said that only to temper your ego at the time. I knew even when you were a small boy, that you would one day grow up to be the leader of this team.” -Can I just add that he’s not saying this literally. He’s the cryptic, wise, know-it-all sensei. He’s not saying, “I planned to make you soldiers and for you to lead the fight”. He’s saying, “You have always been the one to teach, protect, and lead your brothers, and there was absolutely no one else as perfect for the job.”

Seriously. Lookit baby Leo guarding them while daddy’s away. 💙💙

4: And then he throws everyone watching through a loop: “And when I pass on, to be like a father as well.” And just like us, Leo’s got a whole lot of “EXCUSE ME, WHAT?!” going down.

5: But Splinter’s going stay his cryptic self by clearing no air. (Okay, but let’s think about WHY for a moment. We know our leader in blue by now. If Leo knew exactly what he knew, martyr instincts would kick in hard core, and he would do everything it takes to make sure their father survives. And Master Splinter isn’t going to sit here and let Leo go on a suicide quest. From his POV- He’s old. He’s lived his life. He can try to accept his own death. He will not accept Leo’s.)

6: Splinter imparts this saying that I love with everything in me. “Leonardo. If I can only impart one piece of wisdom that will remain with you forever…” (Ergo, Dude, this is Important. Pay attention to what Imma about to say) “Remember. Giving guidance to your brothers and friends does not come from here…”

“It comes from here…”

THIS IS DEEP, YO. IT SAYS SO MUCH AND IT’S SO SIMPLE-

And people are MAD AT HIM FOR THIS?!

Sorry, sorry- emotions. I’m breathing. I’m breeaaathing… Okay. Yes, I get the gist of the arguments. ‘Splinter made Leo head of the household and that was a terrible thing for him to do. Leo’s too young for that responsibility, he already has the weight of being leader on his shoulders, and that’s a burden his mourning heart can’t carry. It’s cruel for him to do such a thing.’

Or-

And-

@tmntforeverinmyheart and @stardustartist, everyone’s opinion is built off of observations, beliefs, and their own POV on events, and every opinion matters. Thank you for yours. 💚

Now onto mine-

I don’t know what this quote from Splinter means to you guys, but to me, it’s his way of trying to fix things!

I think he finally realized that he done messed up. He knows that he put Leo in a position of ‘I am leader, and mission always comes first’. He’s had plenty of time to see the damage he’s done, and he’s worried of what will come off his family if he doesn’t fix it.

Leo is too far into his head. He isn’t thinking with his heart- “what will happen to my family with me gone?”. He’s thinking with his head, “lives are at stake and I’m the leader- self sacrifice it is.”

Every mission, every step, every choice is a plan, and his life is simply a factor in it. A pawn to be thrown away to complete the important task. It doesn’t hold meaning because of what Splinter told him all the way back in season one, and his father is finally realizing it. (ABOUT FREAKING TIME-)

He’s not telling him “don’t think”.

He’s saying, “Think another way.”

I feel you, @sr200916. A friend of mine said this exact same thing, and I wholeheartedly agree. And here’s some depth into why.

Kids without parents attach themselves to role models. Mother figures, father figures- kids need to be guided, and led, and hugged, and need that one person who can say “it’s okay” and magically the world is a little less dark.

And they’re just. KIDS. They left the sewers three/four years ago! Everything is still so wide and new and confusing and there’s still so much they haven’t learned or experienced- they’re kids.

And yes. Leo is a kid too. But who else are they supposed to turn to?

Karai?

She’s not a parents. She’s gone from enemy, to somewhat friend, to sister-in-college-who-drops-by-sometimes. She’s living her own life. They aren’t going to see her as anything more than their equal. Much less look upon her as a guardian.

April and Casey?

Best friends/honorary siblings. They aren’t going to fit that role.

Mutanimals? Leatherhead? Bishop?

Friends. Equals. People that they trust. But not anyone that they’re immediately going to lean on as a guardian. They need someone who they already look up to and trust to lead and guide them. They need someone who already has their well-being as a number one priority. They need someone who they can feel comfortable going to talk to when he can’t be there to lend advice.

-And I know what some of you are still thinking. But what about Leo?! He’s just a kid too!

And, hey, I’m not arguing. He absolutely is, and in a perfect, fair world, he would continue to have an adult to teach and guide him- but their world is neither perfect nor fair.

All his life, he’s had two solid goals: Make sensei proud. Protect my brothers.

He’s seen as the most mature brother for a reason. He’s had to grow up in a world where finishing school and getting/keeping a job isn’t his main concern. For about three years, he’s spent every night making sure that his brothers stay alive. In fact, he starts doing it almost unconsciously- taking responsibility of his brothers and their missions without filling Splinter in, as shown in Annihilation: Earth! Part 1, when he’s laying out the plans, and Splinter straight up asks, “What is going on?” and Leo brushes him off, essentially just telling him that there’s trouble, but they have it covered.

Splinter is speechless for a moment, but then consents, telling Leo that he’ll be near the cheese phone if they need him.

This is a huge change if you really think about it, and done very subtley. They show us how their relationship has changed- Splinter no longer has the control to give the okay. Leo no longer feels like he needs Splinter guidance or permission. He’s grown up, and he’s leading with a firm hand, just as he was born to do.

And Leo also has experience raising his brothers- who do you think was acting sensei while they were in space?

Fugtoid was Donnie’s mentor, sure, but it was Leo who the brothers turned to when things got out of hand. It was Leo who had to talk sense into them, who always has the last word, who seemed on edge 24/7 as the season progressed, seeing the dangers space held and sending away his team when the evil space station was sent to go boom.

Whether fans like it or not, a leader, a sensei, is simply who Leo is.

There’s a reason he always gets heated and offended when he thinks his place is being challenged-

Leo thrives under that sense of control, and his brother thrive knowing that the control lies in someone else’s hands.

Now, with their father gone, it’ll lie in the hands of the brother that they trust with it most (whether Raph admits it or not) because he’s proven himself time and time again to be able to handle it.

Splinter isn’t stupid. He knows his boys. He knows exactly who Leo’s younger brothers are going to turn to after he’s gone for good this time, and he needs Leo to realize this too. Perhaps he hopes the burden will be easier to bear if it’s given slowly, instead of chucked out of nowhere.

Splinter was not purposefully ‘parentifying’ Leo. There’s a reason he waited so long. Maybe he was never going to say anything at all. Maybe he was struggling with the choice, and when Leo walked in to ask if he was okay, he made a last-minute decision.

Splinter knew it was going to happen. Leo was going to become head of the household, whether or not he said anything about it. It’s how their family dynamic always shapes out- there’s a reason the fans call Leo a mother hen!

It was always going to happen. So instead of standing by and letting fate play out, Splinter decided to interviene.

He wasn’t putting the burden on Leo’s shoulder. He was reassuring his son that he could handle it. He was giving advice on how to take care of his brothers. He was trying to help, not to hurt.

Obviously Leo is going to end up hurting. Obviously, it’s going to be hard. Obviously, it’s going to be a lot to adapt too. For Splinter’s sake- their father is going to die!

But his brothers will be there for him. He may be acting sensei, but we’re shown that they have his back. (Raph’s talk with Mikey on the rooftop is a very prominent piece of proof.)

Splinter knows that no one else can do the job better, and by voicing that he’s sensei, no one else should be able to take Leo’s family away from him. At the end of the day, as the eldest, he will be the one who bears the Hamato legacy (remember, Karai is busy shaping the Foot legacy anew), but unlike Yoshi, Leo will not be alone. He’ll have family and friends to back him up when things get difficult.

It’s a heavy title, but one that Leo is ready to carry.

Except… For one pretty major flaw. A flaw Splinter encouraged, and a flaw that he knows cannot stay.

The martyr complex.

That, is what I believe the “use your heart and not your head” phrase is meant to squash. And I believe with everything in me that it does. Leo’s life is no longer just a chess game. If this pawn doesn’t come home from a mission, his team suffers. His brothers suffer.

He is no pawn, and he can’t afford to see himself as one. He cannot afford to treat his life like it’s expendable. There’s more at stake then just the mission, and deep down in his heart, he knows that. He’s no longer just a leader. He is a father, and he has a family to live for.

And… Can I just add that Splinter’s not just up and abandoning him?

When Leo doesn’t know what to do next after his father is gone- Splinter is there. When it looks like he’s been defeated by the Shredder- Splinter is there. When they face their first real threat since his passing, and Leo is in the dojo struggling with what to do- Splinter is there.

“Leonardo, I know you feel the weight of leading your family, but remember, I am always with you.”

I mean- come on! Even in the afterlife, he’s looking over him!

He knows the burden on his son’s shoulders, and he’s come to help and warn to relieve it, if only a little.

Should he also have appeared to his others sons? ABSOLUTELY!

Could he…?

Well…

Don’t get me wrong- They’d have every right to be upset if they find out that Splinter appeared to Leo and not to them. But I’m sure there was a good reason- Leo mentions “meditating for weeks” after his father’s death at one point, so his spiritual strength, place in front of the altar, and need to speak to his father could have urged down “Mr. Higher Spiritual Plane”.

That’s why Donnie couldn’t see him when he walked in. This wasn’t a ghost doing his own thing, this was a spirit summoned down by Leo. When Donnie startled him, Leo lost concentration, and Splinter disappeared.

But, it’s still going to hurt, knowing he appeared to Leo and not them…

And should he have told his other sons that he was going to die?

….No. Just, no.

For one: He only hinted at the fact with Leo because he felt it was necessary to pass on certain information, to help him prepare for what’s coming. He didn’t give him specifics, no matter how much he begged.

If he told any of the brothers- Donnie would not rest until he pressed him for every ounce of information, Mikey would not have been able to handle the thought of something happening to Splinter, and Raph probably would have died that night on the rooftop trying to stop the prediction from becoming reality.

All of them would have wanted to stay with him after the warehouse fire, and I believe Splinter separated them for a reason.

As the youngest brothers, Donnie and Mikey needed to be shielded from memories that their analytical and photographic minds would not have been able to handle. It would have broken them to see their father die.

Leonardo would spent the rest of his days hating himself for being there and not preventing it. He’d drown in the guilt and fear- because if he couldn’t doing anything, how can he be certain that he’ll be able to keep his brothers safe? How can he be trusted with their lives when he couldn’t even save their father?

This way- Leo knows he’s been sent away, and he knows Splinter’s the reason that he couldn’t protect him. The blame isn’t as strong because he wasn’t there, and that was Splinter’s fault. It’s easier to manage when there’s another to pass on the blame.

Splinter didn’t let him protect him, and by doing so, protected Leo.

Now, Splinter’s sons would have put up a fuss or gotten suspicious if one of them didn’t go with him, so he made an educated choice.

Raphael is the strongest of the brothers. Out of all of them, he’s the most likely to mentally and physically survive the battle. He doesn’t let guilt swallow him like Leo does- he turns it into anger, and uses that anger to defend his family better next time. Out of all of them, Splinter hoped that Raph would be able to handle the memories, and the show basically tells us that he does- his maturity to accepting Leo as sensei was both shocking and relieving.

Now, I’m not saying every choice made here was inherently a good one. There’s a lot of choices made in Splinter’s life that are questionable- but every choice he makes is only in his sons’s best interest. At one point, Splinter was going to run the last of his clan. He was raised to prepare for war. His sensei could have groomed him with a leader mentality, and the notion to never put his life over the sake of his clan’s, since he was supposed to lead them one day.

He’s a single dad living in the sewers who doesn’t understand the internet and fears human contact- the only way he knows to raise his children are based off experiences with his own family, and his culture. Making Leo a martyr was a mistake, and he sees that now.

So to summarize:

No one was being made a parent. Leo is a verified mother hen, and he will lead. Period. It was always going to happen, and Splinter was trying to help lead the way. He probably would have given a lot more advice had his other children not interrupted.

Yes, he made a huge mistake years ago, but now he’s trying to fix that with a simply offering of advice. Follow your heart, not your mind, because at the end of the day, the heart will always lead you and your brothers home.

No, the entire family should not have known. They would have done everything in their power to stop what could not be prevented, and that could have gotten them killed. Splinter would never allow that. Their time was not up. They would not needlessly suffer because of him. Not his boys.

Just a side note: Taking care of his brothers might not be the worst thing for our mourning boy. Not only does it give him something to focus on, but, as an older sibling, I know it sometimes brings me comfort to comfort a young sibling. Maybe it’s some buried instinct in my being to keep them happy and healthy taking over, maybe it’s because I have a tiny bit of control in the moment, or maybe it’s a feeling of accomplishment that helps battle against the aching hurt eating away at me- but it helps. It really does.

It’s not like their infants, or little kids. His brother’s can fend for themselves, and they understand their place in the world much better than they did years ago. They can protect each other.

In reality, the only thing that will change is the hovering knowledge that someone is missing.

Holy chalupa, I just wrote an essay…

Back to the episode!

The rest of this isn’t too deep. So have some reactions:

“I don’t understand… You’re fine, father-”

🎶I can see what’s happenin’ here🎶

HE CALLED HIM DADDY IN A DOJO SETTING AFTER ASSURING HIM THAT HE WAS WELL!

POOR BABY BLUE KNOWS BUT IS STUCK IN DENIAL- 😭❤️‍🩹

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Leo, he is trying to tell you! And he could have! If not for literally MILLISECONDS after he asks, Mikey interrupting. Splinter might have clarified! He might have said more! Hinted how he knows! Said he was so proud! Given advice! Cleared the air! THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS-

Ah, these poor naive boys and their bad timing….

Okay, but like, how am I supposed to be annoyed at these faces. AND WHY IS RAPH OH-SO JOYOUSLY COPYING MIKEY- AND DONNIE WHAT IS THAT DEAD-EYED STARE- 🤣🤣🤣

YA’LL ARE MESSING UP MY EMOTIONS IN THIS FREAKING SCENE, YO

I’M TRYING TO BE SERIOUS IN THE MOMENT

BUT EVERY TIME THEY POP UP- 🤣

Okay, but is Splinter immediately taking the invitation to spend time with his sons because he knows that he doesn’t have much longer not the most wholesome thing ever?

He can’t continue this talk with the brothers present, and they’re clearly excited to go, so why not attend and make a few more bright memories before he’s gone?

Also, I deem it illegal for rock music to be this ominous-

I blame Leo for looking despondently after them and triggering bad things are about to happen emotions. Poor blue boi.

Anyway

Splinter is not a bad father. He is imperfect, but every choice he makes is for his sons’ good. They are his world. Their lives will come before his every time, even if that means giving heartbreaking advice before he has to be taken from them. He only wants what’s best for his family.

They are his sons. He is their papa.

And that’s all there is too it. 💚❤️💜💙🧡💚

I freaking love this show…

Thanks for reading!! I did my best to double-check everything that I wasn’t sure about, so that I could be as accurate as possible! Even if I didn’t change stubborn minds, I hope I gave you guys some things to think about!

Every opinion matters! Thanks for checking out mine!

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bowtiepastabitch · 7 months

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Let's talk costuming: Angelic Robes and The Unreliable Narrator

It's two am, I have to be up at six, but this has been fermenting in the back of my head for the past five hours I've spent doing homework and if I don't get it out I shan't sleep.

The costumes we see representing angelic character in Season Two are VASTLY different from those we see in Season One. (See my post on Aziraphale's Job Robe for an in-depth art history analysis of this individual costume piece.) In season one, the angelic flashback clothing we see is rather humble and uncomplicated. As all things in this show, this serves a very important narrative purpose.

Let's first compare these gorgeous gorgeous girls to their S1 counterparts, shall we?

Just look at the collar on that robe! In S1, we're introduced to Aziraphale in a very plain tunic-style robe with an unfinished neckline. Aside from a slight gold decoration and draping on the shoulders, this could easily be mistaken for rather primitive human garb. S2, by comparison, introduces angelic costume as non-ostentatious but still refined with a gold-trimmed gathered neckline and wide sleeves. The fabric itself, on a textile level, is much finer and softer. Overall, the robes give an air of innocence and angelic purity that is lacking from Aziraphale's S1 'fit. Let's look at another example:

Their Rome costumes are strewn with so many incredible details (check out this incredible post from 2019) but they still retain a bit of that historical ruggedness. Same for these:

The argument could be made for pure historical compliance, sure, but to claim a lack of anachronisms in this show would be a flat-out lie. No, S1 Crowley and Aziraphale are very distinctively human in their dress. The cloth has a wider weave, the ornamentation is minimal, all around it serves to highlight their fitting-in with humans and the humanization of their characters. They're 'going native,' as it were, no doubt about it.

So why, in S2, is Aziraphale suddenly showing up looking like he just popped out of a renaissance painter's wet dream?

Simple. Suddenly, Aziraphale isn't an angel among humans acting human, he's an angel being an angel doing angel things. We get to see the rest of the heaven gang in full angelic decadence as well, a bold departure from the starkness of 'modern' heaven. If this is, as many of you lovely folk have speculated, a series of flashbacks from Aziraphale's memory, the design choices designate very clearly Aziraphale's perception of himself as an angel. A perception which, mind you, would likely be influenced by later human ideas of angelic and heavenly aesthetics. As an unreliable narrator, Aziraphale is showing us not his actual wardrobe as an angelic being but his perception of his past self.

Crowley, too, is affected by this shift in dress. Bildad the Shuhite is everything S1 flashback Crowley is not: fashion-forward, smooth-talking, and impeccably well-dressed. We've got three different fabric textures (that's three times as many as any of his biblical S1 robing) and a definable silhouette. He's practically a fashionista.

If this were all taken as an objective narrative, the shift back to billowing-void peasant Crowley at Golgotha, where we next see her chronologically, would be strange to say the least.

So why is the costuming of the S2 pre-modern flashbacks so much more elaborate? There's three possibilities I can imagine for a change in costume design for any show:

Budget: this is highly unlikely an instant rule-out for me. I've seen what costumers can do on a shoestring budget, and besides the later period costumes make this demonstrably false.

Change in production design team: Technically possible, yes, but if there's one thing Good Omens does well between seasons it's continuity. I mean, they burned the fucking bookshop and then hand-painted tiles to recreate it exactly for the second season. This is not Harry Potter. This isn't it.

An intentional design: Everything, and I mean everything, in this show is intentional. While not everything the wardrobe team does is easily decodable (see Crowley's shapeshifting sunglasses) we've got a pretty comfortable bit of time to figure such things out. This is the only option that makes a lick of sense.

Wonderful, so we've established that this is a narrative choice.

So if it's a narrative choice, and it's distinct from the stylistic choices of Season One, then someone is lying to us. Or rather, we have an unreliable narrator somewhere along the way.

Most of the buzz on ye olde tumblr focuses on the idea of Aziraphale as narrator and memory-holder for S2, and that would certainly make sense from both a story and design. Of course he would see Angel Crowley as adorable and innocent and angelic (the hair is not helping his case either omg I love her), and of course he would see himself as grandly, exaggeratedly, almost dissonantly angelic at the major turning point in his faith.

If Crowley is narrating, then it calls into question why he would choose to remember himself this way. It holds a sort of nostalgic sadness, a memory of a joyful innocence permanently lost to God's cruelty. When we see Aziraphale in angelic splendor later, we're reminded again of what Crowley has lost. It echoes the aesthetic of his former angel self, the gathering and gold trim and bright white fabric, but also introduces a much more elaborate silhouette that reflects the shift toward heaven's new high-and-mighty attitude.

Finally, I'd like to point out that by contrast Season One focuses heavily on themes of humanity rather than ethereality. Narrated by God, no less, who probably has thoughts on their assimilation. While I think we can assume God to be a more reliable narrator than Crowley or Aziraphale, it's not out of the question that She would have her own story to spin about our Ineffable Idiots' shared history.

Ultimately, I think it's safe to say that whatever's going on in costume design is a Clue to the story we're being told in S2 and the one we will be told in S3.

#I would commit unspeakable crimes to work wardrobe for this show #just let me sew on some buttons and I'll be happy as a clam #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens costumes #costume design #ineffable husbands #unreliable narrators #angel crowley #go2 #neil gaiman

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blacknedsoul-blog · 5 months

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Annabel Lee Whitlock: The Hypocrite, the Vampire and the Femme Fatale. A review of archetypes

Good news: I'm on vacation. Bad news: I'm on vacation.

And that means rest. A positive externality. But on the other hand, it also means that my brain, which is constantly thirsting for stimulation, has lost eight hours of activity a day that it has to fill with something. You know what happens to orange tabbies who suddenly become quiet and behave as if possessed by all the demons of Ars Goetia? Well, sort of.

So my brain in need of stimulation decided to dust off my college notes and talk about archetypes, because it's a thorough enough job to keep me away from climbing walls or checking random stuff on the Internet for 10 hours a day.

What is an archetype?

Just to make sure we're all on the same page, an archetype (a "type character") is a writing model that describes a role and has certain characteristics.

The term was coined by Honoré de Balzac, a French writer obsessed with what he called "micro-history. His life's work, "La Comédie humaine", is a massive collection of more than 80 novels, which, when read, will give you more information about that historical period than any theoretical book on the subject.

You may not know this sir or the protagonist of "Illusions perdues", but you do know the archetype that Lucien Rumempré represents: a young from the provinces, full of dreams, who moves to the city only to discover that the lights are there to dazzle and distract from the misery.

But at the same time, the characters that come to mind are likely to be very different from the good Lucien. This is because the archetype is a different construct from the cliché.

If I had to explain the difference, I would say that the cliché is a recipe, while the archetype is a mold.

If you follow a recipe, you will always get results that are very similar, even if you make small variations in the recipe. But if you have a star cookie cutter, the contents of the cookies can be quite different: no one would dare say that a chocolate chip cookie tastes the same as an oatmeal cookie or a gingerbread cookie. Even if all three are cut in the shape of a star.

So I'm going to do a little review of the archetypes that Annabel notices. The differences, the similarities, and let's see what comes out.

The Hypocrite

Not "hypocrite" in the sense of a personality, but in the sense of a way of behaving in the world: The Hypocrite is a character whose way of relating to the world is a pantomime, whose role is to build themselves up to fit into a system (which, by the way, they despise). If they don't have what you want, they will at least pretend enough to make you think they do. Usually for personal gain.

The founder of this archetype is Julien Sorel, the protagonist of "Le Rogue et Le Noir", the most famous work of Stendhal, one of the most prominent writers of the literary realism founded by Balzac.

Julien is this poor boy, but smart enough to memorize the Bible, which makes him seem educated enough to get him a job as a tutor in a rich house, and eventually a priest's cassock.

A more modern example is Nick Wilde from Zootopia. This fox has decided that if he alone can be a con man, he will be one, though he desperately wants someone to see him as an individual beyond that. He hates the system that condemns him, but he wants to be a part of it and will play by the rules he is given in order to profit.

Annabel, like Julien and Nick, has built her entire identity around being what is expected of her, in her case a perfect Victorian high society lady. Something that has given her a tremendous amount of knowledge about how people move in such circles. And from her point of view, people are the same everywhere (Miss Marple would be proud of her).

And in this oppressive context that fosters an environment where people kill each other, she knows what currency to give in return for loyalty: people will look for a leader, someone competent, someone who knows what they're doing.

Annabel has no idea what's going on, what awaits them outside the Nevermore gate, or even if there's a way to escape. But she can pretend to know. The quietest person in the room wins, and she's the one who takes the prizes to achieve her goal. The performance is justified as a means to an end.

Another thing that characterizes stories with a Hypocrite as a relevant character is the exploration of the consequences of this lifestyle: identity is consumed by the role, the line between actor and character is lost, and the Hypocrite is often faced with the reality that they have put so much of themselves into the character they are playing that once it is exposed, there is nothing underneath, or at least nothing worth saving.

In Annabel's case, this is expressed in her utter horror at not being trusted by Lenore. She puts her hypocrisy at the disposal of her lover and comforts herself with the reward of her affection, but Lenore's love for her is the only thread that binds her own identity: that Lenore does not trust her means that the role has completely consumed her, the complete confirmation that she, as an individual, is no longer a disturbed poseur.

Related to this point, we have the final transversal line in the conflicts that Hypocrites tend to have: loneliness. When all their relationships are based on a carefully rehearsed performance, the Hypocrite knows that they are alone in the world, that no one really knows them, and they are usually so deep in the role by this point that they don't want to (or can't) leave it. The longing for honest relationships overlaps with their self-destructive tendencies.

As much as Annabel insists that it's her and Lenore against the world, that her life is meaningless without Lenore, and that she is enough, these phrases indicate that Annabel is painfully aware of how she is perceived by others, and though she tells herself that Lenore's love is all she needs, it seems more like a mantra to keep her sane than a reality.

As you may have noticed, the main difference from the usual Hypocrite is that Annabel has Lenore. A bit like Nick has Judy. But Nevermore is a story that takes the psychology of its characters much more seriously, so while Nick just needs someone to reach out to in order to form honest relationships, Annabel passes because she has no fucking idea how to form an honest, healthy bond.

That Annabel is extraordinarily self-destructive, emotionally dependent, and so afraid to step outside the box she knows so well are, in this light, natural consequences of the Hypocrite lifestyle.

The Vampire

Here we must make a leap to another movement: during the Romantic period, the Gothic novel was at its best, and it was Edgar Allan Poe who squeezed out the last drops of what this genre had to offer.

Now, looking at the bibliography, Annabel does not have much in common with the gothic heroine (that is something Lenore takes care of), neither on an aesthetic level nor on a value level. To find her in the works that inspire her, one must look in a slightly different direction: the female vampires of gothic fiction.

Aurelia ("Vampirismus" by E.T.A. Hoffmann), Carmilla ("Carmilla" by Sheridan Le Fanu), Clarimonde ("The death woman in love" by Théophile Gautier), the vampire in the poem "The Metamorphosis of the Vampire" by Baudelaire, the three vampire women, and Lucy ("Dracula" by Bram Stoker).

All these characters have something more in common than their fangs: they are beautiful women capable of making anyone who sees them fall completely into their arms, as opposed to their role of making the one they have chosen as their prey "fall".

The Gothic vampire is practically a succubus, but much less sexualized than one might think. Although many of these works, with the exception of the poem by the good Baudelaire (an author who should be fed separately on these matters), spare no pages in describing how beautiful they are, neither do they overly sexualize them, nor are they particularly flirtatious: even Clarimonde is dedicated to simply being there and letting her presence alone do the work.

This is something Annabel shares with the gothic vampire: though physically gorgeous, the framing in the comic doesn't tend to focus on her as an object of sexual desire, her beauty is highlighted, but in a way that is more akin to an ethereal or unattainable entity.

This is due to a mixture of two things: the Gothic novel is steeped in Catholic puritanism, and even if it is to present a villain who uses her attractiveness as a weapon, the erotic component is subtly exposed, and the vampire's angelic beauty offers a contrast to her status as an antagonist: beautiful on the outside, insidious on the inside.

This is another thing Annabel has in common with the gothic vampire: she is aware that her appearance gives her a haughty, elegant, and dignified air, identifiable enough to earn nicknames like "Queen" or "Queenie," and she knows how to capitalize on it. This contrasts with the darker parts of her personality.

Another thing that terrifies romantics about vampires is that these fangirl succubi possess a quality that makes us 21st-century readers raise an eyebrow because it's supposed to make us uncomfortable: a deep, honest, and sincere willingness to be affectionate.

In context, this makes sense: the vampire is a representation of sin, temptation, and lust. So their affection is something that leads the object of it away from the path of morality (this is the 19th century, this is really important).

I understand that because of the vampire's role in all of this, she is a devoted lover. Incredibly devoted, in fact: Clarimonde is Romuald's sugar mommy (no, I'm not kidding, I'm not exaggerating either), and Carmilla never stops showering Laura with affection and attention, satisfying this girl's craving for companionship after living in isolation.

Annabel does something similar: there is a genuine interest on her part to reach out and connect with Lenore, and in scenes like this, she goes out of her way to show her that she is an amazing person in her own right, rather than being her brother's shadow.

All kidding aside, I think of the archetypes I could find to analyze Annabel, this is the one that fits her best, even though she is not, well, literally a vampire. She seems to have several things in common with Carmilla in particular.

The Femme Fatale

We all have a more or less clear idea of what a femme fatale is: this extremely attractive, sexually active, badass woman who is there to make the male character's life miserable and has a 50% chance of smoking fine cigarettes with a cigarette holder. This is…partially true, but also highly inaccurate.

Although these characters can be traced back much further in mythology, this archetype gets its name and very specific form from Raymond Chandler, the founder of the noir novel. I'm not going to go into too much detail on this topic, as entire books could be written about it, so let's just focus on what's important.

The thing to understand about the context to understand the Femme Fatale is that we are in the 30-40's and although she has many more rights than 19th century women, the decadence shown in these works emphasizes that she is in a macho context where every single rule of the game is stacked against her. This is something that Femme Fatale is acutely aware of: no matter how well she plays the game, she will always lose.

This is something that Annabel shares with this archetype: she is very aware of the rules of the game, she knows backwards and forwards how the world works, so she is also aware that they are too heavily stacked against her to ever win. All she can do is resign herself, play the role as best she can, and find small distractions to cling to like a burning nail so as not to lose her head altogether.

Therefore, the Femme Fatale's approach to life is this: if the rules are stacked against her, that means she has the right to do whatever it takes to survive. These tactics usually include manipulation, deception, exploitation, and, of course, making the most of her sexual attractiveness because, unlike the vampire, she knows how to flirt and use sex as a weapon. What needs to be kept in mind here is that for this character archetype, the use of these wiles comes not because she is factory evil, but as a coping mechanism within a system she cannot win against. If this ultimately makes her a villain, it's more about her role within the story in which it plays out than anything about the archetype itself.

Here's an interesting difference between the Annabel we see in Lenore's memories and the one we see in the present day of the comic: Annabel used to be willing to play by the rules, but the thing she learned from Lenore is that cheating is more than possible. As a result, her attitude has become much closer to that of a Femme Fatale, using her extensive knowledge of the rules to her advantage, going with the flow for personal gain. Her methods are much closer to those of the Hypocrite (especially since we haven't seen Annabel use her body or affection as currency yet), but there are definitely similarities.

Another thing about the Femme Fatale (when she is NOT a villain) is that, like the Vampire, she operates within a duality: an exterior built to be sexy in a somewhat intimidating way (which is why the aesthetics of many of these characters can be interpreted within BDSM culture), but with some goodness in her heart. A really clear example of this is Vivian Sternwood from The Big Sleep (the first novel on the subject published by Raymond Chandler): her own father describes her as "rude, demanding, clever, and quite ruthless," and Marlow, our detective, will have a long series of uncomfortable encounters with her. But by the end of the novel, when he is faced with the same choice Vivian must have made in the past, he cannot help but realize that despite everything, this woman would rather keep painful secrets than harm her family, whom she loves dearly.

So if you're wondering why the framing of scenes like this looks familiar, that's why.

Add to that the three layers of how her aesthetic works: an angelic appearance for when she needs to play dumb, her gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlboss bullshit face for when she needs to demonstrate authority, and framing where it should make you directly uncomfortable.

Looks are one of the strengths of Femmel Fatale's performance. And it's one of the strengths of Annabel's performance.

Conclusions

One interesting thing about looking at Annabel in this light is to realize two things: first, that many of the archetypes her character seems to take notes from are often in the role of antagonists or, for that matter, villains.

The other is that these archetypes are quite well ordered and connected: the gothic vampire is the inspiration for the Femme Fatale of Noir (her beta version, if you can call it that), and the Hypocrite shares a historical writing period with many female vampires. From her conception, Annabel is constructed in a fairly orderly fashion, and believe me, that's a huge contrast to what's going to happen with Lenore (which I'll get to soon, but I need to brush up on my picaresque novel notes).

The last thing I want to point out in this review is this: unless you're a Nick Wilde-style Hypocrite, Hypocrites and Vampires in general tend to have utter destruction in store for them. The Noir, for its part, puts us in a situation where the Femme Fatale, even if she wants to change, is generally too deep in this tangle to get out.

So what I find interesting about Annabel in this regard is:

This is actually THE scene that shows us Annabel timidly stepping out of the scheme of things. She doesn't seem to want to change, in fact I'd bet she's terrified to change, but even though she's repeating her father's toxic pattern here, she's also breaking it without realizing it.

It's too early to tell if we'll see Annabel have some sort of redemption towards less harmful behavior, or if we'll end up seeing her become a villain altogether. But I'm really curious to see where this story goes with all of these elements.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #So this is about 3000 words long #I want to die #Spoiler with Lenore we'll talk about rogues knights and womens with tuberculosis #femme fatale #hypocrite #vampire

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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WIBTA if I told my sister she wasn't entitled to everything just because she's pregnant?

I (19F) have a younger sister, E, who just turned 18. She got emancipated when she was 16, and moved out to go and live with her boyfriend (my age). E is currently 8 months pregnant. She shared with me, the day she found out, that her baby 100% does NOT belong to her boyfriend of 3 years. This is important because he continues to stay with her, much to his parents' discontent. She lived with him for about 6 months of her pregnancy, but absolutely trashed their house every day, refused to work, and refused to do anything around the house other than smoke weed in their bedroom, so they called our mom, and forced her to come and pick E up.

We let E stay at our house after that. It's important to note that we live in a 4 bedroom, where our youngest sibling still lives in our parents bedroom, and one of our other younger siblings had to give up their room for her to stay in. She got a job in our small town (~3000 people), and started to spread rumors at work about how terrible we were, how we were forcing her to work while pregnant, and taking all of her paycheck. None of which was happening. Our parents told E that she could either get a job and pay for some of the groceries, or she could give us her food stamps payments, which she usually sells for weed, as there are 4 other kids under the age of 18 in the house that they have to provide for. E later got fired for smoking weed in the bathroom of the restaurant where she worked. When we brought up how she'd need to give us that months food stamps for us to let her stay, because she got fired, she brought me into the argument. She said that since I was over 18, I should have to work as well to earn my spot in the house, when in reality, most of what I do all day is clean up after and take care of our younger siblings. My mom argued back on my behalf, saying that since I'm disabled, and my disability checks, as well as child support payments from my biological father, go to living expenses, I shouldn't be suddenly forced to move out when I do my share of work around the house. E blew up on our mom for defending me, citing her own history of mental health issues and her pregnancy, and left.

A few weeks ago, she came back, asking for a room while she waited for her new apartment to clear, as her boyfriend's parents had once again kicked her out. Our parents agreed, on the grounds that she stay in the trailer we have on the property, as opposed to taking over our younger sibling's room again, because she completely trashed it last time and refused to clean or fix anything she broke. She agreed.

Here's where I may be the asshole. Every time she's in the house proper, she badgers me to make her food, when I am clearly busy cleaning or taking care of one of our younger siblings. She takes over the chair that our mom has to sit in for her back issues, citing her pregnancy as to why she needs the extra back support. She uses our younger sister's expensive bath products, which she had to get a babysitting job to pay for herself, without asking, and didn't stop when asked, despite having her own bath products. She constantly complains about how I never do anything, despite the fact that while she says that, I'm actively cleaning up after her the same amount I am a literal four year old, while she never even lifts a finger to help out, or even make her own food. She does not pay for food, or pay any sort of rent at all, as she's only supposed to be here for a few more weeks. The absolute last straw for me was when I, a chronically ill person who has to have a very specific diet and meal replacement shakes, came out of my room to see her eating from a tupperware container literally labeled with my name, and drinking one of my meal replacement shakes.

Would I be the asshole if I told her that just because she's pregnant, that doesn't mean she's entitled to all of our things? I want to tell her that she needs to start making her own food, and cleaning up after herself, instead of forcing me to do it. I want to tell her that, just because I'm her older sister, that doesn't mean that I still have to take care of her like our 4 and 7 year old ones. That she doesn't need to keep taking from things specifically bought by/for another person in the house, without offering to pay for it or compensate?

WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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the-offside-rule · 3 months

Text

Mick Schumacher (Alpine WEC) - I'll Wait

Requested: yes

Prompt: 45) "I don't love you anymore"

Warnings: just very sad tbh

Mick stared at Y/n, disbelief in his eyes as her words echoed in his ears. "I don't love you anymore." She said, the weight of the confession settling in the room. "And how long have you felt this way?" He asked. "A few weeks now." She replied. "And you couldn't have said this sooner?" His voice rose and Y/n found herself taking a step back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Mick muttered, holding the bridge of his nose. "Just let me ask you this; have I given you a reason to break up with me?" He asked. "Mick-"

"No, please. Am I a bad boyfriend or something?" He asked. "No, I just-" He cut her off. "Do I not give you enough attention or time or something?" He asked. "No! Mick, just listen-"

"So what do you want me to do? Why are you breaking up with me? I don't-"

"What are my favourite flowers?" He stood quietly at her question. "What?" He was truly dumbfounded. "My favourite flowers, go." He shrugged. "Obviously roses or tulips." She shook her head. "No, they're sunflowers because they reminded me of you because you got them for me on our first date. Second question-"

"This isn't a game show." He said. "I am giving you reasons. Now where is my favourite place in the whole entire world?" She asked. "You like Paris a lot." Mick replied. "It's nice but it's not my favourite place. My favourite place is the book shop I always go to. The one where you can get coffee and sit and read." She explained. "So this is over flowers and bookshops?"

"It is 9ver you not getting me. And yes, you obviously race a lot and maybe I'm not your top priority-"

"You are. You always have been." Mick protested. "Not recently. Not since you got the Mercedes job, it's like you always go to races, you forget to message me, I always have to check up on you. I was not your mother, I was your girlfriend." Y/n said, anger now in her voice. "Are. You are my girlfriend." She shook her head. "No, no not anymore, I'm afraid."

Tears welled up in Mick's eyes as he simply looked at her."Please, Y/n, don't leave. We've been through so much together. We can work through this." He pleaded, his voice cracking. Y/n hesitated, her gaze avoiding his. "Mick, we've grown apart. I need to find myself, and I can't do that while holding onto what we used to be." Mick's pleas turned into desperate words, "I'll change, I'll do anything. Just give us another chance." His arms wrapped around her tightly, not wanting to let go. Y/n didn't hold him back. She knew she would only take back everything she said. She had to firm it. "It's too late, Mick. We're not the same people we were when we started this journey. I need to let go." She replied, pulling away from his embrace.

As Mick's tears fell, he reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to hold onto the love slipping away. Y/n gently pulled away, leaving Mick broken and alone. "I'm sorry, Mick." She said as she watched him break by the second. "Mick?" He looked back at her. "If I do find myself missing you, I'll come right back. Maybe this time is what we need." She shouldn't have given him that hope. Y/n was almost 99% sure this was what she wanted. "I'll wait." Mick whispered. Those two words, broke both of their hearts. "Goodbye, Mick." Y/n left, closing the door behind her.

In the silence that followed, the weight of their shared history lingered through every corner of the apartment, but the love that once thrived had vanished, the colours all around had suddenly gone grey. Mick's heartache echoed in the empty spaces, and Y/n walked away, leaving behind a shattered connection that time couldn't mend.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher x yn #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher angst #mick schumacher

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 27 days

Note

Do you think Tom getting Hagrid expelled was probably the best thing to happen to him? Because, assuming the Chamber of Secrets fiasco never happened, Aragog would have got out of Hagrid's trunk and he would have killed someone eventually.

It was probably pretty clear to everyone that Hagrid didn't open the Chamber and Aragog didn't attack anyone, as why would a Acromantula petrify a bunch of students and kill only one without eating any of them? Hell, Acromantula's can't even petrify people, so Aragog's clearly not the culprit. But, they were just the covenient scapegoat to make it seem like they were doing something.

It must have been pretty easy to justify Hagird remaining on school grounds as gamekeeper since he was just the fall guy and to everyone else the real culprit must have either got cold-feet after Myrtle's death or got killed themself by whatever monster they were using since the attacks stopped after that.

But, without the Chamber opening, Aragog would have no doubt escaped sooner or later and would have made lunch out of some poor little first-year. If that happened, Hagrid would have probably ended up in Azkaban.

There's a lot to unpack here.

What I Think is the Going Theory By People

At first, it looked like a prank, a very terrifying and unsettling prank but a prank. Someone rights blood on the walls that The Chamber of Secrets is Open, Enemies of the Heir Beware. And just. What the fuck.

The prank continues to get worse as several students are petrified. However, there's a key thing there, they are petrified and not killed. Petrification is a terrible but very reversable process with no after effects going by what we see in canon. It's just a pain in the fucking ass and you better hope you have enough mandrakes on hand or else it'll take for fucking ever to order them all.

Because of that, while it is terrifying and harmful, it's not quite the same as say when Katie Bell was cursed by the amulet in HBP where she had to go to an intensive ward in the hospital for months.

It still I imagine for most people falls in the realm of 'really stupid, dangerous, awful, what the fuck prank that some pureblood idiot thinks is funny'.

I imagine there's increasing speeches of "please knock this the fuck off whoever is doing this" at dinner in the Great Hall from Dippet and him only getting blank stares in response as the vast majority of students is not the ones doing it.

I'm sure like in canon people outside Slytherin blamed the most Pureblood Slytherin they could find (like how Harry assumed it was Malfoy at first), Dumbledore blamed Tom because he always does/he knows Tom is the Heir of Slytherin in actuality and that there might very well be a Chamber of Secrets or even if there isn't Tom would sure use the mantle if he ever found out about it, and I have my thoughts for what the Slytherin's thought but that's another post for another day.

Then a girl dies and suddenly this isn't a prank. There's a period of panic when the school is considered being shut down by the board, maybe there really is a Chamber of Secrets, and then they find a likely culprit, Rubeus Hagrid who has an Acromantula wandering around the school and has a history of bringing in extremely dangerous creatures into the school.

The thing is, I think most people at the time, and even later (barring those we see in canon who for their own reasons do not believe this) think it was Hagrid and a no brainer.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and then shock of all shocks a student dies. True, while Acromantulas don't petrify, it's entirely possible that the petrifications/blood on the walls wasn't Hagrid and an unrelated stupid Pureblood prank. Added to this we don't seem to get much of a sense of forensic investigations/autopsies when it comes to wizarding world crimes (note that crime scene investigations is never really mentioned and there's only Aurors who come up whose job is just to catch dangerous Dark Wizards, not figure out what the hell happened at a place). So, I'm not sure that they could conclusively say what Myrtle had or had not died from/if they did an autopsy. For that matter, I don't know if it's common enough knowledge of what death by Acromantula looks like in a body after X hours have passed.

It's also not clear, I'm sure to most people given that Hagrid seems to be a pioneer of studying creatures, how Acromantula's feed and how they behave. Do we know that Acromantulas under threat don't poison their victims then scamper away? Do they always bite to feed? Since we know the spiders are sapient this has an extra layer of spice as well--humans certainly don't always kill to feed.

Which makes the defense of Hagrid of "but Acromantulas don't cause petrification!" or "An Acromantula would definitely eat that person it came across and never kill them in any other circumstance" very thin.

I imagine it depends who you ask but there's probably a few prevalent theories on how this all fits together:

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle, but the blood and the petrifications were an unrelated stupid prank and no one wants to stick their nose into it after a girl died. After Hagrid's arrested/the death, all of it stops anyway so let's not think about it.

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle and Hagrid had prepared for this eventuality by writing blood on the walls and petrifying students via some other method left and right so that people would think it was a Pureblood Slytherin. Hagrid has notably had run-ins with Slytherins before (see Tom noting the werewolf cubs under the bed/presumably having clashes with Hagrid) and it's possible he already resented them and that this was a ploy to frame someone else for murder/the spider's activities.

Hagrid was innocent! Someone else unrelated used some other monster that then never struck again and was never seen again and was never found in fifty years since to kill Myrtle and petrify those students! Sure, Hagrid has a bad history of bringing in dangerous creatures, doesn't get along great with other students who keep narking on him, and has been quite isolated and admittedly resentful of Slytherins but he's innocent! Because he's a good person who'd never harm a fly! (Except that there's the possibility this was unwitting manslaughter because Hagrid was letting a spider roam the halls)

I don't think anyone thinks Hagrid's actually the Heir of Slytherin or that the Chamber of Secrets even really exists. There might be some, but they'd be considered very stupid.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and either the petrifications/blood was an unrelated prank from someone who was very unfunny or else Hagrid did it to cover up for himself/out of gleeful preparation for when his spider finally did kill someone. I imagine it depends who you ask, some will think Hagrid only did the death, some will think he did the whole Chamber of Secrets thing as well.

I imagine several don't even believe the Chamber existed or was opened at all but that Hagrid was definitely 100% guilty.

That is, unless you're Dumbledore, in which case it was that fucker Tom Riddle and you know it, you know it in your bones, you can smell it in the air, you just can't fucking prove it. But one day, Tom. One day.

Was Hagrid a Scapegoat/Was it Clear He Didn't Do it?

Honestly, I don't think he was. I think they honestly and truly believed that he was the one responsible because of what's outlined above. Added to the fact that arresting him caused it all to stop when the spider disappeared... it's not a good look.

A scapegoat is one thing, but very important people's children all go to Hogwarts, and people like the Blacks, the Malfoys, so on and so forth don't want a scapegoat they want this stopped. If it was just Dippet appeasing them then I imagine there'd be a lot more pushback for investigation. I think the Board of Governors believes it was Hagrid as well as does the Wizengamot at large.

So, no, not a scapegoat, they 100% thought he did it.

Similarly, I think pretty much everyone except Dumbledore believed Hagrid was responsible. No, it wasn't obvious that Hagrid didn't do it (for much the reason it wasn't obvious to Harry and Ron after Riddle told them. Harry didn't want to believe Riddle, Hagrid's so nice, but it... tracks...)

The them getting killed themselves by the monster is... well... who is missing aside from Myrtle? And why would that stop the monster from rampaging? The spider's gone and we know it's gone so kind of makes sense that everything stopped when the spider's gone.

Was it Hard to Hire Hagrid?

I imagine it was actually quite difficult for Hagrid to be hired on as assistant groundskeeper. I think what saved him there was Dumbledore really going to bat with him for Dippet using the "this poor orphan boy with no prospects and I personally think he isn't responsible for reasons I can't get into because no one will ever believe me" and Dippet feeling sympathy and telling himself "okay, Hagrid had his wand snapped, he is an orphan with no prospects who will starve if we don't employ him here, and his supervisors can keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything".

I imagine a lot of the students and the Board of Governors were very leery of Hagrid being hired/in proximity of the students but some combination of Dippet and Dumbledore brushed that under the rug.

By the time we get to canon enough time has passed, enough has happened, that people have kind of forgotten about this as shown by it not being discussed until the Aurors arrive for Hagrid because "wow Hagrid, this is exactly like fifty years ago, you're still here, and we have you on record saying things like 'all Slytherins are evil at birth', are we doing this again, Hagrid?"

Would Hagrid Have Ended Up in Azkaban if the Spider Had Killed Someone?

Honestly, I don't think anything would have changed from what happened in canon. Because this is what people thought happened.

If there was no Chamber of Secrets debacle and this just randomly happened I think Dumbledore would still go to bat for Hagrid and get him the groundskeeping job (as it seems Dumbledore must have covered for Hagrid in the past). Dumbledore would probably blame Tom Riddle or else quietly admit it was probably Hagrid but Hagrid's just so sweet and it was clearly an accident.

Given that this is exactly what the Wizengamot/greater Wizarding World thought happened, I think Hagrid would be given the same punishment of expulsion and wand snapping, probably because it's manslaughter and he's a minor.

It was only when we went for round 2, fifty years later when Hagrid's an adult and it's looking very purposeful/not like manslaughter, that Hagrid got his stint in Azkaban.

And at this fucking point--

Well, @therealvinelle and I have an @rankheresy episode planned. I'll just leave it there.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #the chamber of secrets #rubeus hagrid #anti rubeus hagrid #meta #headcanon #opinion

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