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#been working on this for a while! i'm certain i'll think of more questions after posting but at this point i just gotta post it
acealistair · 8 months
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RPG Character Development Questions!
Trying my hand at making one of these, specifically aimed towards D&D characters but it should also work for other TTRPGs and video games like Dragon Age.
Send me any number of emojis for any of my characters! Anyone is welcome to reblog! 😊
~*~*~CHARACTER DESIGN~*~*~
👀: Describe their physical appearance in as much detail as possible. Facial features, colors, height, build, etc. 👄: How do they talk? What's their vocabulary like? What does their voice sound like? Any accent, verbal tics, etc? 👃: Do they smell like anything in particular? Why do they smell like that? 🏷️: What is their full name? Do any of their names have any special meaning? How did you come up with them? 🌳: What physical traits did they inherit from their biological parents? Do they look more like one parent than the other? ♦️: Are there any motifs you associate with them? What do those motifs represent thematically? 🎨: What is their color scheme? Or at least colors you associate them with? 🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why? 💭: What was the original concept for your OC? Has it changed at all since then? 📺: Is your OC inspired at all by characters from other media? Which one(s) and what traits do they have in common? 🛡️: How does their class inform their characterization? How does their personality match or clash with the stereotype for that class? 📖: Describe your ideal character arc for them. How do you envision them changing by the end of the story?
~*~*~SKILLS/HOBBIES~*~*~
📊: What is their best stat? What is their worst/dump stat? How do these affect how you roleplay as them? 🗡️: What type of weapon do they normally use? Is there a particular reason for it? ✨: Are they a magic user? If so, how did they come to learn it (born with it, studied, acquired, etc.)? What does their magic look like when cast? If not, what is their attitude towards magic? 🖌️: What is their go-to hobby? When did they start learning it? Why do they like it? 🔨: Do they have any practical skills they wouldn't consider a hobby? What sorts of skills and how/why did they learn them? 🍳: Are they good at cooking? Do they like to? Why and how did they learn to cook, or, if they didn't, why didn't they? 🎵: Are they any good at singing? What situations do/would they sing in? Would they sing in the shower? 🎻: Do they know how to play an instrument? If so which one(s)? Do they enjoy music in general? 💃: How do they feel about dancing and are they any good at it? Do they prefer solo, partnered, or group dancing? 🚗: In a modern AU, what kind of job would they have, if any? 🎁: If they needed to give a friend a gift, how would they go about choosing one? Would they buy it, make it, or do something else? Would others consider them good at gift-giving? 📚: Do they like to read books? If so, what sorts of books do they prefer to read? If not, why don't they like reading? ✍: What does your character's handwriting look like? Do they write letters often? What other contexts do they usually write in, if any?
~*~*~PERSONALITY~*~*~
🙂: What are three of their personality traits that others would generally consider positive? 🙁: What are three of their personality traits that others would generally consider negative? 😱: Do they have any irrational fears/phobias? How do they cope with them? Has a phobia ever impacted the game you play them in? 😭: How easily do they cry? Do they ever cry in front of other people? When was the last time they cried? 💢: How quick are they to anger? What is a surefire way to piss them off? What do they act like when angry? 😄: How can you tell when they're really happy? What sorts of things make them happy? How often do they smile? 😳: How easily are they embarrassed/flustered? What sorts of things catch them off-guard and make them lose their cool? 🏁: What do they consider to be their main goal in life, the thing that motivates most of their actions? 🤲: Do they have any deep desires that they don't talk about and/or don't even realize they have? Do these desires conflict with their main goal at all? 🗣️: How social are they? Do they speak to strangers because they like to or only when necessary? How differently do they act with strangers vs. friends? 🐾: How do they feel about animals? Do they have/want any pets? Do they have a favorite animal?
~*~*~BACKSTORY~*~*~
😬: Did they ever make a major decision in their past that they regret? How are they handling it now? 🙏: What are their feelings on religion? If they are religious, what do they practice? How much of an impact does it have on their daily life? 🎓: What was their education like? Do they have any favorite subjects? What is their preferred learning style? 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦: What is their family like? Are there any family members that are particularly influential and/or important to them (whether in a positive or negative sense)? 🛝: Do they have any childhood friends? If so, are they still in touch with them? What is their relationship like now (or why did it end)? 🧸: What was their favorite childhood toy and why? 🚸: Would they consider their childhood to have been a happy one? Why or why not? Does their perception of that differ from yours as their player? 🌹: Are they experienced romantically? How many romantic partners have they had? How has this affected their view of romance? 😡: Do they have any enemies and/or rivals from their past? How serious of a threat are they to your OC?
~*~*~RELATIONSHIPS~*~*~
💘: Do they have a "canon" romantic partner? If so, who is it and what is their relationship like? If not, what kind of person would be the optimal romantic partner for them (the most interesting narratively, not necessarily the healthiest/what they think their preferences are)? 😍: What traits, physical and/or mental, do they find attractive in other people? 💒: How does your character feel about marriage? Have their feelings on marriage ever changed? 🎉: Who are their party members/companions? Describe each of their relationships with your OC (however brief or detailed you want). 💍: Among their current companions, are there any that are narrative foils to your OC? How so? 🍼: How do they feel about children in general? Do kids get along with them? Do they have/want kids of their own (now or down the line)? 🤝: How do they express platonic affection? When does an acquaintance become a friend for them? 🥰: Who do they currently consider to be their best friend and why? Has their best friend changed over time? 🫂: How are they with casual physical touch? Do they have different boundaries based on how well they know a person? Is there a specific reason behind their comfort level?
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months
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oh, to fit him like a glove...
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WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
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he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
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Masterlist
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reacting to their s/o being pregnant I Corazon, Doflamingo, Law, Smoker, Sabo, Ace, Kid
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Corazon, the gentle and caring soul he is, would notice subtle changes in your behavior and appearance before you even realized you're pregnant.
He'd probably start by making your favorite meal or fetching things you might need without even asking. Not because he knows exactly what's going on, but because his maternal instincts are subconsciously strong.
One day, he returned from work to find you asleep in his feather coat, nestled on your shared bed with a positive pregnancy test on the sideboard. Shocked, he slipped, inadvertently waking you up. As you opened your eyes, you saw the tall giant on his buttocks in front of the bed, all teary-eyed.
He'd approach you with a sweet smile and a gentle touch, hugging you in a warm embrace and assuring you that he's there for you no matter what.
"Mi amor, you've given me the greatest gift of all. I promise to be by your side every step of this journey, just as you've been by mine."
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Doflamingo's reaction might be a bit unexpected. He's not known for his compassion, but the news would still surprise him since he's always keen on protection.
He'd likely raise an eyebrow and give a smirk at the news, questioning you with his signature teasing tone, "Well, well, how unexpected. Don't tell me you forgot your pill on purpose."
Despite his initial demeanor, he'd keep a close eye on you, ensuring your comfort and well-being, even if he doesn't openly express it. Despite trusting Diamante and Trebol with his life, he would keep them at an arm's length away from you.
His soft side might manifest through subtle actions like providing comfort during late-night cravings, secretly getting things you wish for, or wrapping you in his pink feather coat.
"Well, well, well, it seems life has thrown us an interesting curveball. Don't think I'm going soft now, but I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to the future ruler of Dressrosa."
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Law, with his cool and collected exterior, might take a moment to process the news before his emotions catch up. He had already guessed what was up from your antsy behavior and Bepo telling him about your frequent late-night kitchen visits, but reality hit differently.
He'd likely pause, his gaze softening as he looks at you nervously biting your lip, almost certain he would react with disdain. Instead, a small, genuine smile would grace his lips, before he placed his hat on your head and embraced you in a warm hug, reassuring you of his stance.
Not much phased by obstetrics, he would start researching everything about pregnancy and childbirth, wanting to be as informed as possible to support you. Naturally, he would deliver the baby himself, his Room providing a secure and painless environment for you. He's too protective to let anyone else handle it.
While he might not show it outwardly, he'd be incredibly protective and make sure your needs are met, especially health-wise. Regular check-ups are a must, and if Shachi and Penguin annoy you, they can be sure to experience some rearranged limbs.
"You're amazing, you know that? I'm not sure I'm quite fit to be a father, but if we're going to navigate this together, I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you and the baby are safe and healthy. We've got this."
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Smoker would show a mix of surprise and concern upon hearing the news, his gruff exterior cracking just a bit.
He´d ask questions related to your health, ensuring that you're taking proper care of yourselves. He'd be on high alert, especially since he tends to smoke heavily.
As time goes on, he'd soften around the edges, finding himself more attentive and willing to offer help and assistance, even quitting smoking around you.
He might not express his emotions openly, but his actions would speak volumes, like quietly making sure you don't overexert yourselves or subtly rearranging your environment for safety.
"I never planned for something like this, but just know I've got your back. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."
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Sabo's reaction would likely be a mix of joy and a hint of nervousness, as he'd want to ensure the best for you and the baby.
He'd start leaving cute notes or small gifts for you, showing his excitement in his own sweet way.
Sabo would take on the role of an unofficial cheerleader, always ready to provide you encouragement and reassurance.
He'd also engage in deep conversations with you about your future as parents and what you envision for your family. Luffy, Ace, and Koala would often visit and assist you with whatever you need.
"I can't even express how happy and blessed I feel right now. You and our baby mean everything to me. Let's face this adventure together, with all the love and support we need."
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Ace would be the embodiment of enthusiasm and excitement, immediately hugging you and spinning you around in a joyful embrace.
He'd become even more attentive than usual, constantly checking in on you and asking if you need anything.
Given his troubled childhood and strained relationship with his own dad, he might face phases of doubt. However, if you have his back as much as he does during his enthusiastic phases, you'll quickly pull him out of it.
You can bet he'd be doing research on how to be the best dad, and he'd share interesting and quirky facts he found on the internet.
He'd proudly proclaim the news to Luffy, Ace, and Garp, and he'd be the one organizing a surprise baby shower with Marco's help.
"I still can't believe all of this. We're going to be parents! I promise to make our family life full of love and appreciation. Just trust me on this."
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Kid's reaction might be a mix of surprise and a bit of concern about how this new development might affect his life plans.
However, as time goes on, he'd find himself growing more attached to the idea of becoming a parent.
He'd be the one to plan practical things like ensuring the home is baby-proofed and preparing for the baby's arrival in a pragmatic way.
Slowly, his tough exterior would soften, and he'd become more openly supportive and affectionate towards you, showing that he's fully invested in this new chapter of your lives.
"Honestly, I didn't see that coming, but I'm not one to shy away from challenges. We're in this together, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are safe. You can count on me."
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emmyrosee · 9 months
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You’ve been… needy, today.
Normally, Kiyoomi is immune to it, if anything, he embraces your clingiest of affections and he takes them with ease, but today, for some reason, you’re nuzzling and nudging at him with every little thing, your eyes curved into a sad pout every time he looks down at you.
It seems like you’re insatiable, you’re on a craving for a fix you can’t seem to get, and he’s fairly certain you’ve almost cried at him a few times for that little bit of affection you can’t seem to get enough of, and normally Kiyoomi can read you like a novel, front to back.
Today, it’s almost like you’re a different person- no longer able to voice their needs, but plead for him to figure it out. Someone who doesn't seem to trust him, but still eggs for assurance and validation.
And he doesn't know why, but he can't pinpoint it this time.
He's exhausted every avenue, he's does everything he can think of, every question he could ask has either given him no answer or another needy little choke in your answer. He doesn't know, okay, he's trying, but he doesn't want to just ask you point blank because there's a part of him that feels like he should know.
There's also a glimmer in your eyes that tells him that he should figure it out.
Finally, for whatever reason, you stop.
Now, you're creating distance, and he hates this even more than you trying to crawl into his skin.
At least then, you still wanted him.
"I'm going to shower."
Your voice cuts him out of his detecting, snapping him from his thoughts as he nods encouraging at you. If he didn't feel like it would end in a fight, he'd cheesily ask if you wanted him to join you, but the question dies when you spin on your heel to leave him in the bedroom, alone.
He needs to know. He has to figure it out.
There's a buzzing of his phone that snaps him out of his pity party, and enthusiastic text from Hinata about the new jersey designs. Something about how they need sizing and promo pictures, and they should all get together to plan.
At this point, Hinata couldv'e texted him about anything on the planet and he would've gone. In his head, he weighs his options of staying here and leaving the jersey talk for tomorrow.
Or leaving, and letting you both have some time apart to sort out your feelings.
He's barely able to think on it before his feet force him to get up and make his way to the bathroom, popping open the door to call to you.
He just hopes this works.
"Baby, I'll be back!" He calls, voice above the rushing water.
"Wait- what?" You call back.
"Hinata needs to steal me for a while to talk about our new jerseys, I should be back in a few hours."
"Kiyoomi-"
"I love you!" He says, interrupting you before closing the door and making his way out of the house. He hopes that some distance may calm whatever it is inside of you,
By the time he comes home, he's surprised to see the lights turned on.
Typically Kiyoomi can come home at any hour and find you in bed, asleep, clinging to his pillow, but tonight, it seems you either forgot to shut everything down, or you're still awake.
Maybe if you're awake, you'll be able to sort out whatever happened today before going to bed.
When he walks in, the house is quiet. Scarily quiet.
"Nice of you to show up."
Yeah. You're up. And you sound bored.
The house is still active, but rather than make a dash for him to leap into his arms for affection, you're instead on the couch, eyes heavy and face sad.
After a whole day of trying to cling to him and his every move, now you're willing to be sedate?
He sighs and walks to meet you in the living room, and whatever angry look you try to pull gets demolished by the wobbling of your lip. “What’re you still doing awake?”
You turn to look up at him sadly, tears swollen in your waterline as you blink at him expectantly. “I missed you.”
He smiles at your words before shrugging off his jacket and folding it over in his arms, “I missed you too, baby. How was your night?”
“Quiet.” Your lips twitch as if you want to say more, but no other words fall from your lips. He gives you a small chuckle and scratched the back of his head.
“That’s… exciting,” he offers. You shrug. The tenseness in the room makes him want to throw up, he’s not used to this coldness from you- typically, you’re throwing yourself at him, especially with how you were acting earlier, but now you seem like you couldn’t care less about him. "Did you do anything?"
"Nope."
"Oh..."
"Where did you go?"
He shrugs, "Hinata and Bokuto wanted to talk about the new jerseys and the plan for practice tomorrow; then we got dinner and had some drinks."
"And you didn't think to text me? Not once?"
Chills run up his spine as your question comes with an emotioned voice crack, "I... I guess it slipped my mind... I'm sorry."
"Mm."
He swallows thickly, but his pounding head desperately wants to call it a night. “Why don’t we go to bed, baby?”
“You go ahead, im gonna get some water.”
He smiles and nods as he makes haste to the bedroom, happy facade dropping once his back is towards you. All he wants right now is to curl up next to you and knock the rest if the day away, praying that you're in a similar headspace.
He all but tears off the clothes on his back, dressing into far more comfortable wear as he goes to wash his face. Usually, you're right next to him, butting your head against him, nudging him to the side so you can join him, or youre sitting on the closed toilet seat just to watch him.
You seemingly have no interest in doing that tonight.
By the time Kiyoomi's done, his stomach churns as you're still not in bed, surely it hasn't taken you more than two minutes to get some water, and with an exhausted, and almost annoyed groan, he shuffles back down the hall to see you.
You... you haven't moved.
“Hey,” he mumbles, rubbing his eye. “How come you’re out here? I thought we were going to bed?”
“You didn’t kiss me today.”
He didn’t?
“What do you mean?” He asks, stalking over to the couch. You shuffle over to make room for him, but your eyes never meet his. “I kissed you so many times today, baby.”
“No,” you snip. “You didn’t. I know, because I’m so used to you giving me kisses.”
“I’m... I'm sorry, I guess I just-“
“And you barely hugged me, either,” you sniffle. His brows furrow and instinctively, he tosses an arm around your shoulder to try and calm you down. “Any time I’d reach for you, you’d look at me like I was some nuisance, and make me feel bad for needing the affection.”
“Of course you’re not a nuisance!” He says, rocking you both. “God, fuck baby, I’m sorry, I thought you just needed some more attention than usual and I just-“
“I’m not done.”
A wave of nervousness shudders down his spine, but he pulls back slightly to give you your room to piece together your thoughts. Had he really been that neglectful today?
“You didn’t even eat dinner with me; you went out with the boys. I was in the shower, I didn’t even get a kiss goodbye- you called out a quick ‘love you!’ and went off doing whatever it was you did tonight. You didn’t call, and you didn’t text, and I was home alone, thinking that I did something wrong.”
"No wonder you’re upset- I’m sorry, baby. Whatever I did today wasn’t a reflection of how much I love you; I just got a little busy, and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
You completely deflate. God, what has he done?
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he says sweetly, planting a kiss to your temple. “I never, ever wanted to hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry I did.”
You’re quiet. There’s a strange feeling of dread in the air. The longer you pause, the more he feels the anxiety settling in the pit of his soul.
"You really don't know why I'm mad...?"
He chokes on his own breath, "I... I didn't know you were mad..."
You hiccup in sadness, and he feels like he can't breathe.
The clock on the tv changes to 23:59, and you sigh sadly.
“Happy anniversary.”
You stand up without a word, letting Kiyoomi’s head fall forward along with his jaw. He looks at you in absolute terror, all while you face away from him, hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
The room is shrouded in suffocating silence, smothering anything Kiyoomi could say before he could even think of the words. Dark eyes dart over your frame. He feels sick, he could throw up on this rug right now, if he had anything to even puke up. Your shoulders heave, and he’d rather chew on broken glass covered alcohol before ever wanting him and his neglect to be the reason for your distress.
“I forgot,” he blurts.
No shit.
“I know you did.”
“How… could I forget?”
“You tell me.”
“I-I-I-I set so many reminders, how did I…”
“It doesn’t matter,” you snip, turning on your heel to stalk back down the hallway to your bedroom. “You forgot. And the day is over. It doesn’t matter.”
It does, he wants to argue. It matters, because you matter to him, and he abandoned you on a night that is so sacred to him, the day you crashed into his life and made him realize that whatever he was doing that put you on the road to him, was exactly where he wants to be.
He looks down at the clock on his iPhone, as it creeps over the 45 second mark, and he darts down the hallway. He runs like he’s being chased, like he’s on fire, and you can’t hide your noise of surprise when he bursts into your bedroom and tosses gangly arms around you and plants kisses all over your face.
He holds you so tight you could pop, and he sponges all the kisses he can over your neck and cheeks, and he hears you trying to fight back a giggle, and it only eggs him on to continue.
“I love you,” he pants. “I love you, I love you so much, every day I’m grateful for whatever being is watching us for putting me on the road to you. I don’t know who I worshipped right to be here, but I’ll be damned if I let my own stupidity sabotage that.”
“Kiyoomi,” you say, voice delicate and trying to stop itself from breaking. “You forgot. I just wanted... I wanted you to show up. You couldn't even give me that."
Now it's his turn for his lip to wobble.
You sniff sharply, "just forget about everything, I don’t care anymore.”
“But I care-“
“Clearly, you don’t,” you snap, trying to squeeze out of his grip. “I don’t have the energy for this right now. Let’s just go to bed.
“I’m not about to let this go.”
“Neither am I, but my demons need to rest.” Your eyes dart at his alarm clock, “yours too, apparently. Tomorrow you’re getting sized for jerseys- hopefully you didn’t forget that other important thing.”
Your words sting him sharply, even if he deserves every single one of them. He reels back slightly, gnawing at his lip as he tries to think of ways to fix this, fix the way you’re looking at him and feeling, fix the clear hole he’s singed into your heart.
You curl up into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets high, and he doesn’t know how long he does it, but he just stares at you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to scream at him, or cry, or do something that he should feel even more shitty for.
But it doesn’t happen.
You sniffle a few times, shuffle once or twice, and he doesn’t know just how long he’s been standing there until your breathing turns rhythmic and peaceful for the first time today. Your shoulders rise and fall, back facing away from him and god, he feels like such a loser about to lose the greatest thing that's ever happened to him.
Probably because he is.
You're going to leave him. You're going to see just how much he takes you for granted, how much more you're worthy of and how much more love anyone can give you- even if you still wanted to stay in the jackals, and he wouldn't blame you for shifting your love to someone like Hinata or Meian for a second.
A cold breeze smacks Kiyoomi in the face as, at some point in his spiraling, he ends up outside, keys jingling in hands and hoodie pulled messily on top of his head. His legs seem to know where he's going, even if he doesnt.
His legs take him everywhere that could possibly be open right now, there's no store with a three mile radius that he hasn't bought out between candy, chocolates, a few stuffed bears you'll adore, and three or four types of pizzas and sushi dishes each.
He doesn't care about the strange looks the cashiers and other patrons give him. He cares about trying to remember if you prefer sour or normal gummy bears. He cares about remembering if you like plain pizza or toppings.
He also cares about the way this pillow won't sit the hell up.
He cares immensely about the way the chairs from the island in the kitchen have no grip to them, and refuse to keep the blankets strewn across them up.
And fuck the knitted blanket draped over the lamp and top of the couch, because it refuses to stay the hell up and he's had to make at least four mad dashes to catch the falling object.
The fifth, naturally, crashes to the floor, and he can only sigh in defeat as he continues to fix the fort for the nth time.
"I'm armed," your voice yells from down the hall.
He chuckles, "no you're not."
You groan in annoyance before padding down the hall, and he turns his head to acknowledge your exhausted arrival.
“What’re you doing, Kiyoomi?” You ask, knuckling your eye. “It’s one in the morning.”
“It’s 12:23 pm on the east coast in America.”
You cock a brow, and he blinks simply before turning back to his blanket fort. He feels your eyes boring into his skull, but he ignores it. He’s busy.
“Uhm… thank you for the fun fact?”
“It’s 1:23 yesterday.”
“…and?”
“Komori is on the east coast,” he says easily, tongue poking out in focus. “Somewhere, I don’t really know where, I don’t know American geography. Which basically means a part of me is on the United States east coast. So, by the transitive property-“ he stands up and presents the messily made fort. “We still get to celebrate our anniversary.”
You smile sadly at his efforts but your bottom lip wobbles all the same, “kiyoomi, you forgot. Just drop it, okay?”
“No.”
“Kiyoomi, I’m tired-“
“I bought us some pizza,” he interrupts, lifting the reusable bags positively stuffed to the brim with other treats. “And i got those sour candies you like for some reason, but I picked aside all the ones you hate so you can just eat them in confidence-“
Your eyes glimmer in slight excitement.
“And-And-And I’ve got our favorite movies queued up, ready to go, but there’s a new playlist filled with love songs that I found-“
“Kiyoomi-“
“And god we haven’t danced around in months, do you remember the last time we danced? It was like… well, months.”
You giggle, and he brightens at the sound. He takes a soft sigh to calm down, “and I just… I know how bad I am at showing it.” He stands up and makes his way towards you, and when he cups your cheek in his hand and you mewl at him, he could cry from that alone. “But you are the only thing that matters. My only exception to any rule I could make. And I couldn’t give you the bare minimum, on the second most important day to do it.”
“Second?”
“If I forget your birthday, I need you to leave me,” he chuckles nervously. You slowly walk up to him as if timid and unsure, and when he opens an arm to ease you into a hug, he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he squeezes you close. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I know,” you assure. There’s a comforting silence between you both, your cheek nuzzled into the dip of his sternum before you hum.
“Can I go with you to size jerseys tomorrow?”
“I’m not going to get my jersey sized tomorrow,” he says without missing a beat. You tense up in his arms, and before you can protest, he shushes you and cups the back of your head to keep you close. “They will live for one day without me. It takes four minutes tops. They will get over it.”
“But-“
“No buts,” he says, pulling back and looking down at you.
“But-“
“No.” He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up, soft and familiar but just enough to keep you calm for him. You purr into the kiss and let your hands wander around his torso, fingers fisting the fabric of his night shirt tightly.
The fingers on your head gently fists the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you grounded for him, and the whimper you pant against him has him in euphoria.
“Thank you,” you sigh against his teeth. He shakes his head before pulling back slightly.
“Don’t thank me… not when I made you feel anything less than the love of my life.”
You chuckle and gently tug the waistband of his sweats. “I know you’re trying to make up for it, now.”
“You do?”
“How many men are gonna stay up, figure out the time zones in America and pick sour grape from my bag of candy just to try and fix a forgotten anniversary?”
He laughs and pulls you in for another hug, one tight and secure and as close as he can get you to snap any broken pieces together.
“I really am trying… I promise.”
“I know you are.”
3K notes · View notes
pingnova · 9 months
Text
I met a quiet old man while browsing the plant books and accessories at the trading post this spring who asked what I was looking for. Most white people came to look at the jewelry and the expensive woolen blankets, so I guess it was a little unusual how closely I was examining all of the books on plants.
I held up a deck of native plant playing cards and said I was a forager, looking for more guides on local plants. He nodded thoughtfully and said there was a lot of medicine in wild plants. I smiled awkwardly, not sure why he was talking to me. But I reciprocated: "What are you looking for?"
He said he wasn't sure. He pointed to a few books on flowers, not necessarily edible vegetables. "They're beautiful," he said unsurely.
I nodded to encourage him. "Plants aren't just for eating, they're for appreciating too. We need beauty and nutrition."
Now he smiled, mostly hidden by his mustache, and told me he had a community garden plot he had tended for the past thirty years. Wow, what dedication.
Abruptly he says he has one year to live. He's at the trading post to find parting gifts for his son and grandchildren. He says this all very calmly, he's clearly been preparing for some time. And I stare at him because he seems so well and I've just met him. The idea of him dead is disturbing and shameful.
"Oh," is all I can say.
"I think this year I'll fill it with flowers."
He says it so warmly. I remember he was talking about his beloved community garden patch. I'm filled with heaviness and disbelief that he is soon dying and here wasting time talking to some random about growing flowers. But I manage to stammer something.
"It can't all be vegetables. Soft and beautiful things are important too. Especially in hard times."
Now he fully turns to smile at me. Again in my shock I think he's too content. Shouldn't he be raging? Crying, screaming, anything? But his mustache is white, he mentioned an adult son and grandkids, he seems well enough now and reasonably confident in his plan for a full season of flower gardening. Rapid-fire I conclude he's already done all of this and doesn't need it from me. Right now he's just discussing how important and sacred plants are with a likeminded young stranger.
He finally says, "Flowers are a soft landing after a long battle."
I choke out some kind of agreement so I don't accidentally cry. I wish him some kind of luck and awkwardly crabwalk away. I'm not really the king of social interaction even when its not emotionally loaded.
I bought my cards and books on vegetables and looked at the lone few on flowers he had been perusing. I'm in my twenties and don't plan on dying anytime soon, but how much time do I spend being as fast, efficient, and artless as possible in order to "survive" when that survival is never even in question. I have anxiety, I have ptsd, I'm an activist. All necessary and inescapable works of life. But this man had a season to live, death certain, and wanted to spend it growing flowers.
I went back to the register with a small book on flowers. When I'm hunting a forest to learn the native vegetables, I no longer ignore the blooms. If the battle is long, I want to grow flowers too.
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therantingsage · 24 days
Text
Because I promised this, and I really wanted to do it anyway, here's a really really long-winded rambling dissertation on:
Why N and Uzi secretly dating since before episode 5 is genuinely super plausible and also stupidly hilarious /pos
Under the cut cuz it got obscenely long oops-
Idk where to start, so I'll just cover my bases: why people think they've been in a relationship already in the first place.
We all saw this scene:
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And legit it can only be implying one of two things. Either A: this is his confession of feelings for her. Or B: this is him admitting that they've been dating for a while at this point. With the hearts it's pretty clear that this statement is meant to be romantically interpreted, and Nori's aghast reaction confirms that that's how it's being interpreted.
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Obviously no matter the interpretation, N only writes that because he can't think of anything else to snap Uzi out of it and thereby stop this confrontation from ending poorly. And it works obviously so good on him for the quick thinking.
Two things that make me lean towards the 'we're dating' interpretation over 'confession' interpretation, though: firstly, he's not writing this to tell Uzi something, he specifically calls out to Nori before writing it. "Hey btw I'm dating your daughter" makes more sense than "Hey btw I like your daughter romantically" because if it was the latter, Nori has far less reason to be mad at Uzi about it rather than N. It's not like Uzi can control how N feels. But if they're dating, that means Uzi is partially to blame for that and Nori can get upset at HER.
Secondly, the awkward wording. Like it's really vague and without the hearts you'd have no reason to assume anything but platonic meaning. But these are words we, and him, have heard before:
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...from Uzi, in response to a question about who she is and, by proxy, the nature of their relationship. She says it defensively, follows it up by telling N to shut up. N repeating her wording which, again, is a description of the nature of their relationship....but this time implying something romantic with it, it suggests the idea that it had romantic implications the first time.
I don't think it's far-fetched to say Uzi at least has feelings for N at this point in the story. I don't think anyone's arguing that that's not true. But the idea that 'hang out' means the exact same thing both times is what I'm arguing here. They're dating, but this version of N is a stranger to her. A cute stranger, as she says, but a stranger nonetheless who she isn't comfortable admitting to that she's dating him in the future to his face.
Backing up a bit, Uzi's reaction to Nori's reaction:
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This is a clear and obvious parallel to the previous episode, when 'Tessa' says "Don't date my robot, please."
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In both instances, someone gets on her case about the idea of them dating, and in both cases she doesn't deny it but instead defends both his and her own agency in the matter. No one is allowed to tell them what to do and Uzi refuses to let anyone try.
When Nori says it, though, she does seem to try and deny it for a moment. "I'm not-" She cuts herself off so we can't say for certain what she was going to say (if anything. it's entirely possible she started that sentence with no plan how to finish it, I do that a lot personally). But that's also because, like, she's Uzi. If this was meant to be a secret relationship, it would probably be her who made that decision. And like with butler N, she has no reason to disclose that kind of information to a stranger. She'd probably try and deny it whether its true or not.
As for when it would've started, after camp is the only big timeskip where we don't have much clue went on during. Cabin Fever is a big episode for them, and the three episodes that come after it are all back-to-back-to-back. The only time it makes sense to have started is sometime between eps 4 and 5.
And guys. Guys.
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This, more than anything to me, paired with the idea that they've been dating for a while by the time the most recent couple episodes happen.....doesn't this seem so, so romantic? You could easily call this a love confession! So easily! It sounds like one much more than 'we just kinda are hanging out a lot idk' at least.
Like, rephrase that even a little: "Being with you makes scary things fun. Being with you makes me feel brave. It makes me feel safe. So I want to keep being with you."
And Uzi agrees with that sentiment. He promises to stick with her. And she laughs and smiles with him as he makes the scary thing she's been dealing with into something fun, something they can laugh about. The together line gets repeated in the most recent episode, directly calling back to this scene as well.
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Like, just...AGH. In Cabin Fever he says it once as they're falling and a second time once they're grounded. The second time its a question, and one she eagerly answers with physical affection, which is super rare for her. In Mass Destruction its a statement, because he already knows her answer. Its a repeated promise. A vow.
Backing up again. Let's assess some interactions under this context. Assuming they're dating in secret. Because it paints so many things in a different light and basically nothing contradicts it which is fricken wild. This:
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Isn't a sheepish Uzi trying to hold her crush's hand in a moment of fear. This is an Uzi who wants to keep their relationship a secret but is so in need of comfort right now she's willing to risk exposing them to get it.
This:
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Her being so relieved because she almost watched him die but he's alive he's ok and she doesn't care who sees it because she needs to hug her boyfriend rIGHT NOW GUYS I DON'T CARE I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND-
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This whole scene. Uzi interacts with him so gently here. She's not gentle with anybody else at all. She sees him stressed and uses his own "you good?" on him and it's just so dang tender when you think about it. Because no one else can hear them talking to each other. It's just these two sending face texts and everyone else's focus is on the Sentinal so they can afford to be as couple-y in this conversation as they want.
And after:
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Blushing because they like each other so so dang much.......sweating bullets because the other two can see them do this. Suddenly without either of them really thinking about it they're being romantic around other people and wow! That's nerve-wracking! Peak young love early-in-the-relationship behavior they ain't slick.
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His tone of voice in this scene is gentler I think than we've ever heard from him before (Michael Kovach you are so damn good at your job). His loss-filled fury is cooled in an instant when he realizes how close he came to hurting his girlfriend. It's heartbreakingly gentle before 'Tessa' cuts him off.
And when she cuts Uzi off:
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He looks like genuinely pissed at her. "Did you really just interrupt my gf while she was talking?? She's scared and you're disrespecting her tf is wrong with u??"
And like- the fact he was genuinely willing to off Tessa for her. Like he realizes there's a possibility she tried to get his gf killed for no reason and upon her not even trying to deny it he just kills her instantly. Because it's no longer a question of the universe or Uzi. It's a question of Tessa or Uzi, and its a choice his heart has already made before this point.
But here's like. The thing about all this that gets me. This is meant to be a secret relationship, right? Like nobody but them is supposed to know about this. And the fact that we the audience didn't have any reason to assume them to be an established relationship without heavy headcanoning means they did a decent job at that, right?
Guys. Guys.
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N is terrible at keeping secrets. Like. Horrendously bad at keeping things on the down-low. Every single time in the series he's supposed to not spill info he like. Fails. It's wild. And because the relationship happens after "Inclusive reflexes!" that means that Uzi damn well knows this and still trusts him to try.
But based on V's reaction to the handholding in Dead End:
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I'm honestly willing to bet she knew. She doesn't sound surprised, just annoyed that she has to see it. Which means N probably like, heard her badmouthing Uzi or something and got like way too defensive about it and she clocked him instantly. Because he's bad at keeping secrets. And she doesn't bother mentioning it during any of these episodes out loud because she doesn't care what these idiots do in their free time.
Can you imagine how many hundred close calls they must've had? How many times Uzi must've had to aggressively shush him or cover his mouth because he was going to say something slightly too sappy in public? The only reason we don't get to see the time period between eps 4 and 5 is because it would've been painfully obvious that these two dating is the worst kept secret in the entire bunker. I'm going insane.
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Uzi fell in love with a proud himbo and they both know it. It's genuinely a miracle they didn't clue the audience in sooner.
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emelinstriker · 5 months
Text
Soundwave & Shockwave ♡ Be More Expressive
Second X Reader one-shot to be dropped. And guess who's just been told that her wisdom teeth need to be extracted. Fuck. :D
[TL;DR] You have stickers and art supplies. And two lovely victims.
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♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡
"There is nothing logical about what you are doing."
"Shush'up, Shocky- I'll have you know I'm great at drawing!" You sassily stated as you continued working on a little doodle on his shoulder pad. You drew it right in your science lover's field of view so he would also remember you were there. However, your body was in front of the drawing to make it a bit of a surprise. So for the last few minutes Shockwave was only able to stare at your butt. Not bad of a sight in his point of view (literally), but he was still curious.
"That's not what I was referring to."
"I know, I know... But then you'll have something that reminds you of our relationship! No worries, it's easy to wash off if you don't like the drawing in the end." The cyclops ex-vented, deeming your response as logical enough to please him.
"And... tadaaa! What do you think?" You moved aside so Shockwave could have a proper look at what you did to his shoulder pad.
You drew an adorable little piece of his and Soundwave's helms, as well as your head surrounded by a heart. Shockwave actually felt a little flattered by your artwork, and yet he decided to play off what he actually felt.
"It looks logical", he commented. You pouted at his response. Again, he found your human way of expressing yourself interesting.
"Be more expressive, damn'it!" Suddenly your gaze locked onto your little bag filled with your art supplies... including stickers and sticky notes. You had a grin on your face as you pulled out a package of stickers and took out a few. Once you had a few sticking to your hand, you turned to give your Conjunx a bright smile before leaning down and lightly slapping random colorful stickers all over his chassis. If Shockwave had a faceplate instead of one optic, he probably would've given you a confused pokerface mixed with internal screaming. But here he was, simply observing your actions out of curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
"Sticking sticky stickers, duh. Here," you started as you grabbed a sticky note and wrote something on it before aggressively sticking the note just above his optic. "You deserve a DUM sticker for that question, mister!" You pouted at him before slapping his frame with more stickers. You finally decided to stop when you emptied one whole sticker package, finishing by putting a little unicorn sticker on your own cheek for a little partner look. Leaning back to have a better overview of your newest masterpiece, you hummed in satisfaction. The scientist was covered in stickers that looked definitely odd on him, accompanied by a DUM sticker over his optic. Good thing the note was so much smaller than his optic because otherwise giving him a little kiss on it would've made it a bit harder. "I love you."
After giving him the little kiss as appreciation for his tolerance, a certain Intelligence Officer came into the lab, much to Shockwave's relief and your happiness. You frantically waved one arm around up high, leaning back against Shockwave's helm. "Hiya, Sounders!"
As he walked over to the two of you, his visor held the image of a smile until he was standing in front of you and the bigger mech. The ex-gladiator raised his servo up next to you and gently rubbed your cheek with a digit. A pixel heart appeared on his visor as he did so. You giggled at his affection, leaning into his digit's touch. "Aw, I love you too."
You glanced at Shockwave's sticker-covered frame and smirked mischivously, turning back to face your other Conjunx' visor. The heart instantly faded and got replace with a raised eyebrow emoticon. He didn't like that look on your face and decided to leave while he still could. So, he slowly pulled his digit away from you and took one step backwards.
"Hey Shocky," you started as you pulled out another package of stickers. "Wanna see me make Sounders suffer as well?" His ear fins perked up in delight. He was definitely amused by your suggestion.
"Equality only seems logical, sweetspark."
Shockwave approached the shorter mech, already armed with you in his servo. You were smirking, menacingly. The scientist held you out towards the TIC's chassis. And before said mech could escape by moving further back, there was already a unicorn sticker slapped onto him. Surprised by your swiftness, he looked down at his chassis. You caught him off-guard once more when he saw you had already drawn a little red heart on Laserbeak's left wing.
That's when he heard rather evil giggling coming from his right.
Oh scrap. You were now on his shoulder pad, doodling away with a line of stickers already trailing up from his chassis to the side of his helm.
You and Shockwave weren't exactly the sneakiest duo, so this greatly surprised him. Then again, he must've been in some form of trance in that moment. However, there wasn't much he could do to stop you now that you already marked him with your stickers and drawings. Well, more like he didn't have the spark to stop you. You have managed to basically capture him and he was being a good sport about it.
The scientist had already resumed working on the project you had interrupted earlier, calm relief visible in his posture. His sticker-covered frame turned to you one last time. "They are your artistic problem now, Soundwave. Do not bring them back until all their stickers and art supplies are gone from their possession." His right ear fin flicked upwards by a little, as if he was smirking at your other lover.
You laughed at his words while the masked mech showed a smiley on his visor as he nodded. Then he decided to walk out of the room with you still present on his shoulder, having your fun with your supplies.
Bonus:
Shockwave approached Megatron's location, ready to report his progress, when the warlord suddenly let out a chuckle. He couldn't even look the cyclops properly in the optic. The DUM sticker was too much of a funny distraction.
"I see. Soundwave wasn't the only victim affected by this... sticky situation."
His ear fins drooped at his master's discovery, unamused by the joke. That's when he looked behind the grey mech and noticed Soundwave completely covered in stickers and lovely drawings. He had more stickers on him than Shockwave, and yet still held a pixel heart on his visor as he used one digit to pat their shared organic Conjunx, who was still on his shoulder pad, on the head.
[ Masterlist ]
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quoththemaiden · 2 months
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@mrghostrat This is now the third time since December that I'm writing about your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems (1, 2). Please come collect them, because they're causing a disturbance.
Or, if you aren't able to wrangle them, then please enjoy this scene inspired by Chapter 10 of Big Name Feelings.
For everyone who hasn't already seen the top portion of this on Discord, know that this is set sometime after the con but before the big bang.
"I think your hair might be getting long enough to braid now."
Crowley's eyes snapped over to him. "Braid?"
Aziraphale blinked at the sharp question. "I didn't mean anything by it." He'd still never figured out quite where Crowley's gender identity lay, or if it changed day-by-day. He suspected Crowley's public presentation of his gender was either "whatever's simplest for everyone involved" (around people he didn't know but generally liked, like at the con) or "whatever causes the most problems for everyone involved" (like with a particularly annoying security guard that had left Aziraphale remembering that being middle-aged, white, and extremely stuffy in appearance was its own form of armor). Aziraphale's own perception of Crowley's gender was just "Crowley." What Crowley felt about it was something Aziraphale had never quite managed to parse out. "You can do whatever you like—"
"Do you know how?"
"How...?"
"To braid hair." Crowley's tone was oddly urgent. "Like for your nieces or cousins or—"
"—for crafting, yes. Tassels for bookmarks and such. You want me to—" Crowley practically flinging himself down onto the sofa next to him was answer enough. "Oh."
Crowley's hair really was barely long enough to braid, Aziraphale decided as he gently freed it from its elastic band. He ran his fingers through it slowly and carefully, easing out the light tangles from a day's confinement. Crowley slumped forward in boneless contentment, and Aziraphale had to switch to prickling the top of his scalp with his fingernails to get him to sit up straight enough for Aziraphale to work.
Aziraphale determined his gameplan, then, and gently eased up a few locks of hair at the crown of Crowley's head, smoothing down the top with the flat of his palm. He started working the strands into a French braid, taking it tiny piece by tiny piece to ensure every section was balanced in size. If Crowley were doing it himself, he suspected he'd get it done in just five messy joins, but every strand he brought in gave Aziraphale another excuse to run his fingertips along Crowley's scalp and he luxuriated in each opportunity. "Has anyone ever told you your hair is unreasonably thick?" he murmured, his voice huskier with fond affection than he'd intended. Crowley spared him from a tease by being too utterly sedated to manage more than a vague hum in response. Aziraphale smiled at that and kept his progress blissfully slow and methodical until he had no choice but to tie the braid off at the nape of Crowley's neck — half a French braid, half a ponytail made bushy from having had waves worked into it. He placed a soft kiss to the back of Crowley's head, padded by the thickest part of Crowley's braid and somehow all the more intimate for it. "All done, love."
Crowley leaned back against Aziraphale's chest, tilting back his head to look up at him with eyes made impossibly soft with contentment. "I'm never putting my own hair up again. Just hope you know that."
Aziraphale chuckled softly, just as fond. "I'll manage somehow, I suppose."
Crowley's boneless appreciation of the hair braiding had turned into boneless napping, and while Aziraphale enjoyed having Crowley fall asleep against him at certain times of day, he had never been one for naps himself and there was a limit to how long he could stay motionless sans entertainment before even he got antsy. He eased his way out from under Crowley, grateful the other man was a heavy sleeper even during the day, and was left deciding what quiet amusement he could pursue until whenever Crowley woke up and started making noises about dinner. He could always read some fanfics, of course, but his eyes couldn't help but be drawn towards his favorite muse.
His muse who had, he recalled, tempted him into joining a rigged bang and had talked him into getting a digital tablet. Aziraphale still planned to do his official art for it traditionally, because he was sure Crowley's writing would deserve no less... and, if he was allowed to be vain in the privacy of his own mind, because he still remembered the feeling he'd had when Crowley responded to his scans with barely coherent keysmashing. He wasn't in deferential awe of Crowley anymore, although he still loved his writing just as much, but part of him still hoped that Crowley might respond with just as much enthusiasm at getting to see the finished piece in person, textured paper and unprocessed colors and all. Well, assuming he could be gutsy enough to actually give it to him in person instead of just leaving it on the drafting table for him to find, which was really the more statistically likely result. But anyway.
But anyway.
His muse was sleeping in front of him, and a stylus on an iPad would make hardly any noise at all. And if he got good enough at using it, maybe he could draw some extra digital art to celebrate the fic as well.
In any case, sketching Crowley while he slept was one of life's little joys. He didn't think Crowley knew how often he did it, and that was probably for the best. If he did it all in his notebook, it would have been too easy for Crowley to flip through and find the sketches (and removing sheets would have felt damnably like a guilty conscience). With his iPad, however, he was safe to sketch as much as he liked and there was no real way for Crowley to stumble across it. Aziraphale willfully shoved aside the thought that that didn't really sound any less guilty and started setting stylus to screen. It wasn't long until he'd settled into a comfortable rhythm, his eyes flicking back and forth between the screen and where Crowley was lying face-down on the sofa, his new braid highlighted in a beam of afternoon sunlight.
Something Aziraphale did appreciate about digital art was that white could be layered on top of other colors and be shockingly vibrant, which wasn't an effect he could get easily with his beloved watercolors. Something else watercolors didn't give him was the ability to pick out very fine details, and as his sketch started coming together, he found that was exactly what he wanted to do now. While Crowley's hair was a vibrant red in his selfies or on stage, when he'd had the opportunity to run his fingers through every strand, he'd found that Crowley's hair was showing his age just as much as his own was.
The first day Aziraphale had found a grey hair had come as a shock. He'd naively assumed that with his hair being as pale as it was, even if it started greying, he might well never know. Instead, he found that the grey hairs' texture was frustratingly different from the strands that were still blond, and until they reached a critical mass fifteen long years later, they had an unfortunate tendency to stick out unattractively if his cut was anything less than perfect. He had become quite a regular at his barber's.
With Crowley's hair being as long as it was, his grey hairs had worked smoothly into his braid. From even the small distance from couch to armchair, they melded into the red strands perfectly... but Aziraphale had just spent long minutes twining them into neat twists and didn't need to see them now to know they were there. Aziraphale zoomed in close (another marked benefit of the digital display) and set his pen to a thin, sharp line, layering sleek silver strands into the red braid he'd drawn. Following the way they weaved around each other and dipped in and out of view felt delightfully meditative.
Eventually, Crowley made a soft snuffling snort-groan as he roused from his nap, slowly turning to unbury his face from the pillows. "Wha' time'zit?" he mumbled, patting around blindly for his cellphone.
"Coming up on 5:30 now," Aziraphale replied softly, trying not to startle him into full wakefulness too quickly. He rose and fetched Crowley's phone, placing it gently into his fumbling hand. "There you go."
"Mmrrr. Don't need it now." Crowley tucked the phone under his side in what Aziraphale would have guessed would be a very uncomfortable fashion but which Crowley did without even thinking. At least it wouldn't be going anywhere from there, Aziraphale supposed. "What're you doin'?" Crowley made grabby hands at the iPad Aziraphale had brought over with him.
Aziraphale handed over the iPad without even one thought, much less a second. "Oh, I was just waiting for you to wake up, really."
"...Angel." Crowley had zoomed out on the picture (with a completely unsurprising lack of propriety) and was now staring, frozen and much more awake, at the drawing of himself. "You aren't going to post this on Tumblr, are you?"
Aziraphale laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that, despite the ripple of shock Crowley's tense tone had caused him. "Come, now. When have I ever posted a drawing of you, my dear?"
"When have you ever made a drawing of me?" Crowley retorted. He waved vaguely at the screen, accidentally sparing Aziraphale from having to answer. "I don't mind being old, but I don't want the world knowing my boyfriend thinks I'm old." His frazzled waving turned a little more flaily.
"Crowley..." Aziraphale gently took the tablet back from him and set it down on the floor so he could take Crowley's hand in both of his. "I assure you, I'm not the kind of artist who spends my time drawing things I don't think are beautiful. And that includes every detail I put in."
Aziraphale would have hoped that was obvious, really. The strands of hair he had drawn weren't brittle grey; they were molten silver. They caught the light like a precious metal woven like a ribbon into cinnabar-red hair. Crowley could have been a queen, fallen asleep after a long day in her finery. He could have been a fae whose very essence was beauty, sleeping with no fear that it would be stolen away because it couldn't.
He could have been an ordinary man, who was so deeply, truly loved that even his grey hairs seemed to shine like the soft gleam of a newly-forged star when they caught the last strong beams of afternoon sunlight shining in through the windows.
Aziraphale hoped Crowley could see it, too.
Crowley made a grumpy noise. "I still don't want it on Tumblr. — Not that I can tell you what to do with your art, but—"
Aziraphale interrupted him with a warm smile. "I don't want it on Tumblr, either. I drew this just for me."
"...really? Even though...?"
"Just for me," Aziraphale whispered in confirmation, his eyes seeking out Crowley's and saving him from having to finish that sentence. "I've only ever drawn you for me." I love you to the point of creation, his heart sang. It wasn't quite how that quote went, he knew. It was the only way it had ever gone, for him.
"Hn..." Crowley shifted to look at the iPad where it lay down on the floor. "I suppose... Well. Despite the subject matter, you drew it well, at least."
"Well, thank you for that," Aziraphale jibed back lightly, completely devoid of malice.
"Ngh, you can't blame me for feeling self-conscious about my greys when you haven't got any."
Aziraphale let out a huff of a laugh. "Oh, Crowley."
"What?" Crowley looked defensive, then abruptly switched to looking shrewd. "Wait. Do you dye them??" He leaned forward eagerly, like this was taboo knowledge.
"Oh, where was that compliment two decades ago? No, not at all. Do you know how long I spent getting over feeling self-conscious about them, and now for you to not even realize I have them?"
"No way. You've been holding out on me!" Crowley's eyes had a light in them that Aziraphale had seen sometimes — the look of someone who has been wanting something very much and thinks he's just figured out how to get it. Aziraphale drew back instinctively in trepidation. He had no idea what Crowley could possibly be wanting, though a fluttering feeling in his chest suggested that it was, in some way, him.
Ridiculous. As if they hadn't had sex already.
"I'm going to go get dinner started."
Crowley let out a whine that cut off abruptly enough that Aziraphale suspected he actually hadn't intended to make it.
Aziraphale paused. "What?"
"Ehhh... just envious, s'all."
Aziraphale took a moment to muse about whether Crowley knew the difference between "envious" and "jealous" and decided, firmly, that he had faith that he did. "Of what?" he asked with an incredulous laugh, since he still had no idea what "envious" could possibly apply to here.
"Negghhh, you've gotten to play with my hair enough to know I have greys, and I haven't gotten to touch yours once."
Aziraphale blushed darkly at that, remembering some choice occasions in which Crowley had gripped his hair tightly enough to hurt. He cleared his throat and opted not to mention them. "That feels much more like your fault than mine."
"Just... tryin'a respect your boundaries, angel."
"Why would that be a boundary?" Aziraphale asked, baffled.
"I asked for it and you haven't."
Aziraphale didn't quite remember it that way, but it was a fair enough interpretation from Crowley's point of view, he supposed. "Well, no. It sounds perfectly nice, but I'd hate to bore you with it. I know you're much more fidgety than I am."
"Not bored," Crowley insisted, his eyes urgent. "Never bored when it's you, angel. Siddown."
Aziraphale laughed breathily. "Too late. I'm already up to cook dinner."
"Angel."
"You'll just have to wait," Aziraphale teased in a singsong lilt, casting a smile back at Crowley over his shoulder.
Crowley flung himself back on the couch with an impatient whine, leaving Aziraphale feeling very smug about his attempt at whatever the romantic equivalent of foreplay was. Crowley sounded very much like he was being left with blue balls. "Bastard."
"Only as much as you deserve, my dear," Aziraphale sang back as he went into the kitchen, acutely aware of Crowley's eyes following every step.
It wasn't really in question, at all, that Aziraphale would end the evening snuggled on the couch with Crowley's hands in his hair. There was also no question that he'd enjoy it thoroughly, and he also knew it wasn't the kind of thing that was likely to lead to anything more. So, instead, he just relaxed into it and let his thoughts drift.
"...do you really think I'd mind if my red fox turned into a silver fox?" he mused. The thought was languid, easy, relaxed. Crowley spluttered in incoherent surprise anyway, and Aziraphale laughed softly. "Yes, I know. There's a reason I'm not the writer of the pair."
"Y'are, though. Don't think I've forgotten that you are."
Aziraphale blushed a little at that. "Oh."
Crowley's hands resumed their meditative motion through Aziraphale's hair. "But... yeah. I'd rock it, wouldn't I?"
"You would," Aziraphale murmured with a smile. "And I'm quite looking forward to seeing it someday, my dear."
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fuumoksun · 2 months
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"To the dephts of your heart"
♡ content / warning : jealousy
♡ part of my "To the dephts of your heart" [fanfiction drafts]
♡ Interactive fanfiction : poll at the end
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As a representative from the Akademya working on negotiations between the nations of Fontaine and Sumeru, flirting with the Duke of the Meropide Forteress had been a thrilling distraction. The playful banter provided a much-needed break from the weight of your shared duties until a certain Scribe confessed his feelings for you...
"I understand if you need some space to think things through. Even though I tend to be persistent, I'll always respect your decision, no matter what it is."
Al Haitham's words left you in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Surprise mingled with disbelief as you processed the unexpected turn of events. After years of working around him you knew how cautious he was and he certainly didn't take the maters of love lightly.
Al Haitham had earned your utmost respect, particularly after the Sumeru crisis. The Scribe had left a lasting impact on you, and considering he had visited your dreams more than once, you couldn't deny that you cared about him.
On the other hand, within a few months, Wriothesley had managed to burrow deep into your thoughts, his presence becoming a constant, compelling force within your mind.
"Is this love... or?" You didn't knew what word to put on it anymore.
[...]
Love triangles are just a bunch of book fantasies... Or so you tried to convince yourself as you found yourself seated at a fancy terrace in Fontaine. On your left sat AlHaitham, while Wriothesley occupied the spot on your right.
The arrival of the waiter, bearing your coffee, offered a brief respite from the discomfort. Grateful for the interruption, you thanked him quietly.
The tension in the air was palpable. As the awkward silence stretched on, you couldn't help but mutter to yourself,
"No way... This can't be happening."
"Sugar, honney?" The Duke's voice was almost a whisper, catching you off guard.
"W-what?" You blinked, unsure of what he was getting at, your eyes catching a flicker of a frown on Al Haitham's face.
"Do you..."the Duke asked again, "... prefer sugar or honey in your coffee today?" he punctuated his question with a charming smile, leaning towards you to open the porcelain sugar holder.
Realization dawned, and you flushed with embarrassment, desperately wishing for the traveler to come back so you'd be out of this torture.
"Oh, uh... yeah. S-sugar is fine," you mumbled, turning your face away, as his knee brushed yours under the table. Usually you wouldn't mind his playful gestures and you couldn't blame him for acting like he always had around you, since he didn't know about last night's confession.
Al Haitham glanced up from his book, his gaze cool and collected. "I'm afraid, I have nothing interesting to share right now."
A moment passed before, Al Haitham pulled a book from his pocket, making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of engaging in conversation with either of you.
Wriothesley's eyes shifted back and forth between you and the tall man behind the book, a silent challenge brewing in the air.
He couldn't resist the opportunity to provoke a reaction just to make sure his intuition was right. "Ah, retreating into literature again ? I was looking forward to have some time with you... both."
A smirk tugged at Wriothesley's lips as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Really? Then tell me more about yourself... I must admit, I'm quite curious since Y/n speaks so highly of you... "
Al Haitham turned a page not sparring his rival a glance, "Well that will give you something to investigate about during your free time." His eyes locked into mine for a second, "It seems you have plenty after all."
"Nevermind then. Digging into peoples lives for personnal interrest is not really my thing..."
If you had any doubts about how much Al Haitham knew about your flirtations with the Duke, they vanished in that moment. It was clear he confessed even thought he knew you spent the last nights at the Forteress.
Accross the table, Wriothesley had the answer he wanted. He sipped his tea, with a bitter sweet satisfaction, retreating into his own thoughts.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, a feeling of guilt bubbling in your stomach.
[...]
"Al Haitham! Wriothesley! Y/n! We're back!" Paimon's voice reverberated, dispelling your cloud of negative thoughts.
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Without another word exchanged the three of you parted ways returning to your duties for the rest of the day.
It was now, you against your thoughts and what seemed to be an impossible decision...
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2024 © fuumoksun Do not, copy , translate, plagiarize or post on other plateforms. Thank you.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 month
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This Is Where You Stand With Me (part 2)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: none
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Part 1 here
Y/N's POV
"Hola madre!" I say jokingly as my mother answered the phone.
"Too much influence from Sophie's boyfriend or what?" She chuckles.
"Yeah, something like that." I laugh adjusting myself on the couch. "How are you? What's new?" I ask.
"Nothing much, I'm just going back home from work. What's up with you?"
"I'm enjoying my day off from work." I say biting my lip not sure how's she going to react to my new "job" which I haven't told her about yet. But I'm certain she's not going to be thrilled about it.
"What do you mean y/n? What work?" As soon as she says "Y/N" I know there's no joking anymore.
"Well," I take a deep breath before I continue. "First of all, don't freak out, it's only my temporary job, you know while I'm here in Monaco with Sophie. And second of all, I started working for Ferrari practically. I'm managing their social media."
"Explain it a bit better, please. What does that mean?" She asks confused.
"Basically, I'm spending a lot of time with their drivers. I'm filming them for social media, like when they're getting ready for the race, asking them some questions, filming behind the scenes like what happens before the race, filming them training and stuff like that you know. And I edit those videos and then post them." I try to explain to her as simply as possible. but my mom, like most others, is not on the internet, she is not interested in the world of social media and probably still does not understand why anyone would be interested in any of this.
"So who are you filming then? Sophie's boyfriend and?"
"Carlos and Charles." As I say his name my mind wanders briefly to Charles and the grand prix from last weekend. I wonder how he is, and if he talked to Ava. and what happened between them afterwards. I also wonder if he has already thrown somewhere the bracelet I gave him. As I've already said, you just never know with him.
"Y/n?" My mom's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Sorry my thoughts wandered for a moment. What did you ask?"
"I asked if you are satisfied with that job? Are you treated well? What are those boys like?" Like any mother, she worriedly asks a million questions and I, like any other daughter, of course, will not tell her everything in detail.
I have always been close to my mother, but I never liked to share every detail of my life with her, even though she wanted to know it. But I just wasn't comfortable with her knowing all my private things. I believe that you can be close to your mother, without her being involved in all your decisions, attitudes and thoughts. We talk more or less about everything, but I have set some boundaries for myself about what I want to share with her and I think that's exactly why we have a relatively good and healthy relationship.
"Yeah, I mean it's not something I'll do forever, it's just a temporary type of thing, so while I'm here I might as well earn some money." I say. "And everybody's nice to me, of course, I already told you that Carlos is a wonderful person and boyfriend to Sophie, and Charles..He's not so bad either."
"You don't sound so convincing with the other one." She says referring to Charles.
"Don't worry really, both of them are very nice, it's just that I don't know Charles very well yet and I haven't spent much time with him so I can't say much about him." I say honestly.
While talking to her on the phone, I get up and head to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. While walking to the kitchen, I pass by the mirror and almost get scared when I see what I look like. Shaggy hair in a bun, without a hint of makeup, braless in an extra-large t-shirt with a print of Los Pollos Hermanos that also serves as my nightgown and house slippers on my feet. I guess I'm not one of those ex girlfriends that has a glow up after a breakup, but oh well.
"Well, as long as you're happy and safe, I'm fine with it." My mom says. "And besides, I think it's good for you that you left Manchester for a bit. Stay as long as you want."
"Really?" I am a bit taken aback and surprised by her words. "How come you think so?" I ask while waiting for coffee to be poured from the machine into the cup.
"I-I.." Just as she was about to say something the doorbell rings. Sophie went to lunch with Carlos, I doubt they forgot their keys.
"Mom, there's someone at the door, I'll have to call you a little later, okay?"
"Okay, we'll talk later, bye." She says and I hung up the phone.
I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and just as I'm about to go into the hallway to open the door, I accidentally pull the cup with my hand and spill hot coffee on my right thigh.
"Ouchh!" I almost scream in pain while the hot coffee continues to pour down my leg. "Fuck!!" My eyes get watery from the pain and stinging. Cursing my clumsiness I grab a cloth and wipe my thigh which is burning more and more and the doorbell keeps ringing. I go and open the front door when none other than Charles is standing leaning against the door frame.
"Charles, what are you doing here?" I ask with a sniff. I don't open the door all the way, but just peek out with my head. The last thing I needed is him here while I'm crying over my coffee burn and looking like I got mowed by a tornado.
"Y/n, are you alright? Why are you crying?" He asks, his expression immediately turned serious as he tries to enter.
"I just spilled hot coffee on myself. Please don't come in.." I really don't want him to see me like this.
"Let me help you." He says ignoring me and coming in anyway closing the door behind him.
"No, Charles..I-I'll be fine." I say pulling my t-shirt down with one hand and still holding the cloth with the other one.
"Let me see." He bends down and removes my hand with which I'm holding the cloth. "You got burned well." He says.
"Yeah, I can feel it. It hurts pretty bad."
"Come here." He waves his hand for me to follow him into the bathroom. It seems like he has already been in this apartment before. They probably had some gathering at Sophie's, so he knows where everything is.
"Sit there." He says pointing to the tub as he takes a small towel from the shelf under the sink and soaks it in cold water. I briefly feel a sense of relief as he kneels down in front of me and places a wet towel over my burn.
"You know, I really appreciate your help, but I feel terribly uncomfortable-"
"Yeah, I already saw that you don't have a bra on." He cuts me off and my cheeks instantly get as red as the burn on my thigh.
"You don't have to point it out like that.." I can't help but chuckle a little at his nonchalant response.
"You really do have to stop embarrassing yourself in front of me." He laughs.
"Why did you come here in the first place?" I ask shaking my head.
"I'm here to pick up Carlos. We agreed to go to the gym together, and he said he would be at Sophie's." He says taking the towel off my thigh and soaking it again. "So here I am. Where are the two of them anyway?"
"They went out for lunch. I think they should be back any minute now since they've been gone for a while." As he comes back with the cold towel I notice that he's wearing the red bracelet I gave him last weekend. He puts the towel over my thigh again and gently presses it.
"And what are you doing alone in the apartment, except destroying it?" I really like this funny side of Charles. For I moment I wished he could be like this all the time.
"Certainly not waiting for you." I playfully answer back.
"Yeah, sure you aren't." He says confidently and I roll my eyes at him. "I'm going to clean up that coffee you spilled on the floor." You can see the kitchen from the bathroom, so he definitely made sure I knew that he saw the mess I made.
While Charles is cleaning up in the kitchen, I quickly go to my room and put on shorts and a bra under my t shirt. Since he's already seen me at my worst, I decide not to fix my hair but to leave it messy like this. It's already too late now to look presentable anyway.
"Have you put on a bra yet?" He asks shamelessly as I enter the kitchen.
"Has anyone ever told you that you can be very inappropriate?" I honestly ask him.
"Quite rude thing to say to someone who just helped you."
"Thank you. Charles. For your generous help." I say slightly sarcastically through gritted teeth. "Do you want me to check when they're coming back?"
"Why? Can't wait to get rid of me?"
"No." I roll my eyes. "I'm just asking if you're in a hurry."
"I'm not. I'll wait for him. I hope they'll be back soon." He says taking a seat on the high chair at the kitchen island.
"Do you want something to drink while you wait?"
"A glass of water will do."
I reach for a glass from the top kitchen unit and in the process I scratch the injured thigh on the handle of the lower element. I wince in pain and curse under my breath.
"Be careful, where is your towel?" Charles asks me getting up from the chair. Before I can say I left it on the tub, he's already back from the bathroom with it. "Sit there." He almost orders me and I do it obediently while he soaks the towel again in the kitchen sink. He moves my hand from my thigh and puts the wet towel over it.
I don't know why, but I decide not to tell him that I can do it myself. And he doesn't say it either but proceeds to hold his hand a little longer over the cold compress looking down at it and gently pressing on it. I lift up my head to look up at him and for a second we lock our eyes together without saying a word.
"I-I.." In a moment of nervousness I wanted to say something just to break the silence, but luckily I hear the front door open. Charles quickly moves his hand away and goes to the opposite side of the kitchen island clearing his throat.
"Hello..guys..?" Sophie says as Carlos and her enter the kitchen looking very confused at the scene before them.
part 3
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factual-fantasy · 8 months
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@octonauts16 (Post in question) TLDR at the bottom!😅
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Yeah, that was Wally <XD I doodled that on the screen while kind'a forgetting all the stuff I've talked about Welcome Home recently. How I don't wanna join the fandom and such..
But to be honest I've been kind'a torn on Welcome home over the past few days. I recently developed 3 big main reasons why I don't want to join the fandom and draw the characters. But those reasons are quickly starting to dissolve-
Reason #1. Now I don't know if I just saw the wrong side of the fandom, but it felt like everywhere I went there was shipping content. Cannon or not, it was everywhere. And of course I'm known for not liking ships or really drawing any lovey dovey content.. I was worried enough about people tagging all of my Welcome Home art as shipping, that I figured I'd save myself the trouble and just.. not post any art of it all together.
But then I thought about it.. I mean, Undertale was a huge shipping fandom too. And I was able to weasel my way around all of that and come out unscathed. Surly the Welcome Home shipping fandom wouldn't be much harder to navigate.. right?
Reason #2. I wasn't really sure.. what to draw exactly. Everyone seems to have their own interpretation for the story of Welcome Home. Wally's the Bad guy, no House is the bad guy and he's controlling Wally, no no Wally and House are both the bad guys together. Their world is real- no actually its all make believe and Wally is the only one who knows its fake- aaaa so many stories!
I felt like it would take a lot of work and research to make my own version/interpretation of the story and the characters. So I just dropped it and didn't want to bother. I'm still so busy...
...But then its like 4 AM and I have ideas for redesigns of every character, a story is being constructed, angsty situations are being plotted, lore is growing- I hardly know much about Welcome Home truly, yet I already have a whole world built that I wanna start drawing-
But! Its reason #3 that's kept me from drawing anything. Clown, the series creator.
Looking around the fandom.. It seems that Clown is like me. They have certain boundaries when it comes to their characters and what they do and do not approve of others drawing about it. I know about the copywrite issues they're dealing with.. people selling merch of their characters and profiting.. its really sad. But there's more to it.
I saw some artwork for Welcome home and went to the comments. Everyone was like "I'm so glad to finally find an artist that respects Clowns boundaries!" And I'm like uh oh- are people drawing things that make Clown uncomfortable? Has Clown been dealing with that? What are those boundaries? Is anything I would like to draw something that would cross said boundaries?
So out of laziness to not dig deeper to find these boundaries, but also wanting to RESPECT said boundaries.. I just cut off any artwork from being made all together.
But my interest in this series is definitely getting stronger. And maybe sometime after these projects are finally off my chest, I'll look into Clown and see if any of my artwork would cross a line..
For now I'm too lazy, and too busy to make any artwork for Welcome Home <XDDD Maybe someday though!
TLDR; The #1 reason why I haven't drawn Welcome Home fanart is because I think Clown has certain boundaries when it comes to fanart. And I don't know what they are, I am also too lazy to look into it. So I just decided to not draw anything at all until further notice <XDD
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primus-why · 11 months
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What if TFP Megatron hadn't fumbled the bag during the Orion Pax arc...?
Like, imagine we get that scene where Orion is all "Why does this computer refer to me as Optimus Prime? Who... am I?" And instead of Megs being all "Grr, you're just my clerk, nothing more." He was... actually sort of honest?
Like obviously not 100% honest, let's be real here he's got his own agenda. But I'll bet Orion wouldn't have tried to delete his data if he had gotten an actually satisfying answer!!
For example what if it had been like:
Orion: I must know-- who... am I?
Megatron: ... *sigh* I'm not so sure I know the answer myself, Orion. This situation... it's complicated.
Orion: Then perhaps you might help me regain the memories I have lost? You explained what became of Cybertron, but I have yet to learn what has happened to me--
Megatron: -- It would have been too much! So many years lost, so much change to take in... I didn't want to overwhelm you!
Orion: I know, and I appreciate your consideration... however, these questions have been distracting me from my work...
Megatron: ... Very well. Come.
They settle down on some nook with a window. Orion's optics are glued to Megatron, while Megatron looks out said window for a beat before turning to face Orion.
Megatron: What do you remember, before I found you in those tunnels and brought you onto my ship?
Orion: I... *shifting uncomfortably* it's difficult to recall, but I believe my last memory was of us... fighting.
Megatron: Fighting?
Privately, Megatron is concerned Orion might be recalling a battle. He watches the other mech closely for his next words-- is the jig up already..?
Orion: Yes... we were arguing after the Council meeting, though I can't recall what for...
Megatron visibly relaxes a bit.
Megatron: Ah... that. Yes, I remember that day.
Orion: I had miscalculated, and my error upset you. We parted on bad terms.
Megatron: Oh, my dear Orion, that's long in the past! I hardly think back to our quarrel...
Megatron gently takes Orion's servo into his own, idly rubbing a thumb over his digits as if lost in a memory.
Megatron: Actually... your absence gave me clarity-- once I learned you were gone, I immediately realized that I missed you... regardless of what had transpired. And it hurt my spark to know we would never see each other again-- though, that turned out to not exactly be the case...
Orion is staring intensely now. He is afraid of the answer, but knows he must press on.
Orion: Megatron... what happened to me?
Megatron: After that Council meeting... you were taken.
Orion: Taken? By who??
Megatron stops rubbing Orion's servo, squeezing it instead.
Megatron: ... The Autobots, but I didn't know it at the time. I was informed you hadn't reported for work in a while. For a deca-cycle, in fact, which didn't seem like you. I tried to com, but was having no luck-- then Intel couldn't find evidence that you had even made it home after the meeting. Upon further investigation, we learned you were snatched off the street some time after we had parted ways. I knew then something bad had happened to you, but I didn't know who was responsible. Not until I saw you again... only it wasn't you--
Orion Pax: -- It was Optimus Prime.
Megatron: Yes.
Orion Pax: But... how? How could I be a Prime? I'm just an archivist-- was just an archivist... and why me?
Megatron: I'm sure you've noticed the change in your chassis. Well... we believe the Autobot warlord Ratchet used his vast medical knowledge to perform experiments on you, which allowed your body to carry the Matrix. As to why he chose you... I'm certain it was to derail our revolution efforts. It had been personal blow, seeing you change sides...
Orion: How could I abandon the cause? Did I not recognize you anymore?
Megatron: You recognized me, but you did not know me. When the Autobots declared war, Optimus Prime would charge in, always on the front line. I was one of the few fighters who could hold my own against him, and by far the best chance we had to get you to come back to your senses... but I could never reach you.
Orion removes his servo from Megatron's, instead balling it into a fist on his leg. He looks away as well to take in a steadying vent, then another... when he finds his voice again, it is soft-- but he needs to know...
Orion: ... Was it mnemosurgery?
Megatron responds equally as soft.
Megatron: For vorns, I thought that was the case. However we'd didn't find any evidence of it during your medical examination.
Orion's optics snap back to Megatron's.
Orion: Then how?! I--
Megatron: -- It seems your memory loss had something to do with the Matrix. We could test that theory, of course, but nothing would move forward without your consent, Orion. You understand?
Orion: Yes, thank you. I will consider it. And thank you again for taking the time to enlighten me. I am... sorry to have caused you all so much pain...
Megatron: Don't dwell on the darkness of the past when tomorrow promises a brighter future, my friend.
Orion: Mm... how can you be so sure? We are far from home, and the war rages on.
Megatron: Because I was able to finally reunite with someone I had thought to be lost forever. Anything seems possible to me now, even victory after all this time.
Orion blushes slightly as Megatron gets up to leave.
Megatron: I must go attend to my duties on the bridge. Would you like to join me for fuel in my quarters? Say, in the next few groons?
Orion: I would like that, very much.
As he watches Megatron depart, Orion privately wonders just what "victory" would look like, given their home has been destroyed. To what end do we fight? Perhaps I shall ask Megatron to elaborate on his vision of the future after our shifts...
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within-your-eyes-if · 5 months
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A Few Updates
Hello everyone!
I have some exciting news and a few thoughts I want to share. Another long update, I'm sorry!
Codex Update: As you know, I've been working on updating the Codex. I've put a lot of thought into each entry, balancing new ideas with existing lore. While a lot of elements were already established, delving deeper into some topics has inspired some new ideas, and I want to ensure everything fits seamlessly. With this in mind, I'm considering releasing what I have so far while I continue to ponder over some of these newer concepts and refine older ones. In the next few days, I'll be going through more feedback to address some issues found before I plan to release the update.
New Story: I'm excited to share I've released a prologue and first chapter for From Here to Again! Writing something different is meant to help me grow as a writer and expand upon things I might not have considered before, especially when writing Twine.
I will not be making a Tumblr for this story right now, sorry!
I know I've shared other stories that I planned, and here are some updates on those:
Nautical Lost would definitely benefit from a later release as Within Your Eyes grows, as this story will expand upon the world lore and some events that will happen.
The Innkeeper (a working title), I decided to hold off on because I'm terrible at management games, it seems. It was meant to be a fun little story with shenanigans. However, I do want to revisit the idea later.
Short Stories: I've expressed I want to make some short stories, but I feel like there's a point in WYE I want to pass first before getting into them. But I do have one I'm working on that I want to release alongside Part Two that delves into the past.
Worries About Burnout: I know some of you are/might be worried about burnout, but I feel like I have a good system for myself. Writing is a journey I haven't explored much before. I did write, but it's something I didn't think I was good at because, honestly, I was told I wasn't. I know I'm not the greatest, but I want to grow and learn as a writer. I've been taking breaks to focus on other things I enjoy, even if it's still writing out ideas for other stories.
I appreciate all of the concern in this regard, not just for my well-being, but also for the love of my story. To see it abandoned would be heartbreaking not just for my readers, but for me as well. 'Within Your Eyes' has been an idea long in the making, shifting and growing. It's something I've always wanted to share, and I'm so happy I have!
Time for Questions: I'm ready to start answering some of your questions regarding Part One. Enough time has passed, I believe, to start delving into these. To respect those who haven't caught up yet, I'll include any spoilers under a 'Read More' tag. However, be mindful that some questions themselves might contain spoilers.
Regarding certain asks/scenarios, I think that discovering the answers through the story rather than in a post might be more rewarding. While I may still respond to these, I'll be thoughtful about placing them under a 'Read More' tag as well.
Regardless, I've been thinking more about how I should approach questions, not only in a way that's satisfying to you, but also benefits the story.
Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the long update. I've been very reflective after releasing a second story, and I hope no one sees this as me diverting from WYE. I'm grateful for every one of you and for all of your words of encouragement and love. I hope you enjoy From Here to Again (if you decide to check it out) and continue to look forward to our Warden's journey.
Thank you!
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swanimagines · 2 years
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Could I request morpheus finding his wife after imprisonment in the mortal realm maybe she left to keep watch of the dreams that left the dreaming and is living as a mortal (maybe has a job at a bookstore). Morpheus gets slightly possessive and protective (you're my wife you belong in the dreaming where you're safe) and maybe gets a little jealous of a human friend she made. Ends with them goung back to the dreaming. I kinda imagine a grumpy x sunshine vibe. it can be fluffy slightly-angsty or even more of a funnier side up to you either way I'll read it
Also I say wife and fem-terms but I don't mind it being made gender neutral if you prefer
Thank you for your time and effort I look forward to more amazing content ✨️ 💕
Fandom: The Sandman
A/N: I made her as female because the thing in these is that when you use certain pronouns and say that she's his wife etc when requesting, I can't help but mentally adapt it onto the fic = I might accidentally use womanly stuff even if I'm trying to write it gn = I might get hate for it (it has happened before and it was quite a show last time which ended in a big drama and I lost a lot of followers for that and I definitely don't want it to happen again). Saying because I know someone might think I'm avoiding gn the best I can and attack me for it if I don't say anything. (And clarifying that I don't think it's your fault, it's just one of my oddities and I apologize for that, and yeah I have to admit that I prefer writing fem reader because at least then I know I won't make mistakes that would cause drama, but I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible with my abilities so I also write gn)
Word count: 1.4k
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When your husband disappeared, the whole Dreaming had gone crazy. People were worried about him first - then frustrated, and then they started to flee. You and Lucienne tried to tell them to stay and questioned if they'd really believe Morpheus would abandon his kingdom and all of its people like that.
"It has happened before," Afsaix grumbled as he packed his bags with everything he owned. "There's no telling when he'll return."
You grabbed the faun's arm and made him look at you. "He will come back! I know it!" Your words came out more desperate than you intended.
Lucienne watched the scene from the door, sighing as yet another resident of The Dreaming was about to leave.
The faun ripped his arm from your grip, closing his bag. "Don't be ridiculous, he's been gone for what, over 30 years? My house is in crumbles, I have nothing here anymore… We need to find somewhere new," he said quietly but firmly. He shook himself as if your hands had given him fleas and left.
"Lucienne, we have to stop this!" you pleaded with the only person who was just as confident of Morpheus returning as you were.
"I'm afraid there's little to do other than wait. Once Lord Morpheus comes back, we can work on restoring all this, but until then, we can only wait." She sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly.
You nodded in defeat, knowing she's right. Then your eyes widened, only now realising where the dreams are going.
"Lucienne, they're going to The Waking World, which means that someone has to guard them," you told your friend desperately. "I have to go there and guard their doings. They can cause a lot of damage in there."
"I understand your concern, my lady, but are you certain you're ready to take such a large job on you?" Lucienne asked kindly.
You nodded again. "I have to, it's my responsibility while my husband is away. I will make sure everything remains safe." You bit your lip before you briefly hugged her. "And you, keep people who decide to stay safe here."
"I will do my best, my lady."
***
You had settled in a little town and began working at a little bookshop around the corner with a nice woman living upstairs, secretly keeping an eye on dreams and nightmares that had escaped here. Most dreams settled just fine, living a peaceful life. But you sensed they felt like they didn't completely fit in this world, which was true, and you were sure they'd come back once Morpheus would return.
A hand was laid on your shoulder, and you smiled at your friend - Michael, a young man, barely 18, and you had persuaded Mrs. Brooks give him his first job.
"What is it?" you asked gently, and Michael gestured at one of the shelves with an elderly woman.
"She's trying to find a book that she read as a child, she doesn't seem to understand we don't have so old books."
"Oh dear," you sighed as you walked up to her.
The woman stared blankly into space, repeating "I need that storybook," over and over again.
You whipped your hand, a book appearing in your hand. "This one?" You held out the book, and her eyes lit up when she saw the title.
"Oh! Exactly that one, the young man over there said that you don't have it."
"Michael is new, and this is our last edition. Do forgive him."
The woman came to the desk, tightly holding onto the book and gave you a generous amount of money, way too much for it. "Keep the change, you just made an old woman's year." She patted your cheek kindly before leaving with the precious book.
You smiled after her, Michael blinking.
"How do you do that?" he asked.
"Do what? Make people happy?"
"No! The thing that you know exactly what they're looking for without them telling you, and then you just have it in your hands the next moment." He frowned thoughtfully.
You chuckled softly, putting your hand on his shoulder. "I guess I just am good at reading humans. But Michael, would you be a dear and go unload a box of books that arrived this morning? I have to order another box for next week."
"Of course, right away," Michael replied eagerly, going back to work. You went behind the counter and got to work yourself, barely hearing a tingle of the door bell as the door opened. You heard steps and saw someone stopping to stand between the shelves.
"I'll be with you in a moment," you called out. The person didn't answer, but stood still which you found a little weird and finally looked up. Your breath hitched when you met his gaze.
He stood there in his black coat and a small smile playing on his lips, and you couldn't help but feel something stir inside your chest. It was like butterflies were flying around in there, as if you saw him for the first time - and it kind of was, first time in over a century. "Morpheus!" you breathed happily.
"My love." His voice whispered as you circled the counter and ran to him. You crushed against him with all the strength left in your body - his smell filled your nose, the warmth of his coat embracing you. Then he pulled away slightly, searching your eyes.
"Where have you been?" You asked urgently. "I've missed you so much."
"I was imprisoned, my sweet," he told you sadly, cupping your face tenderly. "I was kept away because of people's selfishness and greediness."
You kissed him then, relieved that he's returned safe and sound. Then you heard someone clear their throat and broke away, looking at Michael frowning at the two of you. Morpheus frowned back at him, but you just smiled.
"Michael, can I introduce you to my husband?" You laughed lightly before gesturing the boy closer.
"Oh! So this is your husband, he returned from his trip then? Pleasure to meet you, I'm Michael." he extended his hand to Morpheus, but he didn't shake it, just glared at him and Michael retreated his hand. "Right. Um, do excuse me." He cleared his throat again nervously and walked back to the storage room.
You frowned at Morpheus after Michael had closed the door after him "Why did you do that for? He tried to be nice."
"Humans are not nice. They are full of themselves, thinking they are better than everyone else. People who kept me prisoner showed me how humans truly are." Morpheus sighed heavily, and you rolled your eyes.
"You're jealous." He didn't reply, but his expression confirmed it. "You have no reason to."
"We will go back to The Dreaming now." he muttered, turning towards the door, but stopping as he saw you had no intention to follow him.
"Morpheus, I have to take care of the shop first."
He sighed, lifting his chin up. "No, you are my wife, you belong in The Dreaming with me, where you are safe. You do not belong here among mortals."
"I didn't mean I'm staying here for good," you said with a small laugh. "I just have to arrange things so I won't leave anyone in trouble."
"You worry too much," he murmured, leaning down and kissing your forehead tenderly. His hands stroked your cheeks softly and looked around the little bookshop. "This is... nice looking."
"Well, not as nice as the library at the palace, but it's a cute little shop." you grinned, taking in your surroundings. This building had been your workplace for over a century, it had gone for so long that you pretended to be the great-granddaughter of your first self, but you always knew there would be an end for it. You had told Mrs. Brooks when you started working that you'd quit once your husband returns from overseas from his "business trip" and one of your employment conditions were that you have the right to quit on the spot if you wished. She had been fine with it, she had a bunch of people who were willing to do part-time job there in case they were in need of a new employee - her friends who had already retired, if you had gotten it right.
So you squeezed your husband's hand and made your way upstairs to tell Mrs. Brooks that it had come your time to leave, and after hugging Michael and getting a box of cookies from Mrs. Brooks and her wife, you took off with Morpheus, back to The Dreaming.
Back to home.
---
The Sandman taglist: @jesllianaquilesrolon // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!
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only-angel-28 · 8 months
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1999, part four - final part!
oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡
lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!
warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing
1999, part one
1999, part two
1999, part three
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༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
conrad’s pov
Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.
No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.
Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.
I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.
Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.
The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.
"Here." I pass it to her.
Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.
"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."
Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.
"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.
"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."
Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.
"I don't care.”
The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.
She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.
The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.
“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."
Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.
"Yeah?"
I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"
"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.
I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.
Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.
"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.
"Why?"
She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."
I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.
She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.
The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.
"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.
"How?"
"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.
I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"
She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."
I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."
"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.
"I'm absolutely terrified."
"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.
Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.
"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.
She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.
Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"
The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.
Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.
The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.
"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.
The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."
Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.
Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.
The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.
"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."
The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.
Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.
"You find this funny?"
She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."
"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."
"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.
"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.
"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.
Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.
“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.
I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”
God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.
She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.
“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.
I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”
She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.
"What’s wrong?”
She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"
My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.
"You're afraid of needles?"
She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."
“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."
“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”
I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.
"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.
*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.
Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.
"I'm joking.”
She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"
Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.
“Did you just laugh?”
"No."
“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.
“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."
Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."
"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.
Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.
That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.
The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."
Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."
I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."
The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."
"Please don't encourage her."
The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.
“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her
"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.
Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"
"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.
"Okay..." the doctor says.
Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?
You hate it when she cries.
You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.
You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.
The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.
Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."
"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."
"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.
I grab it from her and fill it out.
She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."
That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.
As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.
It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.
You’re in love with her.
Fuck.
                ༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
y/n’s pov
We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.
“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.
Comfortable silence is so overrated.
I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.
“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.
Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”
His restlessness gets me more agitated.
“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.
“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.
Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.
I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.
I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.
“Hey.”
Steven. Thank God.
“Steve…” I say sniffling.
He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.
“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”
I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”
Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.
“He really cares about you, you know.”
“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.
I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.”
“Oh. That’s not too bad.”
“No it’s not.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”
Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”
After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.
I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.
I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.
Or should I say someone.
“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.
He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.
“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.
“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.
God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.
“Why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”
“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.
“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”
“No way.”
“Nine then.”
“Five.”
“Eight and a half.”
“Six.”
“Seven.”
I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.
“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”
“How about seven words then?”
I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I am falling in love with you.”
I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.
Absolutely no fucking way.
Right?
I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.
"You're joking.
"I'm not."
"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.
"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."
"You're lying."
His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."
"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.
"Because I did it for you."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."
Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.
What can I possibly say that could compare to that?
Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.
I nod.
"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."
If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.
I take a deep breath.
Remember what he did.
“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"
"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."
"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"
He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.
"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."
"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."
"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.
"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.
My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.
“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."
How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?
A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.
I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.
"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."
This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.
"Your logic is half-baked at best."
"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."
His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."
"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."
"He’s obligated to."
"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."
He takes a deep breath. "You're right."
I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."
He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."
I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”
"Tell me what's stopping you."
"You don't do relationships."
“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."
I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”
“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.
"Do you always have an answer for everything?"
"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.
Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.
You might get hurt.
I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.
I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.
He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.
I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."
He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.
Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.
I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.
He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.
                ༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...
anyways, onto the next one😍🙏
again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!
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tblsomedoodles · 2 months
Note
I
C R A V E
more Donnie VS The World content. It makes me vibrate and scream and wiggle like I'm off my meds. I would love anything, even a solid block of text, but your doodles/full artworks/comics are my favorite.
Please? All I've found so far is what we see in the donnieverse comic and the MVA/AMV (music video animatic/animatic music video). So many questions, like - is Casey (Sr) involved in any way, whethercas a fellow captive or rescue mission teammate? Is this the True Apocalypse or Averted Apocalypse timeline? If the latter, where is Casey (Jr)? How is Splinter handling it? (Is he even still alive to be Having Emotions About It?)
(Please feed me.
B L E A S E)
(If you don't mind, could you show/tell how Donnie escapes, one of his first Big Leads that gives him so much hope he cries, and/or the Big Reunion? One would be nice, two would be great, and all three would be amazing. If they aren't planned/are too spoilery, that's okay. Anything you can/are willing to give would be lovely.)
Thank you!! I'm glad you like it : ) I don't think I've answered many asked about this particular au, so i'm more than willing to talk about it! : )
I don't really have much up for it, mostly b/c it deals with a lot of angsty material that i can be a little uneasy about posting. I have a bit of old concept art, and an unposted fic i'm editing/rewriting (b/c it's the first fic i wrote for Rise and i did not have those character voices down lol.) I can probably post the first bits of it later this week. I did say at one point that i would once 'proud family tradition' was over, and it now is.
but yeah, here's the concept art, i'll put the explanation under the break b/c i'm going to be rambling lol.
Tumblr media
So Donnie vs. takes place after the thwarted apocalypse (not-apocalypse future). They get taken by Bishop a few months afterwards, and it isn't until about a year after that, that Donnie gets free.
He's the last one still with Bishop at that point, and had been told/convinced through various means that his brothers were dead.
Bishop did a lot of experiments on him, leaving a lot of scaring. One of which was injecting him with Krang DNA to see what would happen. (the eye and veins thing. I think he has some side effects from that but i'm not entirely certain what they are atm)
The fic itself starts after his rescue, b/c i'm focusing on Donnie's search for his brothers (and his own recovery) Rather than the traumatic event itself.
The rescue itself, was certainly a rescue. April, Casey, and CJ worked together to get him out of there as well as gain whatever information they could before they were found out. (Casey went undercover and was able to get some incomplete files and help get donnie out before she was discovered and had to leave.)
donnies in...pretty bad shape at that point, mentally and physically. Physically, he's malnurished, injured, scared, the works. Bishop did a number on him in the year he had him.
Mentally, he's pretty much shut down. He's completely non-verbal, unresponsive most of the time, when he does respond it's very slow and seemingly difficult for him to do so. He describes it that it feels like he's behind several plates of thick glass. He can see and hear what's happening, interacting (or even just feeling anything about it) is very hard to get past the glass.
How he goes from that state to hunting down his brothers is fairly simple. One of the broken, encripted files Casey acquired was Leo's file. None of the three could open it, but they managed to get Donnie to try to do so. He manages it, sees the file, and for the first time in about a year, has hope. He doesn't even wait to show the other three, he just takes off while no one was looking, with April's laptop and CJ's coat (he steals a backpack along the way.)
I don't really want to say much past that. A lot of the rescues/reunions are pretty spoiler heavy, and i don't want to ruin some of the mystery of what's going on in the fic. But know this, he does get all his brothers (and family in general) back. Also, splinter is alive and is part of this, but again, that's spoilers for some things i don't want to ruin.
Again, i'll probably start posting this sometime this week. It's an interesting fic that i've put quite a bit of time into at this point, so i'll be excited to see what is thought of it.
Thank you!
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