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#but i know the part of the fandom that still cares about this is broke as hecc like me LOL
ninjagocrohw · 3 months
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collected the outfits ive actively designed for morro(not just slapped together without planning)
first one is his canon gi, colour corrected,
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that i only ended up using in his initial arrival pages of @juniorjago oops lol. Ill probably use it for flashback stuff to morros babby years
second one is what i designed for him to wear in the post where he apologises to the kids for being a shit
third one is a failed design(yay!) where it was meant to be just. some clothes he threw on, but it looked too. formal? worky? so sCREW IT. he gets a new gi at some point in juniorjago! The fourth is what i ended up going with for this next arc that will EVENTUALLY come about.
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avelera · 7 months
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Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.
- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.
- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.
- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.
They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.
Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.
Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.
I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.
Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.
Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy” in their relationship.
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sheeple · 29 days
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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 3
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Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Matt's thirsty (but so are you also lowkey) / Awkward family moments / Visuals (Don't like them? Don't use them🤷🏻‍♀️) / I suck at writing kiss scenes (yes it's happening) / it's spicy but not full on smut (smut adjacent) A/n: For now this is the end of the mini-series. Thank you all for enjoying my story and see you all in the next one! [Masterlist] [part 1] [part 2]
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Normally you would love to be proven right. Revel in the knowledge that they should have listened to you. But now? Fuck being right. You don't want to right. 
You've been carrying the letter with you for a couple of days and the weight of it makes your schoolbag makes it feel like it's filled with bricks. The letter is weighing you down, and everybody around you seems to notice it. Especially Mattheo. You still hang out with him, of course, but every time the words are on the tip of your tongue, you chicken out.
"Have you told him yet?", asks Susan as she sees you reading the letter again during lunch.
Giving her a frowned look, you shake your head. How in Merlin's name can you inform him that 'hey, my parents want to meet you because Meemaw saw us sneak into my dorm. Now they think we are together and having sex and want to meet the hypothetical father of my hypothetical baby if we were actually having hypothetical sex and not being careful. All hypothetically of course. Why else would I sneak a boy into my dorm?' 
Not casually at least. 
You look over towards his table and meet his eyes. He motions with his head towards the door. You nod with a small smile and finish your juice. "See you in class."
"Have fun with your boyfriend!", she calls after you and you flip her off. 
"What was all that about?", asks Mattheo with a small smile while the two of you walk side by side towards Herbology. 
You shrug, scratching the nailbed of your thumb. You feel a sharp pain but you continue. You know now more than ever that this is the time. "I've... I've received a letter. From my parents." You fish the letter out of your bag and hold it out for him.
Mattheo stops and looks unsurely towards the folded-up paper. When you give him a nod he unfolds the letter. You watch nervously how his eyes scan over the words.
When he stays silent, you begin to panic. "We- you don't have to! I can totally write my parents back and tell them... something! That we broke up or whatever."
"You've got nieces?" He's got a soft smile on his face as he traces the embellishments of the letter. Of course, the stationery of House Hufflepuff has its letters decorated to match the vibe of the family name.
With a shake of your head, you run a hand over your hair. "Out of everything... the thing you focus on is my nieces? Not that fact that my parents want to meet you?"
Mattheo shrugs, handing you the letter back. "Yeah, so what? That's what boyfriends do, don't they? Meet their girlfriend's parents. Fake relationship or not. Wasn't it your parents you wanted to fool?"
That shuts you up and a flaring heat spreads over your face and neck, even towards the points of your ears. "I-I yeah... But I never imagined them doing this! Then I would have never done all this to you!" With a guilty look, you slowly reach for one of his hands. You rub slow circles over the back of his hand.
Mattheo's brain short circuits as his eyes focus on your hand and his. How soft the pad of your thumb feels against his skin. He wonders if your hands feel as soft on different parts of his body. Or how sharp your nails feel when you scratch his back.
He snaps out of it and shakes his head. Taking his chance, he turns his hand around and laces his fingers with yours. "So... how do I leave a good impression on your parents?"
You think for a moment, looking away. "As superficial as it sounds, they put great value in looking a certain way." In that way they're just like other pure-blood families, you want to add but don't. You don't want to offend him or his family.
With a determent nod, Mattheo starts walking the opposite way you were going, pulling you behind him.
"Where are you taking me? Divination is that way", you point over your shoulder as you catch up to him.
Mattheo gives you a daring smile, his eyes wrinkling playfully. "My dorm. I need your advice on what to wear."
You protest and sputter about your attendance all the way towards the Slytherin dungeons. A snake made of metal rises from the ground and reveals a set of double doors. "Pure-Blood", says Mattheo and the doors swing open. You give him a look and he shrugs. "It's the password. Nothing I can do about it."
"I said nothing!", you laugh, being pulled through the entrance
The common area looks like it's carved out of rock, with marble pillars and arches. Large windows give you a look into the endless depth of the Black Lake, fish swimming by. It takes your breath away how stunning the Slytherin common room looks. It's oh so different from your own, but just as beautiful.
You try to ignore the stares you get from the Slytherin's around the room. You do stand out like a sore thumb with your sunshine yellow robes.
"Don't you ever need to pee very much when you are in the common area?", you ask, motioning towards the waterfall you circle as you enter the common room and the many water features around.
Mattheo rolls his eyes with a smile as he leads you down a corridor and holds open the door for you to enter his dorm. Four four-poster beds with green drapes are arranged in a circle with a heater in the middle of the room, spreading warmth around the room. He motions for you to sit on his bed while he rummages through his closet.
You lean back on your hands as you watch him pull one after the other crumbled-up shirt and pants out of the closet. He sends you a slightly embarrassed look and you hop off his bed.
"Let me have a look", you say softly, pushing him to the side.
"I'm sorry... It's a bit of a mess." He scratches the back of his neck as a slight blush colours his cheeks. 
You wave his worries away as you spot a nice pair of jeans and a not-too-crumpled black shirt. It could totally work paired with a dark green jacket. You lay out the pieces on his bed and look proudly between the outfit and Mattheo. It's something you're parents would approve of while still being himself
"If you wear this with the shirt tucked in and your hair just styled like you always do, everything will be okay." You turn towards him with a smile. 
While you were arranging the clothes, Mattheo snuck closer to you. He now stands so close to you, that you can smell his cologne. Your lips part as you look up at him. "Matt?", you whisper as he slowly cradles your face with both of his hands.
His eyes flicker from your eyes towards your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel soft puffs of breath on your face.
Mere millimetres before his lips touch yours, the door swings open and the two of you jump away from each other. "God fucking damn it", you hear him grumble under his breath as Enzo and Draco stand in the doorway.
The two boys look at you with wide eyes before Draco's expression morphs into something more teasing. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything", he says slyly, sending a smirk towards Mattheo. Who gives the blond a scalding glare.
Feeling way too awkward about the situation, you quickly gather your things. "I-I have to go. I wouldn't want to be late for my next class." Giving Mattheo a shy smile, you rush out of his dorm and the Slytherin common room — almost stumbling down and then up the stairs. 
Once you deem yourself far away enough, you slump against a wall and cup your scorching hot cheeks. Your heart beats wildly in your chest... and somewhere else. Did that really just happen? Or almost? In Merlin's name, when did you get so hot and bothered about Mattheo Riddle? Not long ago he was a nuisance to you. And now? Now you've almost kissed two times and he's meeting your parents this weekend.
When you close your eyes you still see Mattheo's warm honey ones, looking at you with such softness and want- no need. 
Gods.
Shaking your head, you steady yourself and with slightly unsteady legs you walk towards Arithmancy.
Meanwhile, back in the boy's dorm, Mattheo collapses onto his bed and curses out his friends. "Fucking twats!" He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, frustration running rampant through his body. 
This was the second time someone interrupted him trying to kiss you. Just when he has gathered the courage to do so. First your friends and now his own. Who out there has it so out for him to cockblock him two times.
Draco and Enzo just look with high amusement towards their frustrated-to-no-end friend. They're gonna take this moment and tease him forever with it.
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You don't get a chance to talk to Mattheo about the kiss. To talk to him in general. Because every time the two of you spot each other, either his or your friends wisk you away and it's driving you mad. It's like they planned it together or something.
It makes you all sulky because you want to discuss what happened between the two of you multiple times. You want answers — which you are lowkey scared of. But it's better to rip the bandage off quickly and get your heart broken than live with questions and never get an answer.
You walk into the Great Hall that Saturday, your fingers anxiously clawing at the nailbeds. But you've taken precautions and bandaged up your thumbs so you can't scratch. The pain stays but there's no blood.
"Don't you look all lovely", smiles Hanah brightly, making you twirl. 
You smile and show her a cheeky leg as the split in your skirt falls perfectly when you sit. "Well...", you let out a nervous sigh, "Matt's meeting my parents today. So, we have to look the part, don't we?"
Your friends' eyes bulge out at the nickname you gave Slytherin bad boy Mattheo Riddle. Nobody ever dared to call him anything other than his name. 
"Is that why he was not-so-subtly sneaking glances at us before you came?", wonders Susan out loud, which makes you tense up.
Looking at the Slytherin table, you find Mattheo easily. He gives a small wave with a smile and you return the gestures. "I'm going to sit over there. I have to prepare him from the wolves."
Slowly, you rise from your table and walk to the other side of the Great Hall. You feel the eyes of the Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's on you. But the only important ones are Mattheo's liquid honey ones, who look at you in wonder.
"Hi", you whisper when you finally reach him.
"Hi", he whispers back, a wide smile on his face.
"Can I sit with you?"
Without hesitation, he nods and slides to the side, almost shoving Enzo into Blaise's lap. He pats the now-empty spot next to him and you swing your leg over the bench. Mattheo zero's in on your bare leg and his brain shortcircuits.
You try to ignore the weird looks the Slytherin's present are giving you as you reach over and grab a piece of toast. You meet Hannah and Susan's eyes from across the room and they give you enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Swallowing your bite, you turn towards the boy next to you to say something. But your words die on your tongue at the look Mattheo gives you. It's unreadable. But not bad unreadable. There is some fondness in there you believe. "I have to warn you, by the way."
He cocks his head to the side, an easy smile on his face. "For your parents?"
A snort escapes you and you shake your head. "No- well... maybe my dad will grill you. But my brothers are way worse. They will either try to embarrass me or you."
"How many do you have?"
"Brothers? Four. There's a twin pair in there too. They are the second youngest after me."
Mattheo pales slightly. Four brothers? He found Thomas already trouble enough. But Four? He knows he's in for some shit.
You can't help but laugh as he visibly pales. Taking his hand, you pat it. You look around the Slyherin's. They all look very amused at Mattheo's despair.
The two of you finish your breakfast before it's time to go. Your parents expect you for lunch but knowing your family, there's not going to be time during just lunch. 
"How are we getting to your home?", questions Mattheo as you both walk through the halls towards Professor Sproud's office. 
You knock on the door and when there's no answer, you enter the room. "Via portkey. Which should arrive any second now." And like you said, a little yellow cup appears on the desk. 
Placing a hand on the cup, you hold the other out for him to take. Mattheo does so and the two of you are whisked away from the castle.
You stumble for a second before you find your footing. Taking a deep breath, your senses fill with the floral aroma of your home. It feels good to be back.
"Holy fucking shit", you hear Mattheo whisper under his breath as he looks at the estate your family owns. It looks centuries old, with ivy covering most of the outer walls. A sprawling garden buzzes with bees and butterflies. A fountain is heard somewhere in the back.
You feel slightly embarrassed at Mattheo's slack jaw. This is mostly the reason why you never told about or took anyone home. The house mansion has been in your family's name for centuries. It's said that Meemaw bought it, but there's no proof of it.
"Come on." You tug him by his hand towards the front door. Mattheo's too caught up by the exterior of the house that he bumps into you when you stop in front of the front door. "Ready?", you ask, and he shakes his head.
As you ring the bell, Mattheo looks at the inscribing above the door. "Dum spiro spero, vi et animo. What does that mean?"
"As long as I breathe I hope, with strength and courage", says your father as he opens the door with a wide smile. "It's our family's motto. Nice to meet you, son." He holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake.
As he pulls the boy inside, you try your bestest to not cringe. "Dad this is Mattheo. My boyfriend." You shyly glance towards Mattheo to gauge his reaction. A slight blush paints his cheeks and you bite your lip hiding your smile.
Your dad shakes the dark-haired boy's hand enthusiastically. He starts to ramble off about the family motto and what it means and it morphs into an in-depth history lesson about the house. How the tiles and pillars in the foyer are at least four hundred years old and how they're kept in such fine condition by magic.
"Dad!", you call out, not having missed the hidden panicked looks Mattheo has given you, trying his best to look interested. "Don't you think it's a little early for Staghill History 101? Let the boy breathe."
Your father lets go of Mattheo with a jolly laugh, his moustache curling upwards. "You are right. I am so sorry, good chap. Why don't you two go to the library while I round up the twins? They're all very excited to meet him."
Tugging on Mattheo's hand, you nod. "Sure. Make sure they clean off any dirt before Mum has an aneurysm. Again."
As you lead him towards the south wing, you stop just outside of the library. "Are you okay? I'm sorry. My dad's a lot and he's just happy to see anyone and everyone. Could be Father Christmas with how jolly he is." You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away.
Mattheo laughs. "It's okay. He's... nice. Now I get where you get it from."
"What?", you question with a cock of your head.
Mattheo wets his bottom lip, his eyes focused on yours. "That twinkle in your eyes when you talk about something you're passionate about." He reaches out for your flaming hot cheeks, cupping them.
The doors to your right swing open and the two of you feel like little children caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Your oldest brother, Felix, raises one disapproving brow and the two of you quickly step away from each other.
"Is it them? Don't hog the door, you big oaf!" Behind Felix appears Herbert, immediately engulfing you in a big, bone-crushing hug. 
"They were snogging", says Felix, walking back towards the couch he always sits on when he visits home. His comment earns him a swat from his wife next to him.
"We were not!", you protest scandalised, wrestling out of Herbert's hold. "We were just... It's none of your business what we were doing!" You grab Mattheo's hand and walk into the library, towards your mother.
He scoffs under his breath, mumbling; "You made it everybody's business when you let Meemaw catch you." That earns him another swat from his wife and a stern look from your mother. 
"Mum", you say after giving her a hug, tugging Mattheo closer, "I would like you to meet Mattheo."
"It's very nice to meet you, ma'am." Mattheo puts on his most charming smile while holding out his hand. 
Your mother shakes her head and gives him one of her signature warm hugs. "None of that! Call me Clementine. Or Clemmy. Or Ma. You're practically family now!"
You blanch, shrinking into yourself. Dear Lord. Why does your mom need to be so much?
Felix snorts. "Is he to stay? What happened to that bloke from Christmas?"
Yours and Mattheo's eyes meet and you purse your lips. "I rather not speak about it..."
That gets their attention, both men leaning forward in their seats. "What did he do?"
"Nothing!" You grow irritated at their endless questions as your mom ushers the two of you towards a couch. Sitting closely together, Mattheo lays a hand on your knee. You don't know if it's to comfort you or to ground himself.
Herbert studies the two of you with his eyes narrowed. He purses his lips while leaning back into the chair. "He beat the ex up, didn't he?"
"Oh, my Gods! Can you not play detective about my life? Stop talking about my ex with my new boyfriend right next to me", you scowl, not wanting the two of them to flip out over something that you're way past.
At that, your mother claps in her hands. "That's right! Mattheo, why don't you tell me something about yourself? What house are you in for instance?"
Mattheo glances nervously towards you and you lay a hand over his own, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "I'm in Slytherin, ma'am. I hope that isn't an issue."
Your mom chortles and waves his concern away. "Oh please, we aren't that kind of family."
"Speaking of family", pipes Herbert from across the room, "Who's family you belong to?"
Both your mom and you sputter and scold Herbert. But the twins coming in gives your brother his answer.
 "Why on Meemaw's good name is Mattheo Riddle sitting next to our sister?", sneers Victor, Danny leering over his shoulder.
A groan escapes you while you slink down the couch, hiding your face in your hands. You had hoped that Mattheo's family wouldn't be a subject. The twins are the only ones from your family who have seen the kind of nuisance Mattheo has been to you before leaving school last year. Of course, it looks very fucking weird that he is now cosying up to you, his hand on your knee and claiming to be your boyfriend.
You feel everybody's eyes on the two of you. Mattheo shrinks down under the many gazes, his hold on you tightening in a silent plea to not abandon him right now.
Not knowing how to get away under the scrutiny, you glance at your mom. She looks shocked and when she meets your eyes, her gaze softens before turning stern. "Didn't I always tell you boys to not judge people? What can the poor boy do about which cradle he was born into? So get off your high horses and be nice to the boy!" She stands with her hands on her hips, berating your brothers.
"What did I miss?", asks your father, standing in the doorway with a tray filled with cookies and teacups, the teapot floating behind him.
"Nothing", smiles your mother, turning towards you, "I was just saying that Mattheo should have a tour of the house. Why don't you do that, honey?"
Getting what she's implying, you nod exuberantly. "Yeah, right! Let's go." 
Mattheo's all too happy to escape the tense room and quickly follows after you, walking with a big arch around the twins, who are still glaring at him.
"I am so sorry." You cast your eyes towards the floor as the two of you walk through one of the many art-lined hallways. "I- There is no excuse for how they treated you..."
Mattheo's hand on your waist makes you stop and look up at him, unsheathed tears dancing in your waterline. He tuts, wiping away the single one that has managed to escape. "Don't cry, pretty girl. It's a warranted reaction. I'm used to it by now. How awkward it was anyways."
You pout while leaning into his hand. "That's horrible Matt. You don't deserve to be treated like that because your father made a wrong choice!"
"It was more than a wrong choice, lovely. Besides, there's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin, remember?" He laughs, but you see that there's sadness in his eyes.
With a shake of your head, you lean closer to him. "You aren't bad! Such a vile stereotype."
This time a genuine laugh bubbles out of Mattheo's chest. "Oh, sweet, sweet, Hufflepuff", he trances your cheek with the pads of his fingers, "there are many things that make me as bad as they say. Mostly for the thoughts I have about you."
Your brain short circuits and you blink up at him, processing his words. He has what? Heh?
Mattheo chuckles at your dumbfounded look. Oh, how cute you are when you are clueless. He clasps his hands behind his back and looks around. "Is there anything in particular you want me to see?", he asks, throwing you a bone.
That seems to snap you out of your daydream of what Mattheo could do to you and you shake your head. "Yes. There is one final person I have to introduce you to."
The two of you walk side by side as he studies both muggle and magical paintings. You lead him towards the main sitting with an empty frame with a chair hanging above the fireplace. Dragging an ottoman over, you motion for Mattheo to follow your lead and climb on top of the cushions.
"Meemaw", you call out towards the empty portrait, "I would like to meet someone."
It takes a second or two before your ancestor appears from the side, graciously draping herself and her skirts on the chair. "My littlest Badger! How are you, my dear?"
You lean closer, smiling. "Hello, Meemaw. I would like you to meet someone." You motion towards Mattheo, who looks with big eyes at her.
"Isn't that...?"
Heat spreads over your face and you bite your bottom lip. "I- yeah..."
"Mattheo Riddle, your ladyship." He bows slightly, earning a hearty laugh from her. 
"Aren't you a charmer? You musn't call me ladyship. Just Helga is fine. Or Meemaw, seeing as you are our littlest badger's love." She sends you a doting smile. "Say, if I may ask; aren't you one of Salazar's boys?"
"Yes. I hope that isn't an issue for you, Helga."
She waves his concerns away. It surprised you how easily Meemaw's taken by Mattheo. He's a naturally charming person when he wants to be after all.
"Oh, of course not, dear boy! Your great-grandfather and I had a... very special relationship of our own when we were younger. It warms my heart that our descendants have found each other." A fond look paints her face as she looks off in the distance. 
As a melancholy glimmer befalls her, you take that as your cue to leave. "I have to continue my tour of the house, Meemaw. See you later."
Waving her off, you hop off the ottoman and put it back in the right place before exiting the sitting room. A sigh escapes your lips and you swing your arms back and forth. Mattheo gives you a raised brow before taking your hand in his and continuing the swinging.
It's nice. The two of you just walking and talking about nothing special in particular. You sometimes point out some facts about you growing up around the house. "In that room, we always used to build pillow forts in." Or "I once ran against that door and lost both my front teeth. They were loose anyways", you add quickly at his concerned look.
Everything's so easy with Mattheo that it scares you. How are you supposed to go back to strangers after your arrangement has come to an end? Can you even go back to strangers? Even if Mattheo doesn't feel the same, you wish you at least could stay friends. Because he's genuinely a nice person to hang out with. It would sadden you to lose him.
The ring of a bell plucks you from your thoughts and you turn towards where the sound came from. "Oh! Dinner's ready." You lead the both of you towards the dining room, taking shortcuts and hidden doors. Mattheo chuckles as you press open another hidden panel before finally arriving in said room.
Out of habit, you go to sit at your usual place at the table and Mattheo follows you. But as he pulls the chair back, Danny is quick to sit in it. After sending a glare at your brother, you look apologetic towards the dark-haired boy. His eyes scan the room and the only free seat is right in front of you, between Herbert and Felix. 
Mattheo sighs and takes place on the empty seat. He feels your brothers stare at him, and he does his best to try and act normal. He smiles politely and answers any questions your mother asks him. Eventually, he learns that — who he believes is Felix — is a beater for the Caerphilly Catapults. His wife plays for the Holyhead Harpies and that's how they met each other. 
Dinner seems to pass by smoothly — not counting the snarky remarks of the twins. But they're dicks. As everybody starts to collect the dishes, your father clears his throat. "Why don't you all go outside and...", he glances towards Mattheo, "Take a lap around the fountain so Mattheo and I can have a heart-to-heart."
Both you and Mattheo send slightly panicked looks towards each other as he gets led away by your father. As your brothers let out an 'oooh', you jab Danny in his side with your elbow. He rubs his side with a slight pout and you poke out your tongue. 
"The last one is a rotten egg!", yells Victor and he sprints towards the back door. You let out a curse and start sprinting after him, the others following. 
While you and your brothers race towards the burrow, Mattheo gets led towards your father's office. He anxiously takes place in the chair in front of your father's desk. The man leans forward and studies the Slytherin boy with narrowed eyes. 
"What are your intentions with my daughter?", he asks, getting straight to the point. 
What are his intentions? Well... he can think of a few things. But none are parent-approved answers. "I like her. I really do, Sir. I wouldn't dare to hurt her." Because that is the truth. He always had a crush on you, but getting to know you? You're everything and so much more than he imagined. 
Your father hums. "I ask this because I have received some chatter that you've been in a... physical altercation with one Malcolm Preece. So, Mattheo, what is the deal with that?" He leans back in the leather chair, one brow raised.
For the first time in a while, Mattheo feels genuinely nervous. And it's not the same kind of nervous before he took you out on your first date. No. This is a different kind of nervousness. A deep-down fear to disappoint the people who he cares about. 
And yes, you are one of those people he realises. He cares about you the most.
Lying will do no good. Because, as your father has shown, he somehow has a way to get information about what happens at school. "In all honesty, sir, Preece was threatening your daughter. They broke up and he kept bothering her. It... indeed got physical because some guys don't know when to take a hint." 
Your father purses his lips, his eyes scanning over Mattheo's face. Searching for a sign of dishonesty. But he finds none. 
"Did you at least get him good?"
That makes the dark-haired boy laugh. "Yes, sir. He won't dare to bother her again."
Your father stands up from his chair and holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake. With a smile and a firm handshake, he says, "You did good son. Now, I believe someone's way too anxious to wait a second longer." He points towards the door, where a shadow is seen pacing under through the crack.
Mattheo closes the door behind him and sees you look at him with wide eyes, chewing on your thumb. "How did it go? What did Dad say?" You fling your arms around him and press your cheek against his shoulder.
He smiles and wraps his arms around you. "Don't worry. Everything's fine." When you look up at him, he cradles your face and wipes away some stray dirt. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it", he smiles.
You roll your eyes but can't help but smile. "Fine. You know what, if we leave now, we maybe have some time left before curfew."
A smirk grows on Mattheo's face while he wetts his bottom lip. "And do what?"
"I don't know", you shrug playfully, pulling him with you, "We will see."
"Absolutely not", says your mother when you come and say your goodbyes. "Your room is already set up. Fresh sheets and everything! Wasn't that clear from my letter?"
Your eyes dart nervously towards Mattheo, who gives you the same look. You silently ask him if he's okay with it. If he's not uncomfortable. He shrugs. He's not too bothered by the idea of staying over.
A sigh escapes you. "Fine. But we don't have anything to sleep in."
Your mother claps in her hands and gets up from the couch, motioning for the both of you to follow her. She leads you through the house, towards your bedroom. 
The smell of clean cotton hits you as soon as you enter your room and you breathe in the smell. That's one of the many things you miss about your home. The house elves of Hogwarts don't use the same detergent as your mother and it just hits a special spot in your brain when you finally smell it.
"I'll grab a pair of Felix's clothes for you, Mattheo." Your mother pats his shoulders before exiting the room.
The boy in question stands in the middle of your bedroom and a smile grows on his face. He can't explain why but it so much you. In the short period he has gotten to know you, this is exactly the type of room he imagined you to have. Maybe with fewer plants.
A four-poster bed stands in the middle of the room, facing a fireplace. On top of the bed grows some hanging plants that spread onto the walls and turn into wallpaper. There's a cosy-looking chair next to the fireplace with tons of pillows and blankets. 
You watch him eyeing the chair and you mention towards it. "You can sit in it if you want. It gives you also a really nice view over the garden." 
Mattheo does so, burying himself between the pillows. The garden is almost too perfect with the way it's lit up by floating lights and lightningbugs. When he looks back at you to comment on the beautifulness, he sees you pull away the many pillows from your bed into a trunk at the front of your bed and readying the bed for sleeping.
"I... I can sleep on the ground- if you're more comfortable with that. I could even fall asleep in this chair."
You stop what you're doing and look at him with such a scandalised look that it makes him shrink. "Uhm how about no? I dragged you into this, like hell I let you sleep on the floor!"
Your mother comes back at the right time with a pair of joggers and a shirt in her hands. She gives him a warm smile as she hands him the clothing, instructing him to where the bathroom is. Mattheo takes that as his saving grace to get a moment of his own. He has to admit, your family is a lot. This whole situation is a lot. And he has nobody to blame for it except himself.
Not that he blames himself. He's quite enjoying himself, being with you, meeting your parents and seeing where you grew up. He now gets why you are how you are. How you can shine so bright because your parents do everything to lighten you.
When he comes back you are also changed in quite the same outfit as him. You are sitting on your bed, nervously nibbling on the side of your thumb. He strides towards you and grabs your hand, stopping you from destroying your nailbed and making you look up at him.
"Are you okay", he asks, interlacing your fingers.
You nod with a hum, eyes focused on your interlinked hands. "Yeah... I'm just tired from today." You run a hand over your hair, brushing some stray strands out of your face. "Are you okay?"
Mattheo lets out a light-hearted scoff. "Don't worry about me, lovely. My family is much much worse."
You blink, wanting to ask more. But a knock on your door stops you. Your father stands in the door opening, Victor looming over his shoulder and glaring daggers at Mattheo. 
"Will you do your old man a favour and keep the door open? I know it makes you uncomfortable, hun. But I don't think I have to explain why?" He motions with his eyes towards how close the two of you are and with a sigh, you nod.
The house is so old that it creaks and groans with even the slightest breeze. And it freaks you out when you hear it at night. Are you saying that this centuries-old house doesn't have ghosts? Likely.
As your dad walks away, Victor takes a step forward, his jaw taut. "You", he points towards the dark-haired boy, "I'm right next door and these walls aren't as thick as they seem. I will hear everything. No funny business!"
Mattheo sends him a charming smile that you know will irritate Victor. "I promise." But when he turns around when Victor storms away, he shows you his crossed fingers. You let out a giggle and swat him.
After that you take it as a cue to get ready to sleep so you crawl under the covers. Mattheo positions himself between you and the open door and the two of you lay on your backs, staring up at the canopy. 
It... feels weird having Mattheo Riddle next to you in your bed. The even weirder feeling is the desire to keep him there.
You turn so you're facing him, your hands tucked under your pillow. "I've been wondering... When you spoke in Parsletongue, what did you say?"
Mattheo tenses slightly before turning towards you, a pink flush heats up his cheeks. His eyes trace every inch of your face, taking in the details; moles, freckles, perfect imperfections. It makes him want to reach out and trace every one of them.
"Oh I don't remember", he says offhandedly, his eyes fleeing yours.
You scoot closer, a mischievous smile on your face. "Yes, you do! Please tell me. It can't be that embarrassing."
His lips part and the same sounds fill the room, raising goosebumps on your arms. "You are... you are the most beautiful person I know and I don't know if I can keep pretending that this is fake."
Your smile melts off your face and you look with wide eyes towards him. An unsure look fills his eyes as his brows knit together. "Say something", he whispers- begs. A hesitant hand reaches out and gets placed on your cheek.
Your heart beats a million miles an hour and every word just escapes your brain. So you do what you have been wanting to do for a while now. And you kiss him. Pressing your lips against his, you close your eyes while your hand travels from his wrist to his shoulder, gripping him tightly.
Mattheo lets out a surprised humph, his eyes wide as he watches your eyes flutter close. He breathes in deeply before kissing you back, pulling you closer.
Two pairs of lips mould against each other while Mattheo's hand slides down and grips your thigh, wrapping your leg around his middle. Your body melts against his as the kiss grows more fierce, lips parting and tongues exploring each other's mouths. 
A low growl emits from Mattheo as you part, your chest raising and falling rapidly. He zeros in on your neck and decides then and there how kissable the skin looks and that it needs to be marked.
Your head gets thrown back as Mattheo attacks your neck with kisses, licks and bites and you do your best to suppress the breathy moan that wants to escape you. You bite your bottom lip as your eyes squeeze close. 
Mattheo's lips travel down, tracing the shape of your throat with his teeth and he flips the both of you over, hovering above you. He relishes in your bitten raw lips and the half-lidded look you give him. The way your chest raises and makes your shirt tighten... he thanks whatever god there is out there that made this possible.
His admiring takes too long in your opinion and you grab the back of his head, yanking him down so he kisses you again. Mattheo complies and cradles your face, his big hands engulfing your cheeks, feeling the heat underneath them. 
He pecks your lips a few times before trailing down, Mattheo's hands finding the hem of your sleep shirt. He glances at you and only continues after a nod. He pushes your shirt up, above your breast while his lips trail from your chin, neck, and collarbones, to your sternum. 
When he flattens his tongue tentatively against one of your nipples, a moan escapes you. It makes him smirk against your skin, doing it again. 
"Matt... ah!", you squeak out, gripping his shoulder.
His tongue swirls against the nub and one of his hands reaches up, clasping a hand over your mouth to silence the sweet noises pouring out of your mouth. Your tongue swipes over one of his fingers. Mattheo presses the pads of his pointer and middle finger against your tongue before sliding into your mouth.
A 'mmph' escapes you while you suck around his digits, hands trying to ground yourself as everything feels too much; his tongue against your boob, his fingers in your mouth, and something hard pressing against your core. 
Your hands find the hem of his shirt and your nails rake up against his bare back. He moans against you and releases your nipple with a 'pop'. He looks at you with dark eyes and swollen lips while he lowers himself towards your core.
While his fingers dance over the elastic of your underwear, you push his fingers out of your mouth. "Matt wait..."
As if your words scorched him, he's off you immediately, his chest raising rapidly and face flushed. "I'm-I'm sorry. I got a little carried away..."
You sit up, pushing your shirt down and shaking your head. "No... please don't- it's okay. I-I enjoyed it too. It's just...", you cradle his face and peck his lips, "I don't want our first time to be in my childhood bedroom and avoid making too much noise."
Mattheo leans into your touch and kisses your palm. You pull him down with you and lay on top of his chest. When you move your legs, you accidentally bump against his boner. You sputter out an apology, feeling bad for blue-balling him.
His hands grab your hips tightly and he presses you closer against his body. He brings his lips towards your ear. "Don't worry about it, Princess. Because when I have the chance, I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget our whole relationship was fake to begin with."
Oh Gods, you created a monster... 
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queers-gambit · 6 months
Text
Save Me From Myself
prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.
pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader
fandom masterlist: The Last of Us
word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+
warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.
"I got it - "
"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."
Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"
You shrugged, "No idea."
"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"
You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"
"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"
"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.
"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"
"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "
"A stick."
There was a long pause.
"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."
"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"
You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"
"Because they're always up to something."
You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."
"Lay it on me."
"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"
"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.
"With Caesars."
Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."
You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.
"You don't know Julius Caesar?"
"No? Who the hell is that?"
You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"
"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."
You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."
"You used the term punny."
"Both are accurate."
"I think you're just an idiot."
"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."
Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.
He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.
The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.
Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.
Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.
He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.
You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.
After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.
You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.
Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.
One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".
How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?
When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.
"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."
"I'll talk to him," he assured.
You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.
The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"
"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "
"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.
"Well - yeah - I mean - "
"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"
"Joel - "
"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "
"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"
"Are any of us?" He huffed.
"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "
"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."
You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."
"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."
You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"You didn't do anything."
"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."
"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "
"Why wouldn't you stay here?"
"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."
You both smiled ruefully.
"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.
She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.
"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."
"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."
"I can't take this," you whispered.
"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.
"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.
You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.
The single strand that kept him in the past.
Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.
Prevented him from truly moving on.
Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.
So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.
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requesting rules and masterlist
TLOU masterlist
Clingy Baby masterlist
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Text
If Jason had been written to have atleast somewhat of a jealousy streak of Percy, then it would have made him more human tbh. Ironically I feel like the fandom would've been much more empathetic to his character, if he acknowledged that he envied Percy a little and then came to terms with it. We know that Jason's fear of being 2nd best is a very integral part of his character, I mean, Gaia taunting him with that in his nightmares was enough to reduce him into tears. and that's the ONLY time we've even remotely seen him cry. Percy had so many things Jason didn't have, a loving mom, a loving girlfriend who took a knife for him and never broke his heart, a loving camp that looked for him endlessly after he went missing, people ACTUALLY wanting him to survive because they care about him not because they need him for glory, etc. and if im being honest Poseidon wasn't even that bad of a father (for a big three god, atleast) tbh he still came to percy's 15th birthday, invited him to fishing, genuinely loved sally, she was probably the only mortal he fell in love with and it stayed that way, he was never rude to percy and stuck up for him etc. not tryna say percy had it easy or anything ofc he didnt, but there is no point in denying that he had a MUCH better support system than jason ever had.
The fact that Jason despite having none of these things was not even remotely envious of Percy made him appear like a bland robot with no emotional baggage
Compare this to Nico, who was rightfully a little jealous/idolizing Percy while simultaneously having a crush on him, also a little jealous of Jason because he was "the golden boy" who everyone respected, it made him have SO much depth and the fandom loves him (rightfully so)
also, leo. He was resentful of Percy up until blood of Olympus because of how everyone loved him, how Calypso fell for him almost immediately, etc. it's very realistic.Jason feeling a little resentful of Percy and then later talking it out would've made his character much less of a shallow stereotypical nice guy that ppl dislike.
maybe Rick could've expanded on Jason's jealousy of how quickly camp Jupiter accepted Percy and how quickly Reyna made him praetor, when jason himself had dedicated his whole life to it and was only made praetor in the last couple months, how camp Jupiter and his supposed friends never held a memorial for him even after they thought he was dead, etc. Also how Percy spent more time with thalia than jason ever did, we know he did feel a little envious since he mentioned how much he wished thalia looked for him the way she was looking for percy
I would've loved to see Jason being a little cold to Reyna too because of this and then they later talk it out, since it's VERY realistic, I was surprised with how quickly jason shrugged the whole Percy- being- a -praetor thing off, I thought he'd have felt a little betrayed by Reyna considering that they were childhood friends, and reyna never really sent a search party or something after him like annabeth did, gods, the amount of angst potential this man had i love him ugh
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darlingofvalyria · 8 months
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❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞
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part 03 | pucker up, buttercup
chapter summary:
[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]
[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,
contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.
a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡
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"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"
"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.
Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.
After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.
"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"
"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."
"You broke a window didn't you?"
"I really, really had to piss."
She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."
Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."
A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."
"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"
"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."
 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"
"— Aemond and Alys broke up."
"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."
"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."
"You are playing god between two people you care about."
"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"
"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.
And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.
Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.
"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."
"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"
"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."
Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.
And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.
Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.
But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.
Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.
It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.
The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.
And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.
Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.
"When this crashes and burns—"
"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."
"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.
Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."
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It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.
Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.
"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"
"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"
You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.
He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.
At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.
Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.
Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.
Surely.
"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"
"Yes, but—"
"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"
 "Yes, but I—"
He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.
"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"
"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"
You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.
"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."
"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.
"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."
You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.
"Thanks."
"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"
You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."
Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.
"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."
"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.
"What was that?"
"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."
He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"
"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."
You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.
"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."
"And what concept is that?"
You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."
"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.
"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."
It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.
You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.
You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."
"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.
"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.
"I don't hate it."
"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.
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For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.
It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).
You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.
But for those that knew, knew.
It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.
But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.
You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.
To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.
"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.
He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.
"Why is that? Do I look that young?"
"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."
He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."
"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"
"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.
"You're in college."
"And of legal age? You're only four years older."
"Oh, right."
"What?"
You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."
His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.
It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.
Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.
"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.
"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"
"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.
"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.
But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.
"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"
"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."
"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"
There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.
"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."
"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."
Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.
And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.
His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.
Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.
The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.
"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.
Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."
You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."
Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"
"The local spider that lives here."
"Of course." And he smiled.
You smiled back.
Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.
And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.
"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.
"What? What'd you do?"
He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."
"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.
You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.
Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.
"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"
He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"
"Aemond?"
The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.
She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.
Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.
You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."
Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"
Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.
"Yes," he says. "We are."
"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."
"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.
Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.
Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."
And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.
"You're mad at me."
"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."
He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."
You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."
"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.
"You could've told me."
He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"
Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."
At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.
You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.
"You're such a dumbass."
He hums in agreement.
You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.
Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.
He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"
"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."
And then you slant your mouth against his.
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slttygeto · 1 year
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COMFORTING YOU AFTER A BREAKDOWN
featuring: gojo, geto.
genre: fluff, comfort.
note #1: super self indulgent. my best friend had just finished comforting me from a breakdown and i thought why not write something abt these men being sweethearts.
note #2: double update???? see yall in 2024 i guess /j
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—GOJO
im not even being biased when i say hes the best at comforting
he’s extremely intelligent. but his emotional intelligence makes him feel safer
he wont really act “goofy” like most of the fandom makes him out to be
but rather sit with you and wait until youve calmed down before he can ask you if youre ready to talk
it seemed as though the more he tried to get you talk, the more your lip quivered before you went back to crying again. this has never happened before, and it’s not like gojo was panicking about how to comfort you, he was just extremely worried as to what pushed you to such a breaking point.
rubbing your arms with his thumbs as you stood between his legs and cried on his shoulder, the tall white haired man remained as quiet as possible, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
“do you want me to rock you a little bit?” he rested his chin at the top of your head, gently swinging your body from side to side as he listened to your stuttered breaths and little sniffles that slowly broke his heart to pieces.
“are you ready to talk?” the question itself brought tears to your eyes once again, your arms wrapping around his torso to squeeze him tight and pull him closer to you.
“okay, okay, that’s a no I guess,” he added in a teasing tone, chuckling a little when he heard you snort in between sobs.
you were sure of one thing, and it was that no matter how shitty your day was, getting to be with satoru was able to fix everything.
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—GETO
goes into protective mode the moment he sees that youre crying because he knows it takes a lot for you to breakdown this hard
will hold your hands and repeatedly ask you if youre hurt somewhere or if you need to go to the hospital
only to realize halfway through that it was just a bad day, a bad week or maybe even a bad month since you tended to brush things off until you were going to explode
“you scared me,” when he said this, he didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. yet watching you slowly sit up on his lap, swollen eyes filling with tears once again as you let out what he understood to be a “im sorry” in the shape of a sob, shattered his heart to pieces that he had to place his hand on the back of your head to have you hugging him again.
“not saying this to make you feel guilty baby, it just shows that i care. i care when you’re going through something and it affects you this much,” you knew he was referring to the fact that he found you sobbing on the bathroom floor, messy hair and attire being a sign that you weren’t even able to get out of bed the entire day.
“it was just a bad day. was too tired to try and lie to myself,” you mumbled against his chest, body relaxing when his fingers started to trace your back gently.
“if it’s a bad day, then let it be a bad day. even if it physically stops you from getting things done, you’re doing more than enough.”
and sometimes, you wish you were able to record when suguru was this…soft. not that he wasn’t on other days, but seeing him be this careful with his words wasn’t really often considering his blunt personality.
yet, you were still grateful for every part of him.
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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Are You Lonesome Tonight? (Floyd, Jade)
The Leech twins are very particular about one thing in specific: anything that's boring is a big no. That includes their dating life.
NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!
There we go, folks, I finally opened my Elvis playlist after resisting for so long. It's like I haven't learned anything in all my past Fandoms. Also... second part, maybe?
The eels call each other "other half" because I think it's cute
ANGST. But not just for Reader ;) With a hopeful ending? Maybe?
This has a SEQUEL!
— (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)
— Floyd
Floyd's relationship is going well. So well that it's a problem. Now Shrimpy is old news, and will willingly show Floyd everything she is and does, taking away the thrill of hunting down that information.
And worse, Floyd has become predictable to her. She can tell what he is feeling and what he'll do just as well as Jade, which takes away the fun of being a wild card, even if most of the time she lets him do whatever he wants.
Differently from Azul, the eels, and specially Floyd, do not enjoying the curse of knowing. The unexpected has always been more interesting.
But now he's bored of this relationship. And Floyd is not one for sticking around to boring things without knowing they'll have interesting results.
"Shrimpy, let's break up," he bluntly tells her as soon as he arrives to their usual lunch spot at the Monstro Lounge. "You're no fun anymore."
The girl stares up to him, and he feels a rush of pleasure at the whirlwind of feelings in her eyes betraying her blank expression. Oh, at least she gave him a last moment of enjoyment! Maybe, if she keeps showing all those feelings, he'll keep her around as a friend–
Then she blinks and the feelings are gone, all replaced by a calm tide of understanding and kindness. She smiles at him, her usual gentle smile back in place, and gets up, leaving her half drank drink and some money on the table.
"I understand, Floyd," she says, and her voice trembles a little before steading. Shrimpy gently takes one of his hands and squeezes between hers. "Thank you so much for all those happy memories. I hope we can still be friends and that you find someone who will keep you entertained."
Then she drops his hand and scurries off. Floyd is left in the middle of Monstro Lounge, silent and frozen, the warmth on his hand slowly fading as time moves on. It takes him another minute to snap out of it, and now he's in a terrible mood and he doesn't even know why. He was supposed to be happy! The boring thing was taken care of! He's free! Free!
Except he spends the rest of the day sulking. Except he ends the day depressingly throwing himself on the bed and clutching his pillow with trembling hands. Except he tosses and turns and dreams of (Y/N). Except he wakes up grumpy. Except he does terribly at classes and gets scolded. Except he works terribly at Monstro Lounge and gets scolded. Except he doesn't even feel like getting annoyed at the scoldings. Except he spends the rest of the day sulking. Except he ends the days staring at his ceiling with a blank expression. Except he starts the days grumpy and tired. Except he skips classes because he feels like breaking something. Except he gets scolded every day for missing class and being late for work. Except
"Floyd, this is enough," Jade appears in his line of view, openly worried as he leans down to look at his twin. "What is bothering you so much? You're tearing up."
Floyd blinks, finally noticing the wetness in his eyes. Jade sits on his bed and Floyd sits up to stare at him. This is not a scolding. This is an intervention, one of Jade's rare moments of care, where he drops all his lies and half-truths.
Much how his Shrimpy used to do.
"Floyd..." Jade murmurs, hands cupping Floyd's face and thumbs catching his tears. "What is the matter, my other half?"
"... I broke up with Shrimpy," Floyd sobs, not holding back his tears or his words. "I thought... I thought she was boring, and she was! There's never anything interesting anymore, so I– I broke up with her, but... Hic...!"
With a wail, he throws himself at his brother's arms, squeezing him with all his might, hiding his face in his neck. He's crying harder than he has in years, the last time being when they were children. Jade only hugs him back, hand soothingly rubbing his back, knowing exactly what his twin needs. Floyd sobs out more words, some he can't even understand himself, but his other half only listens, nodding every now and then to assure him that he's being listened to.
Once he's done crying, he's so tired that he doesn't protest when Jade lays him back on his bed and then takes his place by his side. Sharing a bed comes naturally to them, and so does the cuddling. Usually, Floyd would tease Jade for being a softie, but he doesn't have the strength to muster even a huff.
"It seems, Floyd, that your feelings run deeper than just interest," Jade says after a moment, ungloved fingers running through Floyd's hair. "You probably... no, you definitely like her, romantically. Maybe you even love her."
"I don't love boring things!"
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but she is not a thing, brother," Floyd can't believe that mister schemer said that also, but Jade's words are upsettingly making too much sense. "She's a girl you seem to hold dearly."
"But, then, why was she boring?"
"... I can't answer that, my other half. I'm not even sure you were bored. Every time I saw you with her, I thought you were at your happiest."
Floyd deflates even more, cuddling his brother for comfort, wishing he was cuddling his Shrimpy. She'd always let him cuddle and squeeze her, and giggle when he'd knead her sides or nip her shoulder. It was... nice. Not exactly fun, but nice. Made him feel warm. Warm like when she'd bring him food she cooked herself. She'd repeat the dishes he liked, and it was... nice. Warm. Like her kisses, always so gentle and sweet. Expected. Nice.
Not really fun. But really nice.
It didn't make his blood pump, but it warmed him. Made him... satisfied.
"... I wanna my Shrimpy back."
"Fufufu... should we prepare then?"
— (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)
— Jade
"I'd like to talk to you later."
Her eyes widen for a moment before she nods, and Jade relishes in the nervousness creeping up her back. A very rare feeling when it comes to his girlfriend lately.
(Y/N) was the most interesting person when they first met, and in all aspects but teir relationship, she still is, what with her lack of magic, her determination and her pechant for getting in troubro helping others. But months into a relationship, and Jade has found everything there is to find about her. Sure, the shenanigans she brings are always entertaining, but he doesn't need to be more than a friend to be part of those.
Doesn't need to waste effort into maintaining a romantic relationship.
So he won't. Jade loves being efficient, after all.
Which is why there's already a paid drink on the table when she arrives at Monstro Lounge. If he wants in whenever shenanigans happen, he needs to at least be liked and trusted enough to be an option in case things got bad. So a proper, honest break up is the best. He even lets her take a sip of the drink and swallow it before opening his mouth, to avoid her choking.
"I'll be direct, since I don't want to drag such unpleasant moment much longer," he starts, staring right at her eyes, "The truth is... I'm breaking up with you."
Silence.
"C-Can I ask why?" (Y/N) stutters, playing with the drink's straw. "Did I do something?"
"Oh, no, you did nothing. And that's the problem. You see, me and my brother... we don't like boring."
He knows he's being cruel now, but he wants to finish this quickly. Jade is the type of person with much to do and very little time, so every minute is precious.
"Oh..." she mumbles, taking a deep breath before mustering up a smile. It looks a bit crooked, but it is still as kind as always. "Right. I understand. Thank you for being honest, Jade. I hope we can still be friends...?"
"Of course, I'd love that."
"Right... right. I'm gonna- I'm gonna go now, ok? Thanks for the drink."
She runs off, no doubt going to tell her friends about the break up. If it's her usual group, then she'll be fine. Jade takes the glass, finishes the drink in one go and immediately moves to the next task on his long, long list.
Jade does very well the days after the breakup. He excels at work, he excels at school, he excels at keeping his brother from bothering others too much, he excels at taking care of his terrariums. Truly, he's so efficient, one would believe he is the one with either ten limbs or a cloning magic. He's so effficient that he... doesn't have as many tasks as before.
And without tasks to fill in the time, it becomes obvious the holes in his schedule. Without a girlfriend to walk to class, he has to wander the hallways alone. Without a girlfriend to cook with, he has to cook and clean alone. Without a girlfriend to tutor, he doesn't know what to do but sit on the library with his textbooks open, all assignments completed to perfection. Once the amount of tasks went down, his time alone went up, and he has no idea how to feel about it.
He knows even less how to feel when he sees (Y/N) talking with that Savanaclaw first year—what was his name again? Jake? Jack?—animatedly, touching his arm and even leaning on it, sharing with him her pretty giggles and shining smiles while the boy drinks up her attention with a bright blush and a fake scowl. They walk off arm in arm, and Jade stands there, stupefied, feeling something inside him tear like paper.
"Other half, what is it?"
"Floyd?"
Floyd approaches with uncharacteristically worried eyes, hands raising to cup his face. Jade allows him, only to flinch back when he feels a thumb smear something wet on his cheek.
Oh.
"... who did this?" Floyd growls, and Jade is warmed by the knowledge that his brother, his twin, his other half, is always willing to fight in his name.
"I did this to myself," he admits quietly, stepping closer to the other. Floyd is clearly confused, but accepts his brother in his arms nonetheless, understanding that Jade is feeling a bit too vulnerable at the moment. "It seems not even I am safe from stupid mistakes."
"Of course, you silly fishy~" the other pats his back lightly, squeezing him with all his might in an attempt to comfort. "What did you do?"
"... I broke up with (Y/N)."
"Oh, that's stupid."
"Thanks."
"It's the truth," Floyd shrugs, now patting his head. "You really love Shrimpy, though. Always beaming near her, why did you break up? Did she do something? I'll squeeze her for you!"
"No, no, I just... Thought it was boring."
"... Huh. I didn't have that impression at all. If anything, you always look happy near her, like she hung the moon and stars. It's even sappier than when you're looking at mushrooms."
Jade chuckles softly, knowing that he has no way of denying it. Not when he still spends time to wait for her between classes only to remember the two are not together anymore. Not when he cooks for her and then has to eat it because she's not there anymore. Not when he wants to fight that wolf boy for daring to take away her attention, despite knowing he also has no right to it anymore.
Not when he loves her so dearly, and still broke up with her.
He needs to get her back.
"... Floyd. Would you like to join me in my next plan?"
"What's the plan? If it's fun, you can count on me~"
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arkhammaid · 1 year
Text
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE MAN, WHO DEEPLY CHERISHES AND LOVES YOU.
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fandom. genshin impact
pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader
content warnings. angst to fluff, cheating, nightmares, ayato neglecting you but i promise he loves you
word count. 1.1k
notes. ahahahahaha, i'm almost too late, but here is a birthday fic for ayato. i promise i love this man but i couldn't help myself <33 thank you @shiinleaf for proofreading, you're a blessing 🫶
“Have I not loved you enough?”, you ask him with a surprisingly strong voice, after you catch him kissing a noble girl. Her lipstick stains his white collar, leaving marks on his skin. Skin that is normally only touched by you, his fiancée, soon-to-be wife. The girl is still touching him, and he makes no move to lift his hands from her hips. Kamisato Ayato stares at you, his gaze cold and void of any affection he ever held for you. Maybe it was nothing but a farce, a mask he put on, while you started to care about him, even fall for him.
“I see,” you can only murmur, hands clasped in front of you as you bow your head. “In that case, I shall see myself out.” You turn your back towards them, the pair who had exchanged kisses in the darkness of the dimly lit room, and leave. 
You don’t break, you don't dare to break, leaving the estate with your head high and a soft smile on your face, as always. 
You walk and walk, greet the soldiers of the Kamisato Clan and then… 
Then you break. Shoulders shaking, your cries are muffled by your own hand. Pressing your eyes together, you try to forget the picture, the moment when you saw Ayato kissing someone else. You try to forget, as you continue to cry, your heart breaking because who are you kidding? You fell for the Yashiro Commissioner a long time ago, you already gave him your naive little heart and he just broke it. 
He shattered it into a thousand pieces and didn’t even care. He didn’t care about your reputation, your future, nor the love you held for him. He broke you and didn’t care at all. 
You jolt awake, eyes blinking and adjusting to the dark. Patting the surface you’re laying on, you can make out the familiar shadows of your room. The room Ayato and you share. The bed Ayato and you share. But he’s nowhere to be seen and so you flop back, staring at the ceiling. 
Another nightmare. Another nightmare where Ayato cheats on you. Rolling on your right side, you pull your blanket a bit higher and curl in on yourself. 
You’ve always hated sleeping alone, always haunted by nightmares with no one to dry your tears after you wake. But it was a common thing that happened and it would happen in the future. Ayato is always busy and often sleeps alone, rarely joining you, and if he does, he’s never there when you wake in the morning. 
This is why you’ve always had these specific nightmares. Nightmares where Ayato left you, cheated on you, without any explanation. Your biggest fear, a tiny voice whispering it could be actually true. Just the thought of it makes you tear up again and you feel so stupid. You know Ayato would never do something like this, his honor wouldn’t allow it and still…
Shutting your eyes, you try to sleep again, the place next to you left cold. But you continue to toss, the blankets tangling around your legs, until you decide to search for your fiancée. 
It’s late, probably past midnight. The estate is silent and there are no lights lit up, no candles to show you the way to Ayato’s study. And yet it’s easy to find, the only part of the building that is illuminated. The scribbling on paper is the only sound you hear, besides your hesitant steps and labored breathing. 
He sits there, as always, at his table full of paper. Still in his usual clothing, his whole mind is focused on the documents in front of him. 
You watch how he lifts several papers, compares  them, then puts them back, doting down notes before flipping his notebook. The cycle then starts all over again, all while the candles flicker and let the shadows dance across the walls and his oh so beautiful face. 
When you finally step into his study, his head snaps up, mouth parting in surprise when he sees you in your light nightdress. Quickly laying down his brush, he stands up. 
“Beloved, why aren’t you asleep?,” he asks, frowning in concern as he wraps his arms around you. Sighing, you lean into his chest, closing your eyes with a hum. 
“I could ask the same to you,” you mutter back, enjoying the hug. He doesn’t answer, and so a silence falls over the two of you as you stand in the middle of his study.. You enjoy being held like this, his hands rubbing circles over your back and not letting you go. 
“Join me in bed,” you say after a while, voice cracking and Ayato stills. He carefully moves his hands towards your shoulders and gently moves away, to get a good view of your face. 
“What happened? Normally you never-” 
“I had a nightmare.” Ayato’s face crumbles at your words. You can see how he wants to say something, but you won’t let him. Not when you finally have the chance to tell him how much you miss him, how much you want him, even if it’s for something as simple as holding you when you fall asleep. 
“I’ve had several nightmares and- and they got worse. I know you’re busy, but please, just tonight-” 
“Of course. You should’ve told me sooner. I thought, I-”, Ayato sighs and then shakes his head. Pulling you close to him again, he cradles your head in his hands and murmurs, “I will join you, I would’ve joined you the moment you told me of your request. My dear, you do know that I cherish you?” A hesitant nod is your answer, making him sigh. 
“Mayhaps it was my mistake to not voice this more often. You’re my beloved, my wife-to-be and the mother of my future children. You have my heart, you have me, always, no matter how busy I am.” You tighten your arms around him, pressing your face in his chest, anything to not let him know that you’re close to crying. Hearing him call you his beloved, his wife, the mother of his future children— it filled you with happiness. The same happiness that is currently spreading through your whole body, chasing your dark thoughts and nightmares away. 
“I love you,” you mumble after a while, voice muffled by his clothing but he hears it nonetheless. 
“I love you too, my beloved. Now come, we should both head to bed.” 
He takes you by your hand, guiding you through the dark estate, leaving his study and unfinished documents behind. He leaves the role as Yashiro Commissioner and Head of the Kamisato Clan behind him and is now simply Ayato, your fiancée, the man, who deeply cherishes and loves you. 
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taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @keqism , @kamiiyaka , @venexus , @stellumi , @wanderersbell , @uraqtttt , @spiriteddreams , @lxvebun , @ineshapanda , @baeshijima , @themercyverse
if you want to join the taglist, please read this post!
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ARKHAM MAID 2023
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jewishvitya · 5 months
Note
I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your insight and generosity with your perspective as an anti-zionist israeli, something you absolutely don't owe us but I feel immense amounts of respect and admiration for. from an American jew, it's been so valuable to know there are people like you out there, it's made everything feel much less hopeless despite all the hopelessness. I've felt very alone recently, surrounded by all the Jewish people in my life who are pro-israel and don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and my pro-palestine gentile friends, and I've felt very alone in my grief as I've only really started to unpack and dismantle my own biases very recently. reading your posts and your perspective on everything has just made me feel very seen as a jew in this situation, especially as I try to reconcile my feelings about everything going on with my own feelings about my faith and my identity.
you've probably seen that I've gone through a lot of your posts and that I've followed you. i just want you to know that I'm not necessarily following you just for that, I know you're just a fandom blog, it's just that after looking through your posts I feel like you're just a really nice person and seeing yoi on my dash from you would be endearing coming from you even though im not into it myself.
just. thank you again for sharing your story and continuing to share. you have no idea how much it's helped me.
I'm in tears. I've been crying way more than usual over the past couple of months, but it's nice for a change to have those tears to come from being touched instead of grief. I apologize if I'm going to ramble.
You say I didn't owe you all this, but I do feel responsible. I'm watching so much destruction and seeing how comfortable people around me are with the loss of life. This is why I've been talking about what we do and not as much about the impact of October 7 on me or people I know. I did a bit of that in the beginning, but pretending it was the start of everything to keep going back to that one day, after two months of horror, as if I can't count past 7... I didn't choose to be born where I am, I didn't choose to grow up in the most extremist community this place has to offer. But since I'm here, since I'm comfortable at the expense of Palestinians and violence is being done in my name and I have the tools to highlight issues within my society, I think it's a moral obligation.
I know how I talk about things here, and that's genuinely because I don't want to minimize the severity of the racism and the nationalism in Israel. And someone perceived my words as showing hatred for Israelis. But... I love my people. I don't expect those who see or experience our violence to feel the same or even understand me, but I do. It's my neighbors and my childhood friends and my family. It's children I see playing outside and getting excited when they see I have a cat, and the random people who stop me in the street and give me directions if they think I look lost.
Even growing up in the West Bank settlements, the people were very good to me. I needed years to internalize the fact that this kindness doesn't get extended to you if you're not part of the in-group. It broke my heart. It still does. Seeing people who I know are capable of kindness and compassion, hardening themselves against the pain of other human beings. Closing their eyes and telling themselves it isn't real. It's all an act.
I told a friend I feel like I'm betraying my mom, who was deeply bigoted, but also a wonderful mother. She taught me a lot of the principles that are guiding me now - I just took down the walls she put around who deserves to be considered. She'd be horrified with seeing the things I'm saying if she was still alive. But she taught me to care about people, I just decided it means all people.
Everyone should be prioritizing Palestinian liberation, and at the same time, I care about this too. I care about the morality of my people. I need us to be better than this. I want to dismantle the nationalism that teaches us hate and violence so we can start to heal and come to terms with what we did (and still do) here. I want us to fix what we can and hold ourselves accountable. I want us to reimagine safety in a way that doesn't cause harm, and build good relationships with the rest of humanity. Every marginalized community is experiencing bigotry in interactions with every other community, that's just how these things work. But I believe healing the world, and healing my society, is possible.
And it's hard, because so much of what we learn is rooted in truth. Antisemitism is real. Millennia of persecution are real. The trauma we carry is real. If the idea of an ethnostate makes us feel safe, and the idea of losing it makes us scared, how do we differentiate between fear as a natural reaction to antisemitic violence and fear that was taught to us for the sake of nationalism? Especially those of us living in Israel, immersed in the propaganda. It doesn't matter in practice, our feelings of safety or fear don't justify an ethnostate, especially not one built on top of another nation, but it matters for the conversations I have with people.
And I said that the violence I'm seeing feels like an attack on my identity. Seeing a giant hannukiyah in Gaza, when Hannukah tells the story of occupied people fighting off their oppressors. Seeing images that echo so much of the horrors that were done to us. The Magen David being used with hate and spite. It's all so painful. And I love this land, it's the only home I've known, so seeing us destroying nature and soaking it with blood and calling that connection?
Judaism does guide me here. The concept of tikkun olam. The idea of לא עליך המלאכה לגמור ולא אתה בין חורין לבטל ממנה - doing what I can, even if what I'm able to do isn't some decisive blow that entirely turns the tide. The idea that every human being is a whole entire world, to me it means that every single person alive is worth fighting for. So no matter how much death I see, there's still worlds more to save.
And Jewitches had this post that felt just healing to read. Nationalism hijacked our culture, and it will always leave a mark for centuries into the future. But I'm not letting go, and I'm not letting that create a rift between me and thousands of years full of history I can be proud of.
I feel your grief. And I'm grateful for the anti-zionist Jews I met by talking about this, because honestly, I need you people in my life. The pain and the anger are both easier to hold together.
So, thank you for following. I might follow back, just to see you around on my feed. And thank you for sending this. Feel free to message me anytime for any reason (I promise it won't result in a lecture every time).
Also, your url gave me pjo nostalgia
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dotster001 · 9 months
Text
Found Chapter Two
Requested by @somany-fandoms-solittle-time
Summary:Lilia x gn!reader. Now that you've been reunited, Lilia is forced to remember how hard it is to care for you. But he's not the only one starting to remember....
A/N: hopefully y'all enjoy this, cause I have a whole series idea for this 😁
3k celebration masterlist
Part One
You were dreaming.  You were the maid to a queen, and you were watching what looked like a court case.
"You're nothing more than a tyrant!"
You and your fellow maids all stiffened and murmured amongst yourselves. This stranger from who knows where dared to speak to your queen that way? Didn't she know how dangerous that was? People were beheaded for less in this kingdom!
The queen's face turned beat red as she prepared to issue a sentence, and a loud one at that.
Before you could hear it, you were hit with a dizzy spell, and sharp pain in your stomach.
"Louisa," the maid next to you looked concerned, "do you need to sit down? Did you take your potion today?"
"I'm fine," you groaned, but still felt yourself smile.
"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
All the maids nodded. This was the expected verdict.
You looked down at your ring with the fuchsia gem, and smiled through the stomach pain. Everything would be alright.
….
Lilia couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was so happy you were here and alive, but damn, he was so nervous you'd vanish.
It wasn't too long before he caught the whole story. That you were from another planet or dimension and just…showed up. He supposed it made sense why he hadn't seen you in so long. You were somewhere outside of his reach. He could only imagine how lonely it had been. If it was anything like what he'd gone through, it was a horribly painful existence. Going lifetime to lifetime without the man you'd bonded your soul too. His heart broke thinking about it.
"Father? Is everything alright?"
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Silver's concerned whisper. He'd been staring at you again.
"Mm. Yes, I'm alright," he took a bite of his lunch to prove it, which did little to assuage his sweet boy, but he still nodded and looked at his own lunch.
"That's Diasomnia," he heard from Trey Clover, who had been telling you all about the other dorms.
He rattled off a couple more insignificant facts about the thorn fairy, some of them incorrect, much to Lilia's amusement.
Then he saw the red headed freshman playfully bump shoulders with you.
"I gotta take care of something," he said to his lunch table, before poofing over to yours.
"Were you talking about me?" He giggled as you shrieked at his upside down form that had materialized between the two of you.
You took a moment to catch your bearings.
"What the actual fuck," you breathed.
"I heard you talking about Diasomnia, and me, and my young Lord so I thought I'd join the fun."
"You heard all that?" The red headed freshman asked incredulously.
Lilia turned to him, feeling the joy drain from his eyes, that is, until the freshman shivered. Then Lilia had some sick glee return to him
The conversation continued casually, you pretty silent for most of it, Eventually, he figured continuing the conversation with you would do nothing. At least with an audience. He had a whole year, probably longer, considering the headmage was useless. He had time to reconnect with you.
After popping back to his own table, grinning like a lovesick fool, he was met with Silver and Sebek's concerned gazes.
"What? It's fun to prank the freshman, fu fu fu!" He laughed. They both shared a glance before shrugging and continuing dinner in peace. 
….
"Did you hear? Housewarden Rosehearts overblotted."
The murmurs were all over the school, and Lilia wanted to kick himself. Of course you'd get into trouble. You always did. Even in a world where the mortality rate was so low, you somehow were so hard to keep alive! 
"Sevens, Y/N, why is it so hard to hold onto you?" He whispered to himself, as he watched you wander the school with your two freshmen friends.
He didn't have time to think too hard about it before,
"Lilia!"
"Fa-Lilia! Lord Malleus is-"
"SILVER HAS ALLOWED OUR LORD TO GO MISSING AGAIN!"
He sighed inwardly, before throwing a final glance your way. If you ever did remember your past lives, he would definitely ask if this is what you wanted when you both talked about the family you were going to start. Not that he'd trade it for anything, but it felt unfair that you were getting out of all the hard work.
….
"Their next target is Malleus Draconia."
Malleus had a tendency to never actually be informed about housewarden things, but the one time someone actually came looking for him, Lilia selfishly decided to take the meeting himself.
Only to be told that his boy was likely to be the target of the Savannaclaw Housewarden at tomorrow's event.
"That's a rather large accusation, prefect."
Of course he believed you. But he wanted to hear your voice again. Keep you talking to him. Keep your eyes on him. He simultaneously felt like dirt, but also like the happiest man to ever exist.
"But it's true!" You cried. "He's been taking people down with his signature spell for weeks now."
Lilia leaned back, pretending to think. Not that the thorn fairy's general had to actually think twice about that. He just…needed to stare at you for a moment.
"I have an idea," he muttered. "That is, if you're willing to listen."
You nodded, and he did his best to hold back a grin.
….
"Pearce." His voice whispered in the darkness.
After months of taking the night shift to guard him, you'd learned to pick up his emotions from his voice, and the shimmer of his glowing pink eyes. This was a new one though. If you had to guess, it was a mix between desperation and fear. 
"Evening," you said, trying not to let this deter you.
"Pearce."
"What's wrong?" You said, giving into morbid curiosity.
"Run away with me."
You stiffened.
"Li-"
You heard shifting, and his hands were cupping your face, his face slightly more illuminated, but features still obscured.
"How long have you been able to-"
"These ropes could never hold me. Pearce, run away with me. The queen's army is coming to the castle. If I'm there to let them in, great. If I'm not, they'll just double their forces. They're all going to die either way. But at least we could-"
You cupped his cheeks and softly kissed him. He stiffened before returning the kiss. Softly. Tenderly.
You separated and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes so that you couldn't see the heartbreak in his.
"I can't."
"Don't say that," you heard him choke on his words, as he clutched your face harder.
"You have a duty to your people, I have one to mine. I swore to protect my king. And if I have to die to fulfill my oath-"
"Stop."
"-then I'll die happy."
"Y/N! Wake up!"
You groaned as Grim slapped your face with his soft paws. 
"What? What time is it?"
"We gotta help those Diasomnia guys, remember?"
"Right," you sat up and rubbed your eyes blearily. 
On top of the already weird dreams about lions, now you were having some weird fantasy tragedy dream. Although, that story sounded interesting. If you remembered the dream later, you'd have to write it down and write a book or something.
"Why would they want to go over the plan so early in the day?" You groaned again
….
"Malleus Draconia is twice the king you will ever be!"
"Lilia, shut up," he heard you whisper. Of course it would be your voice snapping him back to reality. He'd lived a long time, but he'd only ever witnessed one overblot. If the ink rising in the air was anything to go by, Kingscholar was about to be the second one he witnessed.
Why did he just say that? Was it because of his love for his adopted son? His anger at the injustices done on the students? The need to show off so you could see how cool he was?
"Vanrouge!" Housewarden Rosehearts snapped. "Go get the headmage."
He watched Riddle pull his pen. He should really stay. This was partially his fault. And it was so damn hard to keep you alive…
"Lilia, please, we need backup," you pleaded. Sevens, those eyes. He'd kill for those eyes.
He nodded and poofed away, praying he was back fast enough to ensure you stayed alive.
….
He was always terrified when he saw you sleeping, no matter what life time it was. He'd seen you stop breathing far too many times, so it was always the first thing he looked for; the tell tale slow filling of your lungs.
Of course it hadn't been the overblot that had put you here. It would be something as simple as a disc to the head.
"Enjoying the view?" You croaked as you slowly woke up, causing him to snicker.
"I wanted to apologize, but you were preoccupied."
"Is preoccupied the medical term for a concussion?" You winced.
He laughed, a boisterous laugh that he hadn't released for several generations.
When he'd calmed himself momentarily, you sat up a bit, and gave him a soft smile.
"You don't need to apologize. I get it, you were upset that he was insulting your friend."
Friend? He could burst into a fit of laughter all over again. He supposed, you did believe he was a normal college student, so friend would be the accurate word for him and Malleus. Normally.
"Uh, yeah," he said, fighting back another laugh. "Still, I swear I'm far more intelligent than that normally."
He was really trying so hard to dig himself out of this hole.
"It's college. You're allowed to be a dumbass from time to time."
He bit his lip as he nodded. Was it truly unethical to just tell you everything? To just tell you you were supposed to be with him because you always used to be? To tell you that he was far older than anyone you'd ever met? That you were far older?
It would be unethical.  You had to make your own choices, unimpaired by him. He just had to have faith that you'd choose him. He had no reason to believe otherwise! You'd always chosen him before.
Why should it be different this time around?
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loving-august · 1 year
Text
๑𓈒 ' . 𑇛 I'D STILL CHOOSE YOU.
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PAIRINGS. diluc ragnvindr x fem! reader
SYNOPSIS. in which diluc notices your worries about the people around you.
GENRE. angst to fluff hurt/comfort
WC. 1.05k!!
WARNINGS. none, slight profanity, insecurity, gossips, bodyshaming
NOTES. hello! this fic will be new expansion to my fandoms hehe I hope you guys will like it just as much I enjoyed writing this fic. blame diluc bc of him I made a decision to create for genshin characters smh /j + reblogs are highly appreciated!
LINKS. navigaion | genshin impact masterlist | taglist form
๑𓈒 ' . 𑇛 REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
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Being the richest bachelor in mondstat, Diluc is expected to do what nobles do. The way he greets, acts, and accomplishes every job perfectly. He received a vision at the age of 10 and became the youngest captain in the knights of favonius at the age of 14. Of course, he is now just a mere businessman taking care of the winery in the morning or protecting the entire mondstat at night time. His past is yet to be told.
Rich parents of noble women across nations often visit him in hopes to have their daughter as the groom. Yet, he refuses to tell them as he tells them that he has no sole interest in having a relationship with any women. Or so he thought.
You happened to see him in his dark knight duties one fateful evening. You were ambushed by hillichurls while you were on your way to the outskirts of mondstat, your home. You came out from work a bit too late than usual.
You accidentally punched him as you thought it was some treasure hoarder coming at you. You apologised so sincerely that it wasn't some bad guy.
"Master diluc?" You asked.
Shit. He cursed himself.
"Than-"
"Don't say a word about this." He sternly said. And you did.
You scratched your neck awkwardly, "I will. Thank you again!" You walked away from him. To be honest he was scary earlier, barbatos how could this happen to me?
Little did you both know, a certain bard was witnessing the scene. A playful smirk grew into his face. "Huh, may the wind guide each other." He whispered. It's a rare scene to see Diluc in this kind of situation. Maybe the dear archon barbatos, also known as venti would be part of playing cupid.
A time has passed since your first encounter with Diluc, Venti's cupid duties came into reality. He was very happy for you and Diluc and he even played a small tune for the two of you. As much as Diluc appreciated the gesture, he would not change the way he treats venti in his tavern due to his wine addiction. As well as Kaeya, the wonder duo never fails to give Diluc a headache.
Soon enough, you opened your eyes to the noble world. There is a lot of catching up to do. All the stereotypes were shown on to you, the mannerisms on talking, acting, and greetings to fellow nobles. It was hard. As someone like you had no experience on such acts.
You found yourself in your shared rooms with your lover. With your eyes all puffy and red due to crying. You couldn't take it anymore.
"How can Master Diluc find someone so…common.."
"I expected him to choose a noblewoman from liyue."
The voices of other people in mondstat broke your heart. To hear such a thing about Diluc, you felt responsible. Instead of making him happy by his side, you could only be giving him a bad name by just existing beside him.
It felt so wrong.
What you didn’t was that you fell asleep on the vanity where you cried yourself with dried tears on your cheeks.
Diluc just recently returned home from his darknight duties. You were completely aware of his schedule as if its the back of your palm. Why would you know all about it? Of course diluc would tell you things about him, he’s that devoted to you. Adeline, the head maid of the manor, greeted the master of the manor. “Good evening Master Diluc.”
“Good evening to you too,” Diluc greeted back.
He went straight to your shared rooms, not giving any mind of eating for tonight. He was busy eliminating abyss mages around mondstat. When he opened the door, first he saw you sleeping uncomfortably on the vanity table. He immediately removed his coat and placed it on some chair and carried you carefully. Making sure that you were not awake. How long have you been asleep? Your neck is probably sore because of the restricted sleeping position you were in.
He sighed as he saw you still in your morning clothes. He can’t imagine wearing all the heavy clothing from daylight to night time. That's why you've woken up? "Did I wake you up darling?" He asked.
you got up and he followed. "No, you didn't. I just felt my position changed." You groggily replied while rubbing your eyes.
Diluc was observing you. He noticed that you were secretly wiping off the direct tears on your face while pretending to rub your eyes after you had just woken up from a long slumber.
He was worried. Maybe he has been busy lately since he has a wine business to attend to. Not only the wine business but also his secret duties at night time at mondstat. The abyss order has been showing up lately.
"y/n, can I ask you a question?" He started. You looked at your hands, not looking at his worried eyes laid upon you. "uh, sure. What are you trying to ask?" You replied.
Something is not sitting right. The way you said it was as if you changed your sentence and the way you speak. this is not the y/n he used to talk to. A hint of guilt punched at diluc. He HAS been busy. He should reschedule his time for you after this. He felt accountable for your well-being, since he was the one who asked you to live with him and as his lover, it is his duty to take care of you.
"Is something bothering you lately?" He asked. There, he asked for it. Although he expects you to lie to him. You can't lie to him after all.
"No, nothing's wrong dearest, I'm just tired..that's all," you answered and gave him a small smile.
Diluc uses his thumb to wipe off rye excess tears from your face, "No you're not. It breaks my heart whenever you lie to me. Tell me the truth my love, whatever you say is valid, after all it made you feel this way," He slowly opened his arms for you to be able to rest on his chest while wrapping his arms around you, "if you feel like I'm slipping away from you, don't worry."
"I'd still choose you."
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© 2022 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.
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sgiandubh · 5 months
Note
Hi, I don't know if you understand me or go through this, I would like to know your feeling about it.
After all this circus (which I can't take anymore and after a few years in the fandom) I can't stand Caitríona anymore. I swear I try, I swear I try to get excited about her projects. I swear I try to understand her reasons, her anger, her antipathy towards us all these years. For a long time I managed to suppress this sad feeling I feel for her, but now it screams. I can not anymore.
On the other hand, I still support Sam, even more than I should, because he, along with her, plays the main role in the narrative and is not a saint. I think these feelings would be the signal to leave the ship. I no longer admire her, I no longer miss her, at least on social media, I no longer even want to see her face.
I feel bad for feeling this way, I don't know what to do. Have you ever felt like that? And before you start offending me, I'll tell you: I'm not anti, only or whatever. I am someone who paid a lot of attention to this narrative and ended up hurt, very hurt by them, by her specially…
Dear Feel Bad Anon,
I was just about to go to bed after a very, very long and dense day, but your question stopped me in my tracks. Story of my life, really: that banging on the dorm's door at midnight ('it's vile X, we just broke up, help') - ah, the memories. So, I will not let you down.
First of all, thank you for this ask. It is a genuine one, I know it. It takes a lot of honesty to write it down without cackle, hysteria and the everlasting 'they owe me' refrain (no, they don't owe anybody anything, because, Anon, do you owe anybody anything when you are that much in love? I am sure you don't give a hoot about Aunt Y and Neighbor Z, Anon, and fuck them and their curiosity, eh?). And, my goodness, you really do sound exhausted, here.
Take a good look at this pic I took in Mandalay (see post below) of a Yama Zatdaw (Ramayana) puppet show:
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All these public ten years are summed up in here: the puppeteers (TPTB), the puppets (S&C) and the convenient prop ( T) in the middle.
Where are the private ten years? I could think of this Amarapura pic, taken the day after the puppet show:
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And that is ok, Anon. It's them. Their lives. Their love. We are just peepers through a keyhole, in here: let's try and do it gracefully.
You don't like C anymore? S couldn't give a damn about how you feel, Anon, and forgive me if I sound brutal. He loves her and he already did the unthinkable for her. C does give a damn about you, however. Not because she cares about you, but because she probably thinks your intelligence and your questioning endanger her narrative and put at risk all the negotiated perks. This is why she thought intelligent to bark at you and publicly insult you: by a simple zealot reflex, her part of the bargain. It has nothing to do with her private truth. You are disappointed by a puppet, not the real C. Or, using this time Plato's Allegory of the Cave, you are mad at the silhouettes reflected on the walls of that cave, not at the people whose reflections you see - those people are outside the cave.
Get out of that mental cave, Anon. Stop racking your brains off trying to give definitive answers that cannot be honestly given with the amount of information we have. Stop obsessing about a visibly curated social media presence, online times and all this shit - they mean very little, especially at this point in time. Trust your heart and your intuition. Trust your life experience. Trust yourself, not me. All this side of the fandom can offer you is based on our own life paths and street smarts. Do I think it's legit? Of course, otherwise I'd not be here or I'd be a pervert. Do I think that together we'd be a step closer to what really is? Oh, by all means. But you are the only sovereign master of the course, here. You are the only one able to choose between believing or rejecting, staying on deck or jumping ship.
I chose to be interested in the puppeteers, Anon. The paper trail. The minute intricacies. The boring details Mordor does not want to see or doesn't know how to translate in simple English. That is really what keeps me going and that is something I will never publicly trade. The more I look into it, the clearer the picture is. Oh, for sure, I take great pleasure in seeing and discussing the script inconsistencies - don't we all? But to me and as I see it, this is the tip of the iceberg. The bar I set myself for public happenings, statements and all the shit show is very low. It avoids undue disappointment and even allows me to be relaxed about it. Not always. Not a perfect strategy. But it is my way of managing it and so far, it works.
Take at least a day off Tumblr. Think of it as detox. I can guarantee you will see it way clearer. I wish you well, Anon. And I really hope my long, long answer helped at least a little bit.
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Text
the boy is mine (H's Version)
hi, no long no see in this fandom. but @carolmunson put out a call for writers and I wanted to dive in! see her prompt: here.
It's a romantic night in and that means that sometimes a lot of feelings come out.
Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader
CW: This is a lot of fluff, but some minor heated moments. Post S4, cannon divergent.
______________
The day was boiling--no breeze to cut through the stiff air. But now, as the evening settles, the curtains from the open windows billow just a little. The air is a whisper on the back of your neck as you bring your knees up to your chest. The notebook slips down just a little on your thighs, but you push it back up to get the right angle. Eddie will undoubtedly have a snide remark about your position, but you know the moment he settles back down on the couch, he too will be curled up. Most likely around you, and you’re praying the night gets just a little bit cooler to withstand the walking furnace that is Eddie. 
“Fuck me,” Eddie groans. 
You look up from the work you’ve been doing in coloring in the drawing Eddie sketched out earlier in the day to find Eddie frantically swinging open cabinet doors. He opens another door, without closing the other. Disaster flashes before your eyes. Stitches, a bloody puddle on the floor, should Eddie not be careful and--
Thunk! “Son of a bitch!” Eddie howls, holding the back of his head. In all his hurry, he popped up from the cabinets at the bottom only to smack his head on the corner of one of the open cabinet doors. 
“How many fingers am I holding up?” you call out with a giggle. 
“Looks like 16,” Eddie calls out, eyes narrowed in a squint. There’s only four fingers up. 
“Hmm, I think you’re fine,” you laugh but push up off the couch. There’s the slight shuffle, the almost silent peel of feet off the tiled over kitchen floor. Part of it due to the whatever waxy cleaner you’ve convinced Wayne to use. “Let me see,” you command gently after your approach.
“Careful now, I’m fragile,” Eddie pouts but pulls hand away from the spot. 
“Gonna need a flashlight to get through this thicket,” you tease but gingerly touch at his scalp. There’s nothing damp so you don’t think there’s blood. Eddie tenses under your touch. “Sorry,” you whisper. It doesn’t stop the assessment, but you are more mindful of the pressure you’re using. 
“It’s okay,” Eddie returns his voice soft like yours. 
“What are you even looking for?” So far, you don’t think he broke skin. One good thing, but you are a little worried about something deeper too. 
“A cup. I could’ve sworn I did dishes,” Eddie huffs. “I’m running out of, like nice cups.” You watch Eddie point to the plastic cup on the counter--ones that you’re pretty sure were holding some sort of soda from a gas station in their first life. “Those are the only ones left.”
“Honey,” you coo, urging Eddie to turn around. He doesn't budge, but you press into his back, right above his hip and he turns then. “Those cups are fine.”
“No they’re not,” he sighs. 
“And what makes them not okay, huh?”
“You deserve your Coke in a chalice. Not the 7-11 trash.”
“Perhaps I consider 7-11 cups a chalice,” you return, pressing Eddie’s cheeks together. His lips bubble at the force and you plant a kiss on them. He tastes vaguely like vanilla. The frosting off the cupcakes you two shared earlier still paints his lips sweet even though it’s been a couple hours since they’ve been consumed. 
“You know you don’t and so do I,” Eddie whispers against your lips. His hands find your hips. 
“Hmm, I think I could be convinced.”
“You sure they’re okay?”
“Cups won’t ruin the night, I promise.” 
You don’t need anything fancy. You never have. But you get it. You know Eddie’s always going to want to give you the best. The thing you just wish you could convince himself off is that it’s his best that matters. Whatever Eddie gives you is the best because it’s him--it’s him giving it to you. But you don’t think the words will penetrate. Eddie’s hard headed in his own way, stubborn to his core when he wants to be so you hope that actions do speak louder than words. 
You seal your lips around his again and hum into the kiss when Eddie tugs you in closer. He’d promised a night in--dinner, movies, laughs, anything and everything as long as it was just the two of you. And he’d delivered thus far. Pizza had been called and delivered promptly. When you asked if he had any more Cokes from the case you brought over a week ago, he proudly declared he’d left the last two just for you. Your requests for a cup is what started this, but cups don’t mean a thing when all you’re thinking about is how the scent of Eddie presses against your nostrils and into your lungs like heaven. 
You’ve missed him--missed this. Your new job took more time than your old one. Not a bad thing considering that it was only an extra hour, but it meant having a new routine. It meant one hour less in your day for you to get through the slog of laundry, and dishes, and bills, and errands so that you could sit like a schoolgirl on the phone, twirling your fingers around the cord to talk to Eddie on the phone when you couldn’t visit him. Weekends now are more sacred than ever and you cherish the thought of being able to spend quality time with your boy. 
Eddie’s fingers press through the cotton of your shorts. He tugs you closer, and closer, and closer to his body. He’s warm--as always. But beyond that, beyond the wild curls that always call out to your fingers to be tugged on, or just caressed, Eddie is real beneath your fingers. Through the cotton of his t-shirt, you know what lies beneath. But you are grateful that the t-shirt is still warm. Arousal settles into your stomach, tightening your muscles as Eddie drags his fingers up your spine. But you pull back, the wet echoing smack of a broken kiss hanging between two of you as you both pant. 
“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem,” you laugh as Eddie’s teasing touch moves further and further south on your body. 
“Maybe I’m looking for a problem,” he teases. 
“I am looking for a cup to put my Coke in to have pizza with my boyfriend while we watch movies we’ve seen a billion times. Because you are trouble.”
“You started it,” Eddie squawks indignantly. “You kissed first!”
His hand doesn’t stop traveling. He’s cupping you over the shorts and the ache hits you--bone deep but you don’t falter in your resolve. “Pizza. Movie.” It’s all you say before peeling yourself from Eddie’s hold. “Bring the chalices please,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk back to the couch. 
Eddie snorts but you hear his shuffled steps behind you and you know he is following. The lid to the pizza box is flipped back and the melted cheese greets you with a hefty waft. You grab a slice, the cheese pulling slowly away from its neighboring pieces. Eddie grabs a napkin and holds it just under the slice which you can only assume is threatening to drip grease onto the carpet or your lap. 
“Three good things,” Eddie commands as he reaches for his own slice, asking for the details of three good things that happened in your day. 
You hum around your bite, the pizza still hot just a little as you recount the day. “I’m no longer on the probationary period at work as of yesterday which is great. No one’s breathing down my back anymore. I finally got those jeans hemmed. And I get to enjoy pizza with my boyfriend. Three things--your turn.”
“I got the interview for the record shop,” Eddie starts. “I actually finished a drawing, speaking of which, I swear if you get grease on it,” he laughs pulling the notebook from your lap and tossing it floor away from the coffee table. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you rush out. “I’m still working on coloring it though. Forgot.”
“No harm, no foul. And lastly, I, too, am getting to enjoy pizza with my lovely partner, who did not do such a great job at making sure I wasn’t concussed.”
“I’m newly licensed to sell insurance. I am not licensed to make sure you’re not a walking threat to your own safety.”
He presses a kiss to your cheek--wet and greasy, but you don’t shy away from it. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Oh, I know,” you laugh, turning to look at Eddie. His gaze is soft, big eyes dripping with sincerity. You think you can feel the adoration radiating off him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I love you, you know.”
Your first inclination is to shove it off with a joke. But you can imagine how well that would go--not well at all. “You’re going to make me blush,” you huff, ducking your head. 
“Aw, no, don’t be like that. Let me see it. Let me see you blush,” Eddie laughs, reaching out to bring your head up by a gentle tug on your chin. 
Your face is hot; you can feel it warming the longer Eddie takes you in. His gaze is intense, eyes taking in everything from hairline to chin. You watch the flick of his gaze, as he stares down at your nose, back up to your eyes. His smile is soft and sweet, like the stroke of his thumb over your bottom lip. 
“I’m going to make you proud,” Eddie whispers unlike his normal bravado. Where you know Eddie carries himself with the mask, the loud and brash man unafraid, the quietest remarks are the ones that usually send you into a flatline. 
“You should make yourself proud,” you correct. You’d be a flimsy goal--something akin to trash billowing in a strong wind. It could change all in an instant.
“Making you proud makes me proud.”
“I’m already proud of you.” 
It’s Eddie’s turn to duck, hair falling into a wavy curtain around his face. You discard your crust--which you’re more than likely never going to fish--to a corner of the box and find Eddie’s face behind his hair. “No, you can’t hide either.” Your thumb strokes along his jaw and his eyes flutter close. “Tell me,” you return softly but it’s clear you want an answer, “Do you like that? Being told you’re making someone proud?”
“And you’re telling me you don’t?” Eddie scoffs. 
“Oh, no, I do. But I just want to hear you say it.”
“I like being told I’m making someone proud.” The sentence wavers at first, like Eddie might not be sure he can even get the words out. But the end is strong. Like the mere utterance is enough to solidify the truth within. 
“I’ll make sure I tell you more often then, okay?”
“Okay.”
His gaze drifts down and you know what he’s asking for, so you press in, lips sealing his again. A kiss soft enough that even you think twice if it’s real or not. Eddie hums this time, when you pull away, his head pressing into your shoulder. You can feel the smile on his face as his lips brush over your bicep. 
“Your slices are going to get cold,” you tease when Eddie stays buried in your shoulder for another minute. The third slice you’d been reaching for will go cold too, but that matters much less. 
“Let it,” he hums, burrowing now in your armpit. 
You grab the TV remote before you reach behind yourself to make sure the throw pillow is in place against the arm of the couch for an added layer of cushion. Once you’re sure that it’s in the position you want it, you recline back and open your arms for Eddie to crawl into. He wastes not a second to settle his head onto your chest. 
“Good thing we’ve got microwaves now, right?” you tease, pressing play for the VHS.
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bluethude · 2 years
Note
Hi I just wanted to say I like your storys and I enjoy reading them and if you don't mind I would like to request a pregnant reader with her lovely caring wife (aka beidou/ningguan/ei/miko/kokomi Sepperate) ofc u don't have to do all of them if you don't want to or if it's to much I just thought this would be a cute story yk. And yeah I'm sorry if I had any grammar mistakes englisch is not my first language hehe:)
Hey there !
Thanks for reading what I can write and thank for the compliment, it really means a lot ! Sure I can do this, it is a very cute and sweet idea !
I hope you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed my other works ! And don't worry, English isn't my first language either, besides we all do mistakes so don't worry about potential grammar mistakes !
Requested : Yes
Characters : Beidou, Ei, Kokomi, Ningguang and Yae Miko, separately
Summary : Beidou, Ei, Kokomi, Ningguang and Yae Miko with a pregnant reader !
Word count : 2095 words
Warning : quick mention of death (in Ei's part), other than that, nothing
​​​​💫​​Rules and list of fandom💫​
​​​​✉️​Asks are open​​​✉️​
✨​Let's go ! ✨
BEIDOU
As much as she loves you and wants to be with you all the time, she asks you to stay on land.
I mean, you're pregnant and what if they encounter a sea monster or something ?
Besides, on lang, there's plenty of doctors you can see in case there's a problem.
Anyway, since you can't go with her on sea, she goes on one or two trips at sea before staying on land during pregnancy. She will just plan the Alcor's trips from land and give all the work outside Liyue to her crew. If it's business inside the nation, she'll do it herself, as she still needs to do something to provide for you and your kid to be !
Completely overprotective, no one can touch you except her. With what happened in her childhood, I assume she's very protective of people who accept her as she is no matter what kind of luck she might bring. So the least problem, she will not be calm until she has confirmation that it's really fine.
If a "Karen" type of person is messing with you (with how many stories you can hear about them and pregnant women), trust me, she'll have to hold back to not put this person on life support for the rest of their life.
If at first you're staying at Liyue's Harbor, toward the end of the pregnancy, you go to Qingce Village, to be sure to relax and knowing the eledery people would do anything to help you and they probably would also know what to do if something happens.
Will totally bring you some trinkets and gifts she found or bought not this far. She would go to Liyue Harbor from time to time, to make sure everything is fine with her crew. Always bring a small gift, for you or a new toy for the kid !
Would totally carry anything for you, you're forbidden from lifting more than whatever she might see as too heavy for you (which is a bit of everything)
Her heart melts when she sees the eldery people of the village helping you out with bringing you what you might need. Even if they ask you if you would need help looking after the child or if you would like some clothes for the baby or you, or offering some food. She's very grateful for their help.
Will be the useless partner when you start to deliver. Kinda, she panics a bit too much, but she will be there to hold your hand. Well you might have broke her hand during the delivery but it's not like she mind. She knows worst and also, she knows your pain is greater than hers.
"You okay, y/n ? Oh, let me help you with this ! What do you mean you can carry it ? You're already carrying our child ! No need to do more !"
EI/RAIDEN SHOGUN
Overprotective.
She already got the trauma from the loss of her sister, no way she's gonna take any risk at losing you or your child.
She keeps your pregnancy hidden, for safety reasons.
Yae Miko is probably the kid's godmother.
Kujou Sara will be the child's fierce guardian and would be honored to teach them how to use a bow or be their preceptor.
Anyway, thanks to the kitsune, some people knew you were pregnant and the whole news spread across Inazuma.
Before you can do anything, there's a big feast to celebrate !
You're not mad at Yae Miko though. Not like you can blame her or any citizen, it was bound to happen at some point.
The entire nation congratulates you. Even Sangonomiya's shrine does it, as this new life would probably be another chance to finally establish durable peace since this new life would be the start of something new.
During pregnancy, Ei is very overprotective and never leaves you. She would let Yae Miko do half of the Shogun's work, to allow her to spend more time with you.
Given she's not human, she doesn't really get how a pregnant body works, but will ask questions to help you better. She will also read books about it, to be sure.
Brings in whatever food you crave, no matter how weird, but will mostly give you rich food, with a lot of fat and vitamins to be sure the baby will be healthy.
While Ei doesn't plan to step down, a healthy child will ensure a healthy heir in case something happens to her.
When the delivery comes around, she's there, in silence, giving you her hand. She's silent because she knows words won't do anything with the pain you're feeling. At least, that's one of the reasons she gives you and the only one she's willing to voice.
The other reason was she was silent because she knew there was a certain percentage of chance you die during delivery and she was actually praying that her sister would protect you during delivery and if you pass, she hoped Makoto would take good care of you when she couldn't.
"Hello dearest. How do you feel today ? Uh ? You want a special mushroom pizza and ... Salty dangos ? Well, as you wish."
KOKOMI
She is... Very stressed out.
She has to deal with Watatsumi Island's affair, the aftermath of war, the formation of a new army, the negotiation with the shogunate and all.
And now your pregnancy, which doesn't help her much with the amount or stress.
At this point, Gorou steps in and deals with most of Kokomi's duty on the Island or at least as much as he can do to help her and also to allow her to take time for you.
Kokomi is grateful for it.
Well, the news of your pregnancy spreads fast and the entire island is congratulating you !
Kokomi will help you anytime and all the time and the moment you start to feel unwell, she'll heal you and soothe you ! Probably very good at foot massage and will do some for you !
Starts to plan with you some education and perfect names for the kid. Please let her educate the child about strategy and shrine duty. It's not much and a kid would have a lot of free time since those things are taught when the person is mature enough to assimilate and learn such things. And it is quite easy to learn.
Probably read some strategy books to the baby inside of you. It's never too early to learn and at least, they would be able to recognise her voice !
Gorou actually helps you both without any problem and would gladly go search for a future nanny for the kid to be. Or give you anything like clothes or toys.
Bold of him to assume he won't be the kid's nanny and cool doggo uncle in the future.
Anyway, since the Divine Priestess is about to have a kid, people give you and Kokomi a lot of support, food, clothes, toys, a children's book and everything you need.
Chances are Kokomi is helping you and doctors during delivery. She talks to you and tries to take a bit of the pain away.
Heals you or at least helps your body to recover after the delivery.
"Here you are y/n ! I was looking for you, some villagers gifted us some baby clothes and other items and I was thinking maybe you would like to see what they gave us ?"
NINGGUANG
Honestly, she would hire the best doctors and maids to look after you the second she learns you're pregnant.
She's not worried. You both talked about it and it was bound to happen sooner or later with all the procedures.
Anyway, she won't stop working, since she now has to deal with Liyue's new era and guide it through the change.
The news spread immediately and all of Liyue sent you congratulations.
The adepti also sent each something, not that they cared, but they knew Ningguang was someone they couldn't ignore and if the was establishing her dynasty, then let it be, Liyue was changing and maybe this child will be the star of a new generation, the first generation to be born and live during this new era of men.
She would come to you quite often throughout the day to check if everything is good.
Would absolutely gift you the finest gifts and find the best things for the child to be.
Would be happy to see all the support, but she knows that a lot of the support isn't genuine and is people's attempt at getting in her good graces. Well, except when it comes to Liyue Qixing and Adepit's gifts.
Keqing, Yelan and Ganyu will be around a lot, excited for the baby. They all would be the aunts.
Keqing isn't exactly good with children, but she would be willing to make an effort for Ningguang's child, while Yelan is the cool rich aunt who's rarely there but each time she comes would gift something cool, while Ganyu will be the soft aunty who you could go to, to talk about anything.
Probably asks Yun Jin to be the future kid's teacher into fine arts because she trusts the young lady to do well into transmitting the delicate art of theater through education. Ningguang won't have an uncultured child as hers.
During delivery, she is in the room, sitting a bit away. She doesn't hold your hand as she needs her hand to keep working, but her presence is enough to make you feel a bit better. Besides, her being closer would bother the doctors who are well more versed into assisting someone in labor than her.
"Hi, y/n. Do you feel well ? Do you crave anything particular or do you need something else ? Maybe you want me to take some time off for today ?"
YAE MIKO
Well, her attitude doesn't change a lot.
She will tease you a lot, she loves your reactions with your hormones ! At least she has a whole new field to explore with her teasing.
Honestly, the entire shrine would be helping you with your pregnancy, and, with the news spreading a lot of people come all the way to the Grand Narukami Shrine.
The shrine maidens will offer you some predictions !
She will be there no matter what, after all it's not like she has something else to do.
Will pick up a lot of children's books for the kid to be. Maybe a lot of authors in this line will try to offer her their own books in an attempt to have a good relationship with Yae Publishing House.
Wonders if the child would be a kitsune or a human, maybe a hybrid, but how would that work ?
She would be excited and curious to explore what the child would be, so many possibilities ! And so many ways to tease them !
For sure she would tease you saying Ei was already a child so she's used to handling kids and babies.
Speaking of which, it is probably the only one Yae Miko would fully trust to be around you during pregnancy.
Ei is happy for Yae Miko and hopes for the child to grow healthy.
Ei would be that nice aunty who brings and gives whatever the kid wants while Yae Miko would be the teasing mom with some strict rules.
Yae Miko would want to teach the child how to tease as soon as they would be old enough. But she would also love to teach him about how to use a vision if he's granted one. But she'll have to wait for the birth, first
Would prepare herself anything you crave for ! Even the weirdest food, she'll happily prepare it ! It is a very good experience, sometimes you even cook together this weird dish you might want.
About the weird food, she thinks it's funny to order it actually and she loves seeing the cooks' faces when she puts an order for a udon noodle soup with a Special Mushroom Pizza's taste and deep fried tofu.
During delivery, she will hold your hand and distract you a bit by teasing you. It annoys and distracts you. She probably also let the shrine maidens do their job at helping you deliver.
"What is it, my dear ? Oh, you want me to read a book to you ? How cute. What book do you want to hear today ?"
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ayamari-no-goshi · 2 months
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I've gotten some questions regarding whether or not I've abandoned fics (specifically the DP x DC ones)
I haven't, but please understand that it's a hobby. Sometimes life doesn't allow me to have time or the energy to want to work on my projects.
Let me just explain the BS that I dealt with in 2023 that's caused writing to go on a back burner for multiple reasons. These are in approximate order.
discovering a friendship was super toxic and person had gotten dangerous to be around. I still have to be very careful visiting a friend who still lives in his area because no one knows how he’ll respond (2023 started off great)
Surgery in Feb… I accidentally re-opened my stitches in March and never felt it happen
Harassment at work that eventually resulted in someone being banned… and the cops being called
First ocular migraine, which happened at worked and scared the shit out of me
First emergency at work that required a 911 call. (The officer that responded before the paramedics seriously looked like Dick Grayson. While my tech saw him too, I’m not convinced he was real)
I cut my finger open on a sword and had to get stitches. Don’t worry about it. I don’t
Trying to be emotional support for friends when online stressors kicked into high gear
Surprise DA inspection at work
Surprise FBI visit at work
Nearly getting caught up in a landslide in Scotland while on vacation (weird things like this are not abnormal when I travel. Also saw something weird in Loch Ness that same day. I think it was just a log though)
People saying disparaging things since I don’t particularly fit into the normal mold of one of my fandoms
Massive depressive episode
Probable concussion from sword - don’t worry about it
Set off DA investigation 1 at work
Set off DA investigation 2 at work
Was part of a sting operation at work
Hosted friends from out of state and country (one of the few good things from 2023)
My cat sat on my laptop and damaged it
Harassment and banishment round 2
Family member died and another ended up in the hospital on the same day for unrelated reasons
My fencing studio closed and I’m not adjusting well to the new one
Bullshit from work that’s just been non-stop since I set up and opened a pharmacy for them.
Honorable mention from 2024: a fire sprinkler pipe froze and broke and ended up flooding my pharmacy in Jan
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