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#choices they were making with their own rules they were making didn't make a lot of sense. though i hear it gets better if season one so
oveliagirlhaditright · 9 months
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-randomly sees a screenshot of jamie and lily from the city of bones movie, where they seem to embody jace and clary, and am once again sad that we didn't get a city of ashes movie-
#like. to be clear. i KNOW that the city of bones movie has flaws--and i can tell you what they all are--but for me at least the positives#outweigh the negatives#and one of those things is that the cast really was perfect imo (and a lot of other people's opinions too)#though that's not to insult the shadowhunters cast at all of course. i think they're great and did the best with what they were give#i. personally. just don't really like shadowhunters because of how much they changed from the books#and even outside of that--if i ignored book to show comparisons--at least with the first season (the only one i watched) a lot of the#choices they were making with their own rules they were making didn't make a lot of sense. though i hear it gets better if season one so#maybe i should give it another chance sometime...#but back to city of ashes... i feel like. if city of bones had done well. city of ashes could have been better than city of bones and even#more book accurate (since that was some fans' issues with the first film) since the studio would have realized there was an audience there#and to take it more seriously. we've seen that kind of thing before. like with how the twilight movies actually became more book accurate#after the first film was a success#though that's not the world we live in of course. -sighs- oh well#maybe someday we'll get a really good and accurate tmi adaptation#i'm also looking forward to/cautiously optimistic about the the infernal devices show. PLEASE don't mess it up. PLEASE#that's my--and many--fans' favorite of the shadow world series. and it could/should be SO good. PLEASE!
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hard--headed--woman · 2 months
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Something happened in my English class that I think perfectly sums up how so many people don't understand feminism.
At the beginning of each class, we have to talk about something in english for two minutes. This woman decided to talk about radical feminism in South Korea. She explained how feminists there decide not to date men, have sex with men, marry men and have kids with men anymore. It was very interesting and well explained, and I was happy to see another woman from my uni talking about feminism. From what I understood, she's not Korean but goes to Korea often and has a lot of radical feminists friends there.
Then another woman raises her hand and asks "don't you think these rules are a little bit tough?". I roll my eyes, but the other woman is confused. She frowns. "What rules? What are you talking about?". "I mean, the not dating men rule. Isn’t it a bit too tough?". "Well of course it's tough for the men but that's the goal isn’t? Feminism has to be a bit tough to men in order to work". She really didn't seem to understand what that other woman meant, and the other was apparently confused about it. "I mean for the women... for the Korean women. Aren't these rules too tough for Korean feminists? Isn’t there a way to help women without giving them such hard rules to follow?".
I was very annoyed (so was the woman who talked about this movement in the first place) because how can you miss the point so badly? How does she think feminism works? Does she believe some sort of higher power gives Korean women rules to follow and that they get thrown in jail if they date a man? How can you describe this movement as "rules"? They aren't rules. They would be rules if Korean women were forced to obey them, if they were punished for dating men. That's not the case. What's happening is that some women decide of their own free will to stop dating men (among other things). They don't follow any rules, they freely chose to do what they do. It's about women's freedom, about women deciding what they do with their life and body. But I guess people nowadays use this concept only to defend prostitution and makeup, without understanding it in reality, when it comes to women doing things that go against what the patriarchy wants them to do.
Anyway, I find it interesting that this woman's first conclusion was that these were rules rather than free choices. This is why many people see radical feminism as a cult; they can't understand the idea of women making their own choices if those choices defy patriarchy. They think we must be some kind of cult that brainwashes them and forces them to obey and follow complicated rules, because how else can a woman decide to stop fucking men? A free woman would never do that.
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kana-de · 1 month
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hollow.
⭒ summary: arlecchino comes to your lands in hope of getting your gnosis non-violently. having hidden feelings for the harbinger, you offer a bargain, which she ends up accepting. it hurts both of you in the end.
⭑ cw: suggestive (no nsfw). angst. a lot of angst. angst no comfort (i warned you). hidden feelings. archon!reader. reader and arle both feel, and i mean feel.
⭒ wc: 3.4k.
⭑ a/n: oh wow. hi. this is like, the first fic i've written that was so long. ended up beta reading it with grammarly for two straight days. also tried improving my writing style, hope it looks like it lol. please like and reblog !!
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"so, lady arlecchino," you started. your gaze remained cold but calm despite the inner hesitation you were feeling while facing the harbinger. "what business do you have in my lands?"
an unexpexted visit of the fatui delegation along with the fourth harbinger visiting her homeland was quite the news to you this morning. having no other choice than to face them, and you knew precisely why she would visit, hearing the news from the archons of other regions from last months.
it scared you, in some way. but you were expecting they would eventually reach you.
arlecchino slowly lowered herself into her own comfortable chair opposite of you before looking at you again. her face became expressionless again.
"It's a pleasure to see you too, miss [name]," she retorted in the same calm manner, despite her words clearly having a mocking undertone somewhere deep down. her eyes studied you as she continued, hearing you not reacting to her words.
you didn't change much from the last time she saw you. she didn't want you to, anyway. the same eyes, hair, accessories, manners... so on. she remembered every little detail.
"miss [name], do you really think you can rule this region on your own for the rest of eternity?" arlecchino suddenly asked, crossing her legs and arms simultaneously as she leaned back in her seat, seemingly making herself very much comfortable.
you blinked in confusion, head tilting the slightest bit. the woman had the dignity to let a corner of her lips raise upward at your reaction. she knew this "start" of the conversation wasn't what you expected.
"...i'm sorry?" you asked, not quite getting the meaning of the question.
"i'm sure you've already guessed what i'm here for. what i'm getting at is..."
arlecchino leaned forward in her chair, her eyes studying you. her face became expressionless once again, but a dark half-smile was painted on it. her voice became slightly threatening, nearly causing goosebumps to run across your skin. she knew your exterior wouldn't be cracked so easily - you're tough; much tougher than many people she's met in her life. but this was a start.
"...what do you want in exchange for your gnosis?" the question was almost a demand. she simply voiced her intentions - get your gnosis, and it wasn't an invitation of any sort.
your eyes narrowed, eyeing arlecchino. what is this? a negotiation? it does sound like one. but is that really it?
"and when did i mention something about giving up my gnosis, lady arlecchino?" you asked calmly.
"don't pretend you don't understand."
arlecchino's voice now held the slightest hint of threat to it, but her face became a little kinder and she continued in a more calm and friendly tone. or she only intended for it to sound friendly. uh, these diplomat things.
"i think we both know perfectly well what I want to hear from you; a clear answer. why don't we come to an agreeable conclusion and you'll give up your gnosis to me? certainly with no harm, you have my promise," she said, her voice getting a more expectant undertone as she spoke the last words, then looked at you in anticipation of the answer.
you leaned back in your seat, unsure of what to make of this whole 'visit'. it was suspicious, you couldn't deny it, but the pull towards the forbidden was finally getting to you, and your bottled-up for centuries-on-end feeling might be getting outside right at this moment.
this is an opportunity you have once in a life, your heart screamed at you. use it.
despite floating somewhere deep in your thoughts, you could easily feel as if arlecchino kept trying to burn a hole in you. and her eyes - especially the shape and color of her pupils - weren't helping either. she did look intimidating like this, but nonetheless, she was willing to wait. at least for now.
you weren't the type to risk, but...
so, an opportunity.
"now, what was that you said about getting something in exchange?" you inquired, exhaling a soft, quiet breath as you got out of your mind. shouldn't have entered it in the first place, you thought. too much of everything.
arlecchino smiled and her eyes gleamed a strange glint you couldn't quite decipher what meant.
"oh, it's good that you're interested," her voice became inviting again, almost soothing, but behind the façade was clearly a not-so-hidden intention. "i wouldn't want to use force against you if this escalated any more."
"of course i wouldn't just take your gnosis from you. i am a woman of honor and deal, miss [name]. if you'll give your gnosis to me i will, of course, give you something in return," she leaned back in her chair and stared straight into your eyes.
"would you like to hear what i would offer you?"
"no," you instantly replied, dismissing the woman. "i already have something i want to ask of you. but first..." you looked around the room, noticing a few fatui soldiers standing here and there. you didn't need extra ears from here anymore. "i need them to leave us alone."
arlecchino's lips curled slightly upward, resembling a smile.
"i see no problem in that. if you're planning on saying something personal, they don't need to witness this conversation."
she glanced at her soldiers and then turned her gaze back to you. the fatui left the room instantly, with no further words said.
"and now to the important part: what can i offer you in exchange for the gnosis, miss [name]?"
you kept silent for at least a minute. you licked your lips, then let your teeth bite down into her lower lip as you thought. arlecchino already seemed to notice one thing that stood out the most - you hesitated.
a deep inhale and the same deep exhale.
"my offer is..." you started slowly, eyes drawn to the table. you simply just couldn't bring yourself to look the woman in the eyes when saying what you were going to say. "we spend the night. together," you said, knowing that she clearly understands what you're talking about.
"and in the morning, i will grant you my gnosis, and we won't have any more business together after that."
silence.
this was precisely what arlecchino was hoping to hear from you.
she raised an eyebrow after a few moments of processing your words, expecting something like this, but still surprised by such a straightforward proposition. however, she quickly regained her composure, leaning back in her seat.
she knew where you were getting with this. she knew you craved this since you both ever saw each other. this was seemingly what you and her needed, but it was so much more complicated than just that.
she also knew that you would hurt so much the next morning, after giving up that gnosis, if she accepted this deal.
for the first time in a while, arlecchino felt torn by the thought of someone being hurt. surprisingly, it's you she was thinking about at that moment.
"my, my... i must admit such a proposal from you is a shock to me. so bold of you to assume that i would accept your deal so easily," she gave you a look, which held the tiniest bit of sympathy and compassion. she had mixed feelings about this.
"however, i'm indeed sure that you mean no harm, especially to me. so, i'll accept your offer on one condition."
she accepted it, immediately flashed in your mind. she accepted it almost instantly. your heart seemed to take a leap, no, a thousand of those as your eyes widened at the realization.
what was going on between the two of you?
you finally found the courage to look up at the woman. hearing no further elaboration, but wanting to hear it right now, you pried further, "that condition being..?"
arlecchino's eyes found yours, as if trying to read you from the outside, and she leaned in closer to the table separating the two of you.
"we keep this a secret," she said, eyes narrowing slightly and voice becoming nearly a whisper. "from the fatui and from everyone else."
"do we have a deal?"
you nodded. "i thought it's only logical that we keep it a secret. so, of course," you continued, eyes focusing on the woman. you didn't want to look away from her for a second, afraid she might disappear. "we have a deal."
a small smile played on arlecchino's lips as she gave a slight nod of satisfaction in response to the fact that you agreed so eagerly. her voice became slightly louder now, as if to not cause any suspicion if someone were to listen from the outside.
"very well. i accept your terms. and i give you my word to keep this... arrangement, a secret from everyone else," she said. her piercing gaze met yours, but the smile on her lips did not disappear.
"where would you like to meet, miss [name]?"
you didn't know how you both made it to your room, but the second the front door was closed and secured with a 'click' of the lock, arlecchino's lips crashed onto yours, as well as you found your back to quickly meet the wall.
there were lips biting one another, hands everywhere, tongues intertwining, your own heartbeat loud in your ears as you kissed, your hand shooting up to grab the back of arlecchino's neck... and you were hoping to forget about the gnosis just for this night. just for the duration of these hours.
just for one night. and then it'll all be over in her morning.
arlecchino's lips felt soft and warm as they pressed against your own. her tongue gently licked your lower lip, teeth tugging at it slightly as her hands roamed all over you. she didn't seem to want to pressure you into something, but she wanted to show you how much she wanted this, too. she then broke the kiss to catch her breath, eyes gleaming with hunger for more, despite the softness in them.
her fingers tangled in your hair as she looked deep into your eyes, "you're even more beautiful than i imagined."
with those words arlecchino pulled you closer, pressing herself against you, as her lips found their way to your neck, kissing her way down to your cleavage, before finding her way back onto your lips.
you felt like you were suffocating; suffocating in arlecchino. in her touch, lips, breath, and in your own sensations of all of the above.
"not here," you managed to whisper out breathily, already panting. you were sure your lips were already red and swollen from all of this. "left door."
arlecchino's lips came back to trailing kisses down your neck, biting softly in some places, but she seemed to obey you. her hands seemed to settle on your waist as she led you to the said left door.
"are you sure?" she whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the skin there, and you immediately felt shivers crawling down your spine.
"are you sure you want this?"
"are you?" you asked in return, words barely a whisper, brows furrowed a small bit as if you yourself contemplated your choice.
you didn't. not for a single second.
"i am."
with that, arlecchino pulled you closer to herself again and claimed your lips once again. it was a hungry kiss, filled with passion and desire and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of longing.
"i want you," she whispered against your lips before kissing them again. the sound of your heartbeat was so loud that you were sure the woman could almost hear it in her own ears. her hands wandered over to your shoulders, pushing you through the door and into your bedroom, and she pushed the door with her leg to close it.
"all of you... i want all of you," arlecchino murmured, letting her lips detach from yours for a split second, eyes finally meeting yours, seeing all the need and yearning in yours.
she craved this a lot, but she knew you craved it more.
"then have all of me," you whispered in reply, ignoring the fact that the loud pounding of your heart in your ribcage seemed to reach the limit of its loudness, almost drowning out all other sounds. you pulled her along with you, your back falling onto the bed with a soft thud, leaving the woman to settle on your hips and watch you from above.
if arlecchino was sure, then you were also sure. you knew it wasn't how that worked, but you could let yourself forget that just for tonight.
arlecchino seemed like she was about to pounce on you, the hunger and lust in her eyes increasing rapidly as she watched the rise and fall of your chest; the way your breath would increase as she looked in your direction. her eyes wandered over your body, taking in every curve, every muscle, and every movement you made. her own breathing became slightly more ragged and she licked her lips.
"you're so beautiful," came out as a soft whisper, arlecchino's eyes now resembling a newfound tenderness that wasn't there before.
she leaned in closer, warm breath caressing your neck, her scent filling the air around you as her palms settled on your cheeks and jaw, thumbs caressing the skin mindlessly.
"may i?"
gods, she still asked for consent.
you exhaled shakily while realizing that; that she didn't want it to be just a decision in the heat of the moment. it warmed your heart, even if a little bit.
"anything."
arlecchino suddenly felt loved and wanted, and it was almost the same feeling that she always wanted to feel from no one but you.
you were giving yourself up to her for one night, and she was going to make it count.
she kissed you like it was the last kiss of her life. she kissed you deeply, heartfeltly, lovingly, and with such intensity that it was like you two were the only people in the world, and both your and her touch screamed please, don't let me go.
you awoke just as the sun had begun to rise, the light from it shining through the curtains and onto the bed. the woman beside you shifted, too, seemingly being already awake for a little while.
arlecchino had watched you for a little bit while you slept. it was a sight she couldn't tear her eyes from away even if she wanted to. duties and titles long forgotten, this was what she wanted to see every day.
you blinked as the light found your eyes, rubbing them for a few seconds before focusing your gaze on the woman on the other side of the bed. neither of you spoke, for now.
you sat up on the bed, having the blanket cover up your naked, marked, loved body. arlecchino followed your every move, eyes only once wandering down to your back and back up to your face.
your heart hurt at the realization that it was already morning.
the night had ended.
you didn't want it to be over so fast.
looking down at the woman, you averted your eyes, feeling the need to blink away the sting of tears threatening to find their way out. one of your hands moved up, palm facing upwards. your fingers trembled as you exhaled shakily.
you got lost in your thoughts for a few moments. what if arlecchino won't take the gnosis? was that even possible in a situation like this?
certainly not, you must be daydreaming of some kind of hope.
glowing a soft light, floating up and down over your hand was your gnosis.
you stared at it, not blinking, then stared a little more, and then your hand shifted and offered the gnosis to arlecchino.
it was over. as simple as that.
arlecchino's breath hitched as she sat up to have a look at the small, glimmering chess piece. her hand slowly reached out and she took the gnosis from your hand, her fingers closing around it. she examined it closely, as if making sure it was real. to you, she looked satisfied with your deal.
"thank you very much, miss [name]."
you immediately noticed the change in tone. it became professional in just a few moments, leaving you confused.
she then stood up from the bed and started to put on her clothes. it was the sign that the deal was over and that her mission was complete. she didn't even look back at you, you thought. oh.
"well then... i guess my work here is done."
"...i guess it is," you could only reply quietly, eyes rooted to the woman's back as she got dressed.
you noticed the change in the woman's attitude, in her voice, and your heart basically shattered. it was like there were no kisses shared between you two just hours before, no compliments whispered, no intimate connections made. like the night before never existed.
you were just another mission.
of course it would be like this, you thought. you were the first to suggest that you both will never see each other again after this, and you were the one to fall for all of this.
but it still stung.
"you never meant it," you whispered in the end, realizing those words spoken and whispered so intimately were, apparently, just in a haze of situation. how predictable. you fell for that yet again.
arlecchino paused for a moment before she picked up her remaining clothes and turned to face you. her gaze was cold and emotionless, but she hesitated, before her expression purposefully changed into a more serious expression.
she needed to make you feel like she didn't have any feelings for you. it would be better for both of you. no bonds. no strings attached. she never wanted you to pine for her, as she was certainly not the one you needed to have beside her.
an archon and a harbinger. comical.
"i was agitated," arlecchino replied, voice turning back to previous hardness and flatness, zipping up her pants.
she hated saying the next words.
"you were just a means to an end."
pause.
your chest hurt. your eyes stung.
you wished you'd never heard any of this. you weren't ready to hear any of this. but now, these words will surely be engraved into your memory.
you didn't reply, and thus, there was silence. a loud one at that.
arlecchino felt the said silence like no other. she knew she'd achieved what she wanted just by witnessing your reaction.
you didn't stop looking in the direction where the woman was getting ready. neither did you react, just blinking away the tears from her eyes, preventing them from appearing.
your chest suddenly felt hollow, and not because of the gnosis that was no longer there.
arlecchino finished getting dressed quickly, since the silence in the room was getting more and more uncomfortable. it was a sign of your defeat, and she hated the realization of that.
she wanted to say something. wanted to take it back. to hug you. to kiss you again. to make love to you again. she wanted to tell you that she had fallen in love with you and that she wished everything was different.
but she knew that she would only end up hurting you more if she did so.
"i will be taking my leave."
you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood just trying to hold back your tears. your emotions. you weren't allowed to feel, but you felt, and it was suffocating you, dragging you towards the bottom.
"good job," you could only mutter, voice barely a whisper, gaze shifting back to the blanket.
arlecchino felt so much guilt for the words she had said. she knew how much pain those words were causing you, but she couldn't take them back even if she wanted to. the hurt was necessary.
she wanted nothing more than to go over to you, pull you into her arms, comfort you, and whisper how much she loves and cares for you. she wanted to apologize to you; wanted to tell you how sorry she was for hurting you.
but she didn't. she couldn't, because no one could know about the true feelings she had for you.
not even you.
so she just got dressed in silence, the weight of your gnosis in her pocket feeling heavier with every moment that passed. it's not like she could do anything other than that.
you heard arlecchino's hand placing itself on the door handle, and the woman paused momentarily, eyed wandering over to your form on the bed, scenes of the previous night flashing in front of her eyes as she looked at you.
the door clicked open, and she took one step outside your room before speaking her last words to you.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss [name]."
the door closed.
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Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!
ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...
Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.
I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3
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More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]
Part 1
Part 2.5
"You controlling prick!"
Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.
Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.
"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."
The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."
"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.
Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.
"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.
"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."
"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."
You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."
It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.
--
Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.
In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.
Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.
It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.
"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"
"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.
For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.
Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"
"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.
"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."
"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."
Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."
You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."
You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."
"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"
He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."
You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."
"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."
You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.
After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.
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shalotttower · 5 months
Text
Fractalize (part 1)
Title: Fractalize
Fandom: Hunter x Hunter
Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.
Word count: 3700+
Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)
Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2
Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.
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Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.
It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.
A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.
Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.
It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.
Imagine. Remake. Slip.
You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.
Remake, slip.
You have new vocabulary now.
"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.
"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".
"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.
"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.
"If you say so" - for everything else.
You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.
Yes this and no that.
Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.
Wasn't worth it.
***
"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.
It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.
You pull the blanket higher. "I do."
He knows it.
The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.
"What kind?"
Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.
Or-
You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.
She probably thought you abandoned her.
"Cats."
Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.
"We can get one, if you'd like."
"No."
Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.
"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.
The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.
She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.
Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."
A chair creaks. "Why?"
You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.
"Don't need it."
"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.
"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.
Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.
There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.
"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"
Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.
"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."
His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"
"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.
There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.
"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.
"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.
He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.
Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.
"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.
"On what?"
"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."
You don't respond.
To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.
Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.
His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.
"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.
"It's early."
"Mm."
He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.
You watch him. Wait.
"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."
Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.
"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."
You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.
"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."
"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."
You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.
He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.
You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.
"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.
His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.
"I'm right then," you say.
"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."
There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.
"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."
You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,
"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."
***
The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.
Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.
Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.
You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.
A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.
It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.
You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?
Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.
"Dear."
You almost jump.
Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.
"Mm?"
"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."
You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.
"Was just thinking."
"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.
True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.
For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.
Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.
He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."
His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.
"What was on your mind then?"
Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.
"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."
If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.
"Tell me."
You hate when he does that.
"It was boring."
"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."
Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.
If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.
It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.
"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."
Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.
"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."
There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.
"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, I got sad."
Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.
"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."
"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.
It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.
"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."
You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.
"Mm," you say.
Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.
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jinbedreams · 15 days
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It's been so fascinating to see how strongly people react to Toshiro in Dungeon Meshi. When I first read that scene I didn't feel hurt by Toshiro's rejection of Laois at all, I was more shocked at Laios raising a hand to him in anger because Laios had always felt like a man free from such anger and aggression. Although it was very powerful to see that Laios was capable of feeling such a way. I felt the scene was very emotionally charged and an important moment for both characters.
So when I started hearing about how hurt other people were at seeing Toshiro lash out in frustration towards Laios, and seeing people express discomfort towards Toshiro I was surprised but not confused. Honestly I was more surprised at myself for not having a similar reaction because I have also been subject to being led on in "friendships" that the other person secretly despised (or at least did NOT feel the same). It can be very hurtful to discover that someone has built a resentment towards you but never made any attempt to clear the air with you until a point of crisis.
I am autistic and I struggle a lot with relationships but in this instance I didn't see myself in Laios' shoes (although I have been there) instead I found myself relating to Toshiro. A man trapped by social expectations, rigid rules of engagement hammered into him from a young age, only to discover that there is someone who does not follow these rules at all. Even more bizarrely they seem completely free from any of the consequences that would befall Toshiro if he ever deviated from his carefully cultivated mask.
I can say from experience it is confronting to try and unpack your own high masking trauma while also feeling compelled to support the low masking autistic person in your life. Even if the other person means no ill will and has not truly done anything wrong, having them unknowingly walk all over you can be enough to push you to a breaking point. There is an intense frustration that comes with seeing someone else get away with not following the social rules you have beaten yourself painfully into shape to fit.
Yes Toshiro could have chosen any moment to correct Laios on his name, or clarify his discomfort or his personal boundaries, but that is operating under the assumption that Toshiro feels safe enough to do so. He is a stranger in a strange land, and often in that position it is a safer choice to subject yourself to a level of discomfort simply to keep the general peace. Where my fellow high maskers at? We make biting our tongue a fucking art.
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hispg · 6 months
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Between royalty and vows
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Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc:2.4k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things starts to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
An: So, initially I was going to post the other fanfic I did with Fuckboy! Leon, but I thought it was bad and decided not to post it for now. But I still have plans for it.
I intend to do several chapters on this fic(I'm sucker for royalty AU), I don't know exactly how many but I plan to do more than 10 or 15, since I have a lot of stuff I want to put in. Most of them are not comforting.
This is a thank you to the 200 followers, which by the way is almost 300 by now. I'd like to genuinely thank each and every one of you<3 And I hope you enjoy this story, because I'm genuinely excited about it.
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Prologue
Royalty wasn't for everyone, that much was obvious to those who already lived in this reality. A world of appearances where everything was perfect, people, everyday life, relationships. But that was a facade, the reality took place between closed doors.
It was never clean, the backstabbing behind the king's back, the betrayals, the lust that hid behind the elaborate and sophisticated costumes. But in the end, what mattered was how beautiful that royal family was to its subjects, honor being a crucial element to maintain.
Faced with all this, the Italian prince, Leon, was well aware of the dynasty's sacrifices. He was already aware of his duty, and knew that at some point his life would take a completely different turn from what he had expected. As the only heir, he knew that it wouldn't be long before his father wanted him to marry, after all, he had to carry on the line. The honor of the kingdom had to continue, and he was the only one who could.
Although he already knew that the burden of succession would come to him one day, he just didn't expect it to be so soon.
Leon was a man known for his accomplishments, despite his young age he was a brave man, as well as the incomparable beauty he contained. Sharp features, a piercing blue gaze, a prince who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He had a unique authenticity.
Yet he still couldn't fit in with his surroundings. His eyes staring at the chandelier, seeing how decorated everything in the castle was. Seeing the expensive clothes of each of the invited guests, the glittering dresses of the ladies who were there. He watched the people walking around the hall, seeing how comfortable they were in that situation.
But not him.
The evening was planned to be perfect, days and weeks of planning went into making this great event happen. All the most important royals were present at the castle, from the most prestigious dukes and duchesses to other kings and queens.
Today was the day that the Italian prince, Leon, would be presented to his future wife. He was the rightful heir, the next to rule his own kingdom. That's why the ballroom was perfect, every last detail thought of and worked on to create the perfect occasion.
To show off the future rulers of the country. The next ones who would take care of that kingdom and prosper it. It was a more than necessary moment to demonstrate the future couple.
Despite all the sophistication and dedication that the queen put into the celebration, Leon didn't seem to be at all excited or happy about the situation. He was sitting in one of the royal chairs, taking small sips of the most expensive wine, his expression sullen and bitter.
He didn't ask for any of this.
The day when the fates of two royals would cross, intertwine and become one. A marriage that would unite them, a commitment that once made could not be broken.
If he was being honest, he didn't even want to be a prince. This royal life didn't suit him, all these comforts and perks that didn't seem to fit in with anything he liked. A forced life, just because he was born into this family.
From where he was sitting, he could see you coming. The beautiful British princess, dressed in the most expensive of dresses, hair tied up in a bun. The ornaments that shone on you, as well as the enchanting smile that could melt even the hardest heart. At that point, all eyes were on you, curious and expectant. Everyone there was close to the soon-to-be queen.
Admiring your features, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful. Your sweet features, your face that exuded the purest grace and youth. Your way of walking that seemed to make you flutter with every step.
Still, you weren't her. You weren't the woman he loved. The only one capable of bringing a genuine smile to the skeptical man he was.
You weren't Ashley Graham, the princess he had fallen madly in love with. The one with whom he had sworn several vows of love, the one with whom he had promised to spend the rest of his life.
And there he was, preparing to marry another woman. One he didn't even know, or have any proximity to, and even worse, to marry a woman he didn't love. No matter how much he protested this to his father, nothing he said was listened to.
'You're going to marry her, whether you like it or not.' Words that still echoed in his head, and seeing how close this marriage was, he felt the weight of the situation on his back.
Yes, he had always known that this moment would come. His duty as a prince, to follow what was prescribed. What fate was supposed to have in store for him, even if he didn't believe in it.
But all his thoughts vanish once he hears a sweet voice calling him:
"Your Highness." The tender feminine voice coming from your lips, along with the elegant curtsy you made.
He blinked a few times, holding back a sigh out of politeness. Like the gentleman he was, he rose from his seat, returning the bow to you.
"Good to see you here, Your Highness." He says courteously, even if it's a lie. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was keep up appearances.
It was hard not to notice the prince's beauty, his handsome and charming face, his eyes the lightest shade of blue you'd ever seen. His blond hair was just as captivating. No wonder he was one of the most desired.
You felt lucky to be the woman who would marry him, even though you knew that the prince already had someone else in his heart. Rumors spread fast, especially when it came to a family as important as his. But magically things remained under wraps, even though the suspicions of this secret relationship were well-founded.
You always knew that like most marriages, you wouldn't marry someone you were in love with. But you still had a glimmer of hope that you could make him like you, at least a little bit. You hated to think that maybe your marriage was a ruin like all the others.
Love and royalty didn't go together, yet you wanted to try and make it something unique.
"Would you like a dance?" Leon asks, snapping you out of your deep trance of thoughts.
You nodded with a polite smile, holding his warm hand as he led you into the middle of the hall. The classical music that echoed through the space, as other people danced and celebrated, gave the place a joyful atmosphere.
As soon as you were in the middle of the ballroom, all eyes were on you. With a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, he bowed and began to dance with you.
One hand on your back, the other intertwined with yours, your bodies very close, your faces almost touching.
His feet moved in sync with yours, both of you moving gracefully. Whirling around the ballroom. The two of you waltzing all over the place, keeping smiles and gentle glances for each other. Acting as if you were a couple in love, making silent vows. His eyes not leaving yours for a minute, his hand briefly squeezing yours, the moment seemed magical. In a way you never imagined it could be.
His cologne filling your nostrils, the heat emanating from his body. Everything about him seemed to draw your attention, as if it were a temptation.
You could feel your heart beating fast, the butterflies in your stomach that showed your clear nervousness. But still you didn't stumble once, your grace and elegance being whispered about among the guests.
His eyes staring into yours, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. This dance was a demonstration of the cooperation between the two countries, the union that was about to take place. A reason to be honored.
Despite the delicacy of the moment, the fluidity with which you danced, the mesmerizing sophistication of your movements. The way your dress dragged across the floor and danced with you. The passionate look you insisted on seeing in him.
You knew it was a lie. A damn lie.
It was confirmed once you saw his eyes light up, the outline of a sincere smile forming on his lips. At first you thought it was directed at you, but that feeling was crushed when you decided to take a look back.
There she was, the breathtaking Highness Graham, the blonde who had captured Leon's heart. The girl who wore a delicate white dress, with sophisticated and expensive accessories, enhancing her beauty. She stood among the others, just admiring him with a beautiful smile.
She knew she had his heart in the palm of her hand, so she couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous of you. He belonged to her.
You felt it in the way he admired her, in the way he looked at her in a way you couldn't even dream of. He was hopelessly in love, to the point where he even forgot you were standing in front of him. His body just moved on automatic, as if his focus was only on Ashley, only on her.
Although you wanted to pull back a little, you couldn't. The waltz wasn't over yet, it was a tradition, and you had to go until the music stopped. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart, the feeling that you had already lost a battle that hadn't even begun.
Nobody said you could have his heart.
As he twirls with you, he seems to focus his attention on you once again. Just for a brief moment, he was smart, he knew he couldn't give too much leeway for other rumors to spread around.
It was imaginable that the marriage would be a failure, since both kingdoms only saw it as an opportunity to increase business. However, you didn't expect to get this response so quickly.
Destined for an unreachable man, who was so close and yet so far away. How cruel could fate be?
And so you continued, keeping up the play of a couple in love, dancing and waltzing around the room. His gaze shifting between you and her, just as his expression changed with every glance. For one he gave a polite smile, for the other he gave a genuine one.
And you already knew who was who in the story.
After what seemed like an eternity, the waltz was over. You are presented with a round of applause, whistles and sincere words of approval for your union.
This while you waved and smiled, then bowed to each other, a sign of respect from both sides. As well as showing your gratitude to each other for the opportunity to dance. Etiquette and tradition, which you were following to the letter.
As soon as the applause stopped, Leon held out his arm for you to take, so that he could guide you to the place where the king would give a speech about the future marriage.
Consequently, you and Leon would officially become engaged. There were many looks on both of your faces, so many that you couldn't even count.
One in particular caught your eye, the same woman who had captured Leon's attention earlier, Ashley Graham.
The subtle smile, which was soon reciprocated by Leon, although discreet, you were able to perceive this small exchange between them. You couldn't deny the lump that was forming in your throat as you tried to let the situation sink into your head, that you would at least understand how it would go on.
As you walked through the great hall, stepping on the expensive marble, making your way to where the king would make his pronouncement. Walking through the crowd of distinguished guests who were there.
You noticed him looking at you from the corner of his eye, as if he were analyzing you from head to toe. It wasn't as if he was judging you or anything, it seemed more like the look of someone who wanted to look at his future wife, as if he was thinking about how things would be from now on.
Which you didn't even know what it would be like, either.
It wasn't long before you arrived at the King's chambers, a polished and expensive place, you could feel the sophistication of his throne just by looking at it. The place was perfectly tidy, the carpet had no fuss at all, perfectly done. Every butler and waiter duly took their places, bowing as you walked.
It seemed that the king had already started his speech, but he hadn't gotten to the important part yet. First, he had to give a statement to those attending the event, nothing more than a courtesy to them for being there, as well as reinforcing his duty to his kingdom, and to each of his subjects.
A while later, the king stood up, raised a glass of wine and said loud and clear:
"Tonight is a special night," then his gaze falls on the two of you, and he smiles broadly, "My heir, my only son is going to marry."
Despite the obvious, a round of applause echoed around the room, whistles and compliments. Which caused you and Leon to smile at each other, acting as if the happiness was genuine, as if you weren't two unacquainted people about to get married.
As soon as Leon's father saw the general reaction, he raised his glass and said, "Cheers."
Enough for another wave of loud sounds and murmurs from people. They seemed to be very happy about the future of the kingdom.
Leon then gave you a hug around the waist, swirling you in the air. Even his smile changed, and you believed even for a second that it was real.
"We'll be happy," Leon murmurs, loud enough for the people around you to hear and giggle at the new couple.
"Yes, of course." You say with a sweetness in your voice, buying his conversation. Deep down you wanted it to be real, but you knew the shadow that stood between the two of you.
It was a lie, a facade, and maybe it would never be real.
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captainmera · 5 months
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My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️
Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.
And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.
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Thank you! :D <333
He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.
(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)
Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.
Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.
I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.
And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.
I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.
But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.
I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.
King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.
The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.
I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.
I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.
I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.
The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.
Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.
I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.
And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.
People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?
Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.
Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.
But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.
There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.
With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.
I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.
As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.
Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.
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utilitycaster · 2 months
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Daggerheart Character Build thoughts!
I am actually out at work and haven't checked the version that's since come out, but I did participate in the character build beta, and the NDA is officially lifted, so here's my thoughts from that! It's definitely limited since I just made a L1 character and didn't go through gameplay, though I surmise about some aspects of gameplay.
Overall, it clearly seems to be made by people who love a lot of things about D&D 5e but wanted both more flexibility and more simplicity, which is difficult. I think they succeed.
To that end, it takes away some of the crunchier aspects (precise positioning, exact amounts of gold) and I think for some people that will be a problem, and that's valid, but ultimately this game wants to both allow for interesting mechanics in and out of combat while also not being terribly math/map/resource management heavy. It is a hard line to walk; most systems either go hard crunch or go entirely gooey.
The dice mechanic (2d12, Hope and Fear system) is fantastic; look it up but I think it handles mixed successes more gracefully and interestingly than a lot of games.
The playtest was not super clear on armor and evasion choices (or indeed what evasion means; it seems to be sort of initiative but sort of dex save, or maybe more like the Pathfinder/old school D&D varying ACs by scenario?). It was much, MUCH clearer than D&D on weapon choices (part of why I play casters? Weapon rules in D&D are annoying and poorly explained and many people rightfully ignore them) so I'm hoping this becomes clear when there's a full guide rather than just the character creation info.
The character creation questions by class were fantastic and in general, and this is a theme, this feels like it guides people towards collaboration. FWIW I feel like D&D has that information, but the way it's presented is very much as flavor text rather than a thing you should be doing. Daggerheart makes this a much more core part of creation. The Experience mechanic is particularly clear: you better be working with your GM and really thinking about background, rather than slapping it on as a mechanic.
The other side of character creation questions is that it really encourages engagement with the class, which is something I've talked about. I think either subversion for the sake of subversion, or picking a class for the mechanics and aesthetic but not the fundamental concept, will be much harder to justify in Daggerheart, and I think that's a good thing because when people do that, their characters tend to be weaker.
The downtime is designed for you to write hurt/comfort fanfic about and this is a compliment. There are a number of mechanics that reward RP, particularly one of the healing mechanics under the Splendor track. I feel like a weakness of D&D is that when you try to reward RP it's really nebulous because there's not actually a ton of space to put that - you can give inspiration, but, for example, the empathy domain Matt homebrewed actually feels kind of off because it's based on such fuzzy concepts amid mechanics that are usually more rigid. Daggerheart comes off as much cleaner yet still RP-focused, and I'm excited to see it in action.
A judgement of Candela and I suppose Daggerheart might be that it's designed for actual play. I've mentioned before that I know people who are super into the crunch and combat and numbers of TTRPGs and are less story-oriented, and again, that's valid, but actual play is just storytelling using a ttrpg and so yes, a game that encourages RP while also having mechanics to support that and influence it is an extremely good goal. I am not an actual player, but I do like D&D games with a good plot and not just Go Kill Monsters, and I want to play this. (I also have some real salty thoughts about how if you modify an existing game for AP purposes that's staggering genius apparently, but if you make your own game how dare you but that's another post).
And now, the classes/subclasses. I am going to sort of use D&D language to describe them because that's a point of reference most people reading this will understand, but they are not one-to-one. A couple notes: everyone can use weapons and armor. HP is not totally clear to me but it seems to be threshold based - everyone has the same HP to start but people have different thresholds and armor, so the tank classes have the same amount of HP but are much harder to actually do damage to.
All classes are built on a combination of a subclass and two domains. There are 9 classes and 9 domains. This technically means that if you wanted to fuck around and homebrew you could make up to 36 classes (27 additional) by just grabbing two domains that weren't otherwise combined, which is fun to consider for the potential. Anyway I cover the classes and briefly describe domains within them. You can take any domain card within your domain, regardless of subclass.
There are six stats. Presence, Instinct, Knowledge, and Strength map roughly to Charisma, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Strength. Dex is split into Agility and Finesse; Agility covers gross motor skills (jumping, most ranged weapons, "maneuvering") and Finesse finer ones (lockpicking and tinkering, though also it does cover hiding). The really big wins are first, no CON score, so you don't need to sink stat points into something that grants no skills but keeps you alive. The second one is that the "hybrid" classes spellcast from their physical stat. This is fucking fantastic. The thing about ranger or paladin or the spellcasting subclasses of rogue and fighter in D&D is that if you don't roll pretty well you're locked into the core stats and CON and nothing else. (This also doesn't have rolling for stats: you assign +2 to one stat, presumably your main, and then distribute two +1s, two 0s, and one -1.)
Your HP, Evasion, and Thresholds are set by class, and there's a core ability; the rest is all from the cards you take for subclass and domain.
Leveling up is very much based on taking more domain cards (abilities) but has a certain degree of flexibility. It's by chunks: in leveling up anywhere levels 2-4, you can, for example, increase your proficiency by +1 once, so if you wanted to do that at level 2 but your fellow player wanted to wait until level 4 and take something else at level 2 instead, they could. It allows for more min-maxing, but also everyone has the same level up rules and differs only in the abilities on the cards, which is very cool.
Bard: Grace (enchantment spells) and Codex (learned spellcaster stuff; the spells available are definitely arcane in vibes) based, Presence is your main stat. The two subclasses map roughly to lore-style stuff and eloquence. Core class ability is sort of like inspiration but not entirely. It's a bard; I like bards a lot, and this is very similar vibes-wise to your D&D bards. If you like D&D bards you will like this.
Druid: Sage (nature spells) and Arcana (raw magical power spellcaster stuff), Instinct is your spellcasting/main stat. The two subclasses are elemental but frankly cooler than circle of the moon, and a more healing/tranquility of nature focused one. I really think Marisha probably gave feedback on this one, because the elemental version is really strong. You do get beastform; it is quite similar to a D&D druid under a different system, as the bard, but the beastform options are, frankly, better and easier to understand.
Guardian: Valor (melee tank/damager) and Blade (damage). Strength based for the most part (Valor mechanics assume strength) though you could go for like, +2 Agility +1 Strength to start. This is barbarian but like. 20 times better. It is, fundamentally, a tank class, and it is very good at it, with one even more tank-focused subclass and one that is more about retaliatory damage. You do have a damage-halving ability once per day, but really guardian's questions are incredible. I think Travis and Ashley likely gave feedback. Also rage doesn't render you incapable of concentration as that doesn't seem to be a thing, so multiclassing seems way more possible (you are, I think, only allowed to do one multiclass, and not until you reach level 5 minimum, which I am in favor of). Yes, you can be a Bardian.
Ranger: This is what I built! It is based on Sage and Bone (movement around the field/dodging stuff) and it is Agility-based, including for spellcasting, which is a MASSIVE help (as is, again, the fact that CON isn't a thing.) The subclasses are basically being really good at navigation, or animal companion. Most importantly to me you can be a ranger with a longsword and you are not penalized; Bone works with either ranged weapons or melee.
Rogue: Midnight (stealth/disguise/assassination spells and skills) and Grace-based. Yes, rogue is by default a spellcaster, which does help a LOT with the vibes for me. One subclass is basically about having lots of connections (as a spy or criminal might) and the other is about magical slinking about. Hiding/sneak attack are also streamlined. I will admit I'm still more interested in…almost everything else, but I think it evened out a lot of rogue weaknesses.
Seraph: Splendor (healing/divine magic) and Valor. This is your Paladin equivalent. It is strength-based for casting, again making hybrid classes way less stressful. Questions for this area also incredible; you do have something not unlike a lay on hands pool as well. Your subclasses are being able to fly and do extra damage; or being able to make your melee weapon do ranged attacks and also some extra healing stuff, the latter of which is my favorite. Yasha vibes from this, honestly. Single downside is this is the only class where they recommend you dump Knowledge. I will not, and I never will. Now that I don't have to make sure CON is high? I am for REAL never giving myself less than a +1 Knowledge in this game.
Sorcerer: Arcana (raw nature of magic/elemental vibes) and Midnight based. Yes, sorcerers and rogues now share a vibe, for your convenient….less enthused feelings. Instinct-based, which intrigues me, and the core features are in fact really good. The two subclasses are either one that focuses on metamagic abilities, or one that is elemental based. I would play this for a long-running game, though it's not my favorite, and I can't say that for D&D sorcerer (except divine soul).
Warrior: Blade and Bone, and the recommended build is Agility but you could do a strength build. Fighter! One subclass is about doing damage and one is about the hope/fear mechanics core to the game that I have NOT talked much about. I will admit, the hybrid martials and Guardian are more interesting to me but you do have good battle knowledge.
Wizard: Codex and Splendor. Wizards can heal in this system; farewell, I will be doing nothing else (jk). Knowledge-based, and you can either go hardcore expertise in knowledge, or be a battle wizard.
Other scattered thoughts: healing is not as big a deal here; there is no pure cleric class! There is also no monk, warlock, or artificer. There is not a way to do monk as a weaponless class really though you might be able to flavor the glowing rings as a monk weapon and play a warrior. Wizard, meanwhile, with the right experiences and high finesse, would allow for some artificer flavor. Cleric and Warlock are the two tough ones and I will admit those are tricky; I feel like you'd have to multiclass (which you cannot do until level 5) between perhaps seraph and a caster class and you're still going to come off very paladin.
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pythoria · 7 months
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astarion is such a great character but one reason that stands out to me is how he turns the vampire stereotype on its head. vampires from their inception have been metaphors for sexuality, back in ye olden times when religious and cultural dogma repressed people's desires and forbade acting on them. they've always represented latent sexuality and people's increasing desperation. they were a fantasy that allowed people to imagine not being bound by societal rules, but by their internal hunger, giving into it and how that might feel, but more than that, how it might feel to be a victim of that. women, especially, were not allowed to express any desires, so the vampire taking whatever they wanted, as well as being desired for something as intrinsic to your being as your blood - that's a powerful fantasy. at its core, vampirism is about loss of control, and people who hold onto control very tightly in their lives will find themselves drawn to vampires as a form of catharsis.
but that's where astarion comes in and flips it around. he's far from the first character to explore the negative sides of vampirism, but as a long-term fan of many fictional vampires, i think he does it best. primarily because his story delves into the sexual aspect and the loss of control much more, while maintaining a lot of realism. his vampirism is very grounded in reality; he has real human feelings about it. the idea that people would find the powerful vampire overpowering them alluring is contrasted by the very obvious (to us, a modern audience) issues with consent involved. if the vampire cannot control their hunger, if they have no control over the desires they act on, that might sound appealing to someone who has never been allowed to act on *any* desire, but the reality of it is horrifying. it's being a victim of assault at your own hands. it's people using you and you being unable to express any discomfort, because what *you* want is always backseating what the vampirism demands. the liberating feeling of being able to act on your desires turns into the claustrophobia of being unable to deny them at all.
vampirism always came with downsides, of course. not being able to walk in the sun (being exiled from the world and polite society), not being able to see your reflection (a loss of self), dying and being reborn, but not coming back quite the same, never being able to return to the person you once were (giving up life itself, but not arriving in a religious heaven, rather staying on earth past your time, defying god, giving up the chance at eternal bliss for the inherently sinful continuation of the flesh), eternal life (losing everyone you love, seeing everything end) akin to eternal damnation in hell. all of these downsides, and yet, with astarion, even the good bits are tainted, or turned into something negative.
on top of that, the choice to damn himself for any supposed benefits of vampirism wasn't even given to him. he was turned against his will, kept against his will, had his freedom - the only thing worth anything to a vampire - taken away. he didn't escape from a life that boxed him in, he was ripped away from a life he dearly misses. but then again, considering his actions as a magistrate, it's also a sort of divine punishment by proxy, one that is entirely disproportionate to his crimes, in a way only something as extreme as vampirism can be.
obviously the proxy for all this is cazador, but he is merely a personification of the dark force vampires are slaves to. cazador exists because it's much easier for an audience to understand how little control a vampire has over his actions when they can point to someone and say "you're at fault, astarion is innocent, you forced him to do all of those awful things". but the truth is, cazador doesn't have to exist. cazador's compulsion could be replaced by an amorphous urge, coming from inside astarion, outside of his control, and his character would make just as much sense, except it would be harder for everyone (including astarion himself) to separate the actions from the person. imagine a dark urge character who wanted to be good, but the urge wasn't something they could resist. imagine an evil dark urge run, killing everyone, but entirely against your will. would you defend that character? would you be able to redeem them if one day the urge ceased? would you even be willing to wait, to give them time to break free? or would you just kill them, as a mercy on the world? there's no surprise that most people would stake astarion on sight. maybe he can be redeemed eventually, but what about the time inbetween?
yes, this all comes from dnd vampire lore, so it applies across the board, not just for astarion. vampire spawn exist as a different entity from a fully-fledged vampire because it allows the spawn to keep a part of their humanity, their soul, and have their morality exist separately from the call of the blood. all of this makes astarion fascinating, and also somewhat easier to analyse.
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flowerandblood · 10 months
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The Impossible Choice (10)
[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]
[ warnings: oral sex, angst, smut, fluff, sexual tension ]
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[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
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She knew that he was furious with her. She saw this in the look on his face as soon as he joined her in bidding farewell to her family. He stood next to her, not even giving her a single glance, standing straight, his hands clasped behind his back.
He didn't say a word to her.
Her heart ached at the sight, but she couldn't say that she hadn't expected it. Part of her knew that his closed, cruel nature would be furious after such an event.
She decided not to impose herself on him.
She tried her best to smile and not to cry as her father and brother came to say goodbye to her, hugging her and kissing her forehead. She didn't return Royce's gesture, allowing herself only to touch his arm, not wanting to frustrate her husband even more.
All her sisters said goodbye to her more or less coldly, but when Floris came to her and embraced her with her trembling hands she did not return the hug.
She didn't even give her single look, recognizing that after what she had done she was no longer her sister but some stranger that she didn't want to know anymore.
As soon as their carriages were on their way, her husband turned his head and left, leaving her alone. She sighed, knowing that she had to wait out the storm that raged inside him.
She had no other choice.
She knew that imposing on him would only make matters worse and she would lose her self-respect as well.
She wanted his approval, but not at any cost.
Instead of him, she decided to focus her strength and attention on her relationship with his sister, whom she involuntarily liked very much and considered her only ally worthy of any trust.
The other ladies-in-waiting were also trying to win her favor, but she knew that they simply wanted to profit from her marriage by strengthening their position at court. She decided that she wasn't going to make it easy for them, and she certainly wasn't going to expose herself before them either.
They asked her curiously what her husband was like in private when he was left alone in his chamber, is he just as mysterious and dangerous as always.
She replied to them with amusement that they should ask him themselves.
She and Helaena spoke a lot, walking together in the gardens of the Red Keep for long hours. She realized that the princess was as lonely in her marriage to her brother as she was, though her husband, at least as far as she knew, did not drink as much as his brother nor had she heard of him bedding his servants since they were married.
Helaena, however, had to watch and patiently endure the humiliation her husband brought upon her.
She seemed to lock herself in the world of her mind, isolating herself from reality, so as not to go completely insane.
She hardly ever complained, trying to focus on light and pleasant things, so they spoke about art, books, philosophy and history.
Every morning she watched how her husband practiced sword fighting with Ser Criston sitting on the windowsill, wearing only her nightgown, all around her the quiet chirping of birds and the loud clungs of steel.
She acknowledged that her husband was an even better fighter than her brother.
She had never seen Prince Aegon join him but he apparently held his daily routine sacred; she liked the fact that once he made his own rules, he stuck to them, she knew that he never broke a word once, which is why he chose them so carefully.
She got a dangerous idea to join them.
She missed training with her brother and she knew that no one would see them at this early hour anyway, so, excited by the thought, she dressed appropriately and ran to the courtyard.
She was shocked and horrified to find that her husband's reaction to seeing her was more cruel and aggressive than she expected, the cuts of his sword were quick and sure, as if he really wanted to hurt her.
He aroused adrenaline in her, the desire to defend and defy, but she still had to acknowledge his superiority when he threw the sword from her hand.
And then he took her to his temple.
From that moment, when he took her to the pits, from the moment when he wept in her arms, something had changed between them, although they did not speak about these events. She had the feeling that some kind of wall had fallen down between them.
That her husband had decided to grant her at least a little of his trust.
Since then he had decided that he wished her to help him with his bath everyday, instead of his servant.
She tried not to show it, but was delighted to do so.
Every afternoon after his training with Ser Criston, before the Small Council and the supper, his servants would fill the tub full of water in his chamber at her command.
She knew that he preferred it hot, almost burning him.
She selected the oils herself, which she then poured into the water, knowing that the gentle scent of herbs and lavender relaxed him.
When he returned to his chamber, everything was ready.
He then undressed unhurriedly, looking at her, and at first she turned her gaze away from his bare body, but then several times during the night he hissed to her what he thought of it while fucking her from behind, and she stopped doing it.
She had learned to derive satisfaction from watching his beautiful, naked, muscular flesh, his manhood always throbbing and hard at the sight of her.
He craved her relentlessly.
She was well aware that he didn't like to converse during this quiet, relaxing act and it didn't bother her.
She was able to enjoy this silence.
He would then step into the water, laying down in the bath, tilting his head back with a quiet murmur of contentment. He rested it against the edge of the tub, closing his eye, feeling that the temperature of the water was just the way he liked it.
She would then approach him meekly, stepping over him from behind. She always began with untying the black ribbon from his hair, loosening his braided strands. Then she would take a small jug, prepared by herself earlier, and fill it with water. Next she took gently his chin in her soft hand and tilt his head back, so as not to pour water into his eye while she would wash his hair.
She rubbed them with the oils that she herself used, to make his hair stronger and softer; he never complained about the end result, so she did it as she saw fit. Then she sat on a small barstool next to the tub, taking a soft cloth in her hand, dipping it in the water and gently rubbing his body with it − his face, his neck, his shoulders, his chest.
She noticed that she herself was comforted by this quiet closeness, by the fact that he was no longer allowing any servant to participate in this intimate act involving his naked body.
She knew that he was showing her in this way that although frigid in familiarity, he was being loyal to her.
She watched as his body, sore and tense, slowly relaxed, surrendering completely to her tender, soft treatments. Sometimes she had the impression that he even fell into short, blissful naps, after which he would open his eye lazily, letting out a quiet murmur of satisfaction from his throat.
By the time she had finished the water was usually no longer so hot and then, following his wishes, she would join him. As soon as her naked body was in front of him, his arm drew her close, pressing her back against his chest, his nose nestled against her cheek.
Her tender treatments made his cock swell with arousal, his hand slipped between her thighs with his hum of contentment.
"− you smell wonderful, sweet wife −" He murmured, not wanting to interrupt their calm, intimate, unforced closeness, running his fingers over her hot, puffy womanhood, teasing her bud with slow, light strokes. She closed her eyes then, tilting her head with a quiet sigh.
He loved this sight, loved it when her body spilled into his arms, completely surrendered to him. His other hand then reached up to her soft breast, playing with her nipple, pulling and rubbing it with thumb, drawing a quiet, sweet moan of pleasure from her throat. He brushed her neck and shoulders with his full lips then, caressing and massaging her like this until she came, all hot, writhing before him in pleasure, begging him not to stop.
Then he grabbed her in his arms with a loud splash of water, lifting her with him, turning her to face him, walking with her towards his bed. He would settle her on it and stand in front of her, stroking her chin.
He always wanted the same thing.
The first time she helped him with his bath, he explained to her what he desired.
"− I want you to take it into your mouth −" He said, stroking her cheek with his thumb, looking down at her, and she blushed, embarrassed and frightened.
She wondered if this was what her sister had wanted to do to him when she came to him that unfortunate night.
"Would that make you feel good?" She mumbled uncertainly, glancing at him with her large eyes. She saw his gaze darken, his jaw tighten as he swallowed loudly.
"Yes." He whispered.
She thought that she wanted to make him content.
She wanted him to sought such pleasure with her than with his servant.
He was her husband and she had long since learned that their intimacy was solely their own affair.
That's why she sat down comfortably, kneeling before him on the bed, waiting expectantly at his instructions, saw how he involuntarily licked his lips, delighted by the sight and her obedience.
"− take it in your hand and lick it −" He commanded, looking at her with misty eye, his lips parted slightly in accelerated, excited breath.
She trembled at his instructions, embarrassed by his words and what he desired, looking at his swollen, throbbing manhood and took it gently in her long fingers.
She heard him almost moan as she touched him, a strong shudder ran through his body.
He wanted to say something, but his voice trapped in his throat as she leaned over him, her tongue running tentatively over his entire length, from the root to the very tip.
She felt him slide his hand quickly into her hair, letting out a loud breath of air, delighted, his hips involuntarily coming out to meet her.
"− gods − yes − just like that −" He gasped out as if in a trance.
She liked the sounds he made, how involuntarily vulnerable he was in the act.
His skin tasted of freshness and soap, so she was not repelled; encouraged by this discovery, she repeated the caress, pressing her her tongue a little harder against his length and he tilted his head, tightening his fingers in her hair in impatience.
"− put it into your mouth − as deep − fuck − as deep, as you can −" He muttered, looking at her pleadingly, on the verge of something that she couldn't describe.
She could see that the whole act was giving him indescribable pleasure.
She looked at him surprised and swallowed quietly, frightened, feeling her heart pounding like a crazy in her chest.
She figured that since he had never hurt her so far, she would trust him and try to comply with his request.
She directed the fat head of his cock, already leaking from his own moisture against her mouth and slid it slowly between her lips. She heard a loud, low sound of pleasure break from his throat, his hips thrusting it deeper, all the way down her throat, causing her to gag, her hand to still hold what she couldn't fit inside her.
"− just like that − now be a good girl, and suck −" He exhaled, beginning to pant loudly as she complied with his command, her lips clamped around his manhood.
His hips began to move slowly inside her mouth, sliding it in and out with lewd click of her saliva, holding her head in his hands, not letting her escape. She felt tears come to her eyes from the exertion, the place between her thighs pulsing hard because of his panting and moans.
"− if you want me to − fuck − to slow down − hit me on the arm −" He mumbled out, losing his temper, the sight before him made him drift off, his click disappearing and reappearing in her mouth at an increasingly rapid pace, she felt him throbbing hard between her lips, each time hitting the back of her throat, making her struggle to hold back her vomit reflex.
"− gods − looking so innocent with my cock inside her mouth − " He gasped out, speeding up, making her squeal softly, clasping her hands on his hips, she breathed loudly through her nose to keep from suffocating.
"− just a little more, 'm close − gods − s-swallow as much as you − fuck! −" He groaned low and she sobbed, almost choking as she felt his hot release flowing down her throat, warm, sticky and a little salty.
She swallowed some of it with difficulty, the rest spilling out the corners of her mouth, running down her cheeks.
He slid his manhood out of her mouth with a sticky plop and lifted her chin, panting loudly with her, surprised by the sensation.
She had never seen him like this before, fulfilled, delighted, completely disarmed.
He rubbed the remnants of his spend from her mouth with his thumb, breathing heavily.
"Did I caused you pain?" He asked uncertainly, and she shook her head, not yet fully understanding what she had just done.
He surprised her when he drew her head to him, pressing it against his hard abdomen; she put her arms around his waist, not expecting such a gesture, this kind of closeness. He stroked her hair with gentle, slow movements of his large hand, his body still pulsing restlessly, she could feel his heart pounding har.
"So good to me." He hummed, combing his fingers through her hair, looking down at her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, the fact that she finally felt that her presence was not indifferent to him.
Afterwards, she helped him get dressed for the Small Council meeting; she combed his long, white hair, tying it partially back with a black ribbon.
She knew that he enjoyed it.
With sure, quick movements she fastened the buckles of his leather tunic, focused on her task, dressed only in her nightgown, and he watched her without saying a word.
He always kissed her goodbye.
It was one long, warm, moist, drawn-out kiss.
He always summoned her to his chamber for the night. At some point he began to grow impatient with the fact that he had to repeat himself every day and send his servants to bring her to him, so he ordered her to wait for him in his bed every evening.
She tried not to show an expression of delight at his words.
He fucked her almost every day, eagerly filling her with his spend, letting her rest on certain days when he knew that her insides were sore from their constant approaches.
She was aware that if he could, he would do it with her all the time.
Their intimacy awakened a femininity in her that she had not known in herself before; she changed and matured in a way, understanding better what she wanted and desired.
He surprised her one night when he returned to his chamber late in the night. Usually he would not wake at that hour, allowing her to sleep, but this time that did not happen.
Instead of taking her from behind, however, as was his usual custom, he turned her onto her back and spread her thighs in front of his face.
She squealed and tried to push him away when he leaned down between her thighs, his lips running tentatively over her soft womanhood, enveloping it with his hot breath. Her hands clenched in his hair, something came out of her throat, probably a question of what he wanted to do, until she finally moaned, surprised, as he sank his mouth into her fleshy folds, nuzzling her bud with his nose.
It all became clear to her when, after a moment, emboldened by her reactions, he began to slide the tip of his tongue into her slit, merely teasing her, she threw her head back, feeling that she was hot, her walls clenching greedily around nothing in pleasure each time he rubbed against the wonderful spot inside her.
"− does my wife still wish to sleep? −" He hummed, licking her more and more boldly, sliding deeper and deeper into her with the slick click of her moisture. She clenched her hands on her pillow, her body writhing beneath him from the soft, revolting sensation.
"− no − please, husband − do not stop −" She mumbled and he chuckled low, delighted with her state.
"− greedy little thing − so fucking wet just from licking her −" He gasped, sliding his tongue into her rough, fleshy interior again, she tilted her head back, surprised by the intensity of the sensation, a loud, helpless whine erupting from her chest.
The tip of his tongue massaged her wonderful spot with the wet, perverted click of her juices, she involuntarily clasped her fingers in his hair, wanting to feel him deeper, her hips responding to his every movement with desperate rocking.
"− please − please − please −" She moaned sweetly, writhing in front of him, feeling her fulfilment approaching, her nipples completely hard and swollen, her puffy lips parted in delight.
She leaned back and drew in deeply, her eyebrows arching almost in pain as she sobbed loudly, her orgasm surging through her like a hot, tickling wave, making her body tremble, depriving her of sight and hearing for a moment.
She mewled loudly, trying to push him away as he licked devotedly everything that leaked out of her, her walls overstimulated and sore from fulfillment.
"− I read about it in one of my books, sweet wife −" He hummed, the tip of his tongue teasing her opening once in a while, making her whine softly, delicate and sensitive. "− did it feel good? −"
"− yes, husband − gods, it felt so good −" She mumbled, barely able to see with her eyes, her mind clouded from the pleasure that she had just experienced. She heard his satisfied purr as he rose, untying his breeches.
"Perfect. Now it's my turn."
Although they didn't speak to each other much, she felt that he had somehow allowed her to get a little closer to him. She knew that he didn't want questions, so she didn't dare ask him about his eye, his childhood, his relationship with his siblings or even his thoughts.
The thought that he craved her presence was enough for her.
She reasoned that they didn't need to rush.
What was quickly coming to her ears, however, were rumours; especially the ones that Lucerys Velaryon's rights to inherit Driftmark had been challenged by his uncle, Vaemond Velaryon.
The tension could be felt throughout the keep.
She saw that her husband spoke even less than usual, his gaze dull impatient during his baths, his jaw clenched in anger and something that she could not comprehend.
He led to even more frequent close-ups between them, fucking her as if he were insane, apparently trying to relieve the tension that was building up inside him, seeking relief and comfort inside her.
She noticed, however, that he couldn't sleep, sitting by the fireplace until the late hours, gazing into the flames, tense. When she came to him he would let her ride him, clasping his hands on her bare buttocks, cuddling against her breasts, but he would not reveal to her what he was thinking about, what lurked in his heart.
One morning, as Lyanna combed her hair in her chamber, she learned from her that the heir to the throne, her husband and their children would come to King's Landing to face Vaemond Velaryon in the presence of the King.
The King had been only lying down for a long time and she knew that his condition was getting worse.
It was rumoured that he had been given poppy milk to relieve his pain, but also to rule on his behalf.
Although her husband pretended that his father's state did not move him, she knew that it was not true.
That he must have feared what would happen if his half-sister claimed the throne.
"Our prince is surely displeased that his nephew will arrive here." Said Lyanna, tangling a few of her strands into a small braids, which she then tied together in a bun. She looked at her surprised.
"Why?" She asked, not understanding what in his person could upset her husband.
She remembered his nephews from their wedding and while she didn't really see them speaking to each other, she didn't think there might be any conflict between them. Lyanna looked at her with wide eyes, as if it was completely obvious.
"Prince Lucerys took your husband's eye."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol
Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88 @luna-salem @toodlesxcuddles @happinessinthebeing @siriusblackrunmeover17 @alaaaaaaa @ladybug0095 @barbiegirlaemond
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russos-ventitre · 7 months
Text
alessia russo x reader | lezioni di italiano III 🧸
✘ summary: you have a breakthrough with your emotions and it scares you
✘ warnings/tags: friends to lovers, angst, reader is mid-20s, AWFC!reader, ItalyWNT!reader
✘ words: 2717
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part i ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part ii
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iii
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iv
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part v
a/n: translations provided as always!
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tre
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Three weeks later...
Another week meant another lot of lessons, continuing to teach Alessia your mother tongue, moving past the basics and onto more intermediate stuff. She was really starting to get the hang of things, happy to switch from English to Italian mid-conversation when she sensed that's what you wanted. She was very charming in that respect, her confidence growing alongside her vocabulary.
The blonde would come over multiple times a week and listen to you go on and on about the weird rules of the Italian language, why words had to be ordered in a certain way, how the language was mostly phonetic with a few exceptions, and a few other annoying things that you wouldn't really know unless you were a native.
Nonetheless, she never got bored of listening to your lecture or rant, or sometimes both, bouncing from thought to thought as you remembered a new thing, probably confusing the hell out of the poor girl.
You paused your lecture to walk into the kitchen, your throat dryer than a desert from all your talking, grabbing a glass of water, you chugged nearly the entirety of it. Letting out a sigh as you stared out the window in front of your sink, watching as the rain slid down the pane. You watched as the droplets slid down the glass, allowing yourself to zone out as the faint rain provided white noise. You weren't sure why but you were feeling anxious, hands clammy, throat drying up again, despite you downing a glass moments ago, and your body slightly shaking like a chihuahua.
What is wrong with me?
You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, watching as it trembled before you gripped onto the edge of the sink. You dipped your head down, closing your eyes, letting out a deep sigh in hopes of calming your nerves. There was a hushed noise from behind you, but you couldn't make it out, brain all fuzzy and thoughts all deafening. It called out again, a bit louder this time, a bit more familiar.
"[y/n]?" A hand came to rest on your shoulder, pulling you out of your suffocating thoughts.
Your head lifted up, turning to meet her, the girl you couldn't stop thinking about, the girl that you were seemingly convinced was the reason why you'd been acting off recently.
"Are you okay?" She asked, her hand coming to wipe away a tear that had trailed down your face.
Was I crying?
"Hmm? Oh.. y-yeah.. just uh- needed a minute.. sorry.."
Alessia's eyes softened the longer she looked at you, seeing your heart aching just by looking deep into your irises. Without a word, she pulled you into a hug, you not at all having the strength to reject it and run and hide in your room. You had no idea you were crying and now that she had come and found you, seeing you in a state like this, you were completely embarrassed.
Her strong hand came to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as you had no choice but to bury your face in her shoulder, your own arms coming to grip at her back. Her other hand stroked down your thick frame, perfectly manicured nails calmingly scratching at your back. You didn't know why but the second your body made contact with hers you just felt all of the pent-up emotions you were containing just release into her arms.
"Hey.. it's okay.." She cooed, pulling you even closer, if that were at all possible, deep concern painting her features.
The striker led you to your living room, helping you settle on the sofa as she continued to hold you in her arms, your head now resting in her chest, as you tried evening out your breathing.
"Parla con me." [Talk to me.] She whispered, continuing to rub her hand down your back.
You took in a deep inhale, followed by a hiccup from crying, slowly lifting your head you faced her for the first time in what felt like ages. Tear stains decorating your face, alongside the swollenness of your eyes and redness of your cheeks.
"Mi dispiace.. stella." [I'm sorry.. star.] You started, dipping your head back down as you felt a knot form in your throat.
"..I don't know what's wrong with me.. everything just feels.. fuzzy and suffocating and loud all the time.." You shook your head slightly, feeling bad for not making sense, the blonde continuing to comfort you by rubbing your back, her eyes never leaving your face.
"..theres too many things going on right now in my head and I can't make the thoughts stop.." You sighed in defeat, slumping your head on her shoulder, without a single care on how it would only further increase your physical contact with the younger girl.
Alessia waited a minute before speaking, desperately trying to read your mind or will the pain away that was currently haunting you. "What kind of thoughts..?" She asked cautiously, afraid that the next things you might confess could be detrimental.
You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head as you weren't quite able to believe what you were about to say, knowing that you wouldn't be able to take it back once it was said and that it could possibly ruin your relationship with the blonde or worse, make the current club you're playing for, a now awkward environment.
"Tu mi piaci.." [I like you..] You murmured, hiding your face in her neck, wishing the floor would just consume you as you felt her skin turn hot.
The striker swallowed hard, feeling you go tense in her grip. "..mi piaci davvero.." [..I really like you..] You continued, hating yourself the more you spoke but knowing that you'd continue drowning in your own thoughts if you never admitted your feelings for her verbally.
She rested her head on top of yours, her hands never straying from your back. "Anche tu mi piaci davvero." [I really like you, too.] The younger girl whispered, a smile slowly forming on her lips as her face heated up.
Your breathing hitched in her arms, your eyes going wide as you tried to process if you were dreaming or not, heart racing a bit faster than it already had been. Slowly, you removed your face from hiding, locking eyes with the blonde.
"Posso baciarti?" [Can I kiss you?] You asked quietly, your demeanour becoming timid the longer you stared into her baby blues.
"Per favore.." [Please..]
Your hand delicately cupped her face, pulling her in for a soft kiss, the striker's hands holding onto your waist and pulling you in closer. Everything felt warm, everything felt natural, everything felt calm.
She kissed you tenderly, leaving you breathless as she slowly claimed your mouth. Her hand carefully manoeuvered to your back as she began to lean forward, laying you flat on your back on the sofa, never breaking the kiss. You felt your heart fall out of your arse as she lowered you into the cushioning, eyes rolling back as she took over, taking care of you with her soft lips and delicate hands. The blonde was now hovering over you, continuing to kiss you until your lips were swollen, you hands located on the younger girl's waist the entire time.
After some time she pulled up for air, her cheeks flush red and her chest panting as she looked down at you. Your face just as red as hers, maybe worse, looking back up at her to see her smiling down at you. Your hand came to caress her face, tongue weting your lip as you craved more. Both of you had only been given a taste but you already wanted more, craving each other's touch.
You hands grabbed at the collar of her hoodie, pulling her down for another breathtaking kiss, both of you happily humming into it. You felt all fuzzy inside, body melting against the material of sofa as you passionately kissed your girlfriend?
Are we official now?
Whatever the two of you were, you didn't care, you were just finally happy that you could be in her arms again, this time for an entirely different reason. And it felt so right.
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The Next Morning...
As you woke up, you went to stretch out your body only to be restricted in moving your arms when you suddenly realise who was attached to you. You blushed, taking note of how adorable Alessia looked whilst attached to your body, your heart absolutely swooning when she nuzzled her face closer.
Yesterday wasn't a dream..
You ran your fingers through her golden locks, giving her light scratches on her scalp to wake her up.
"Ale-" Wait.. "..baby..?" You muttered, trying to wake her.
Woah.. that feels weird.
"Mmm.. hmm..?" The blonde groaned, not really hearing what you said as her head just barely lifted off your chest.
"How'd you sleep baby?" You asked more confidently, carding your fingers through her hair.
Alessia's head immediately perked up at the term of endearment, her cheeks heating up as she locked eyes with you. Your eyes widened at her notable sudden burst of energy.
"D-Did I say the wrong thing?" You asked panicked, worried that you were maybe going too fast.
"No no! I really like that.." She admitted, blushing harder now and trying to hide her burning face with her hair.
Your face softened, your hand trailing to her face to cup her cheek. "Sei carina.." [You're cute..] You sighed, watching her melt in your hand.
"Vieni qui.." [Come here..] You motioned, helping the blonde crawl up your body and rest her head on your chest, pressing delicate kisses to the top of it as she laid her head and hand on top of your chest.
The blonde nuzzled her face in your neck, a place that was quickly becoming her favourite place to be, pressing a soft kiss to your skin before settling.
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Later that week...
It had only been a few days since the two of you became official, the both of you able to spend some time together before Arsenal camp resumed. It was nice being in each other’s company, Alessia taking it into her own hands and slowly moving into your flat, not that you were one to complain. You adored the blonde, you felt empty when she wasn't around, so having her stay at your flat was refreshing, especially when you would find some of her belongings scattered around your newly shared home. It gave you something to smile about during your day.
"Amorina.." [Little love..] You sighed, stroking your fingers through her hair.
"Hmm..?" She hummed back, smiling softly as she nuzzled herself closer to your chest.
"Are we gonna tell the team?" You questioned, feeling her head lift off your chest.
"Umm.." The blonde pursed her lips together, looking up at you. "..we can do, it's whatever you want though, love."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm." She responded with a nod, pecking your lips quickly before settling back down on your chest.
"Or we can keep it to ourselves.." The taller girl continued, a hand slithering around the back of your torso to pull you closer.
"..our little secret." She giggled.
"Il nostro piccolo segreto?" [Our little secret?]
"Sì, il nostro piccolo segreto, amore mio." [Yeah, our little secret, my love.] The blonde hummed back happily.
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First day back...
Alessia offered to drive the two of you to training today, especially since you stayed over at hers for the night, intentionally bringing your kit bag and all your training necessities with you. It's not like you weren't expecting the offer and you definitely were going to miss out on an opportunity for her to drive you around. The thing is you liked driving, it was nice and calming, you just weren't fully comfortable with the whole idea of driving on the other side of the road.
You happily took a seat inside the blonde's Mercedes, almost instantly feeling her hand coming to rest on your thigh as you settled into the car. Heat crawled up your neck, all the way to your cheeks as you watched her fingers gently stroke at the material covering your leg. Her eyes were fixated elsewhere, too busy fiddling with her car to notice your obvious flustered self.
"Ready to go?" She asked, pulling her sunglasses from the top of her head, onto the bridge of her nose, smiling in your direction.
"Y-Yeah.." You mumbled back, struggling to get your words out.
"Tesoro.. miei occhi sono su qui, amore." [Darling.. my eyes are up here, love.] Alessia took her other hand, tracing her fingers under your chin as she tilted it upward, finally meeting your gaze.
"Tutto bene?" [Everything okay?] She tilted her head down slightly, allowing her sunglasses to slide down the bridge of her nose, revealing her ocean-blue eyes.
"Mmm." You nodded back, lips pursed together as her fingers continued to linger below your chin.
"Parole, amore." [Words, love.] The striker muttered back, only further making you blush.
"I'm okay baby.. promise." You smiled back shyly, knowing full well that she was doing all this to wind you up right before training.
"Good." She hummed back, pulling you in for a breathless kiss before swiftly pulling away to reverse out of the driveway, you sat in the passenger seat feeling all dizzy from your quick exchange.
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Entering the building with Alessia, standing very closeby her, earned the two of you a lot of knowing looks and a few hushed whispers. Everyone had their eyes on you two, some faint 'oooohs' and some light teasing towards you both occurred throughout the entire day. To say that the team didn't know was a lie, people sensed something between the two of you the minute you transferred to the club. It was almost like you and Alessia were the last two to know about it.
"So.. you and Less.." Victoria started, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked back inside.
"-stop.. she was just doing me a favour.." You brushed her off, shaking your head as you looked at the ground.
"Tell that to the smile plastered on your face.."
"Vaffanculo Pelova.." [Fuck off..] You muttered, watching as the brunette ran over to gossip with the other girls.
You gathered your belongings, changing out of your dirty kit, before making your way towards your blonde lover, sitting in front of her cubby as she packed her own things away.
"Pronti?" [Ready?] You asked, arms resting on your legs as you looked up at her with a smile. You weren't exactly going out of your way to pretend like you weren't head over heels in love with the girl, although your tough exterior was softening anytime you were around her and it wasn't going unnoticed by your teammates.
"Quasi, tesoro." [Almost, darling.] She muttered back, shoving the last few bits of her things in her kitbag before slinging it over her shoulder. Luckily the two of you were alone so you were able to be yourselves in front of each other, but that didn't mean that someone couldn't walk in at any given moment.
When she finished, she blindly reached her hand out in front of you, you happily lacing your fingers with hers, lightly pressing a kiss to her knuckles as you stood up. She peered her head out of the dressing room, seeing if anyone was still around, before guiding you out into the corridor.
"Really.." Leah snorted, unable to hide the shit-eating grin on her face as she watched the two of you slowly make your exit, both of your faces bright red.
Alessia swiftly turned around, hiding herself behind you, hand still laced with your own. "You scared the shit out of me Leah!" Your girlfriend whined, resting her chin on your shoulder.
"Don't you dare Williamson." You spoke sternly, watching as she laughed quietly to herself.
"I won't.. go on then you two." She waved her hand, ushering for the both of you to leave.
"..I think a certain Meado owes me 25 quid.." She mumbled to herself as she watched you wrap an arm around Alessia, protectively pulling her close to your body.
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‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎← part ii ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏part iv →
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tibby-art · 4 months
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I’m adoring the Hitman AU. Scar and Cub share a braincell and Grian just looks like she wants to go home and sleep.
I’m curious as to what powers ConVex has. Or what their motives are with Grian. (ConVex trying to corrupt her.)
I've been picturing Cub and Scar's vex powers as being able to transform into a vex form (pale blueish skin, white hair/eyes, wings, fangs, claws, the whole nine yards). The forms allow them to move at lightning speed and fly, making them perfect as silent killers in their roles as hitmen. They're super sneaky and fast.
I think the vex work with pacts as well - if you make a pact with a vex, they're unable to go against said pact. That's how they ended up working for the government as hitmen. I imagine that in their past they were very powerful and corrupt criminals at Concorp (standard protocol for convex in an au i'd say). One day the government catches up to them, and they're given a choice: Go to top-security prison for one bajillion years because you're a dangerous vex criminal OR make a pact with the government and work under them, using your powers for good. So, Cub and Scar are technically here by choice, but their choices were limited. They're bound by a fae contract that they must perform their given duties as hitmen - they bend the rules and find loopholes whenever possible, though. Vex are tricky like that. They'll get ordered to take out a dangerous crime boss, but because you didn't technically specify that you wanted that done today, they took the day off to go golfing. They'll get to it tomorrow :J (The government learns the hard way that when you order Cub and Scar to kill someone you must specify to them not to eat the person because that has happened and that will happen again and everything is terrible)
Grian is in a similar situation, but he was given less of a choice. While Cub and Scar made their own pacts with the vex to gain their powers, Grian's watcher powers are something she did not ask for at all. The Watchers are much more mysterious than the Vex, not a lot is known about them and they're considered almost a myth until Grian shows up. This makes her more dangerous and unpredictable, in the government's eyes. Grian isn't allowed to just walk away and go back to being a normal member of society - nobody knows what he's capable of (not even Grian knows) so the government needs to keep a close eye on her. When she's paired up with Cub and Scar for missions, the vex are ordered to keep an eye on Grian, and step in if things get too dangerous. Cub and Scar think this is BS and they almost pity Grian, deep down, since he's essentially in the same spot they're in but worse. When their pact says to keep Grian from getting too dangerous, they interpret it as, "Well, if we help her figure out her powers, she's more in control and that will make everything safer :J"
I don't think Convex is trying to corrupt her - I think the government is the one being manipulative here. Convex sees it. I think they genuinely want to help her grow and discover new abilities and how to use them. They're Convex, though, so they might not be the best role models lol. I think what they're trying to do is help her get more confidence and more control over her powers. Cub is a scientist who is very good at figuring out how Grian's abilities work, what he can and can't do, the limits of said abilities, etc. and Scar has the most creative and insane ideas on how to utilize watcher powers that it sometimes leads to discovering something brand new. I can picture him being like, ":J Hey have you ever tried using your watcher powers to spy on a specific location from like, fifty miles away" and Grian is like "Scar that's ridiculous that's not how it works" and then she tries it and is amazed when that actually does work. Scar's like ":J yeah I made that up I didnt think it would work Can you spy on Disneyland now"
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helplesslypurple77 · 7 months
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Day 3-Fukuzawa/Reader w/ Lingerie and Wedding Night
Notes: btw the lingerie im describing is the Lorna Lace collection in white. It's super pretty you should google it. Haha lol, and i also realized halfway through writing this that this is technically a rich CEO au, jumping on the hype train i guess
I actually have a healthy relationship with my father, but like any good woman i have a weakness for sexy middle aged men
You had always known this would happen. It was the oldest daughter's duty to marry a man and carry on the family line. This was the fact that had been drilled into your head since you could walk. A girl could not inherit the daily company no, that duty went to the male children, no matter how dumb they were. And you had accepted it as well. It's not like you liked it or anything, in fact you thought the entire rule was old fashioned and doomed to fail, but there really wasn't much choice in the matter.
And you weren't too unhappy, you yourself didn't want to run the company, but your second sister deserved to, not your arrogant, lazy brothers. Second sister had worked hard all her life, was intelligent and beautiful and kind and deserved to inherit the company over the men. Everyone knew it, the servants whispered and gossip was prevalent around high society, but father refused, so intent on tradition that he doomed the company to fail. All you wanted in life was to live a comfortable life with a handsome man who treated you with respect, and maybe have a child or two.
So that's why you were here, a newlywed woman to a man twenty years your senior, sold off like cattle with no choice in the matter. You had never even seen your new husband. The marriage talks had happened without your input obviously and the ceremony was shot down by your father who, ‘didn't want to waste resources on a stuffy event like that.’ All you had were rumors, for your new husband did not like public appearances, and there were suspiciously few photos of him.
Yukichi Fukuzawa, the president of ADA corp, and a man of high social standing and wealth. He was forty-five, apparently a ‘highly upstanding person from a highly reputable background,’ and very wealthy. And also your new husband. You supposed you were lucky to ‘score’ such a highly sought after man, even if he was a lot older than you but you had at least hoped to marry a man closer to you in age. But if you were lucky he would leave you to your own devices and let you live your life happy, if a little lonely.
A knock sounded and second sister peaked her head in, sending you a smile. You relaxed, sinking back onto the soft silk of the bed you were sitting on, and shot her a nervous smile. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her.
Second sister Helena was tall, and with her long golden hair and blue eyes she could have easily been mistaken for a model. She looked nothing like you, and it made sense, given that you had different mothers. Father had sired each of his children with a different woman in an effort to create the perfect male heir. And because father was a man of high standing many women were lining up for the chance to have a child support check. And of course, he picked only the most attractive women. Second sister’s mother was a Swedish runway model, while yours had been a movie actress. Your brother's mothers were also varied, from models to actresses to intellectuals, all with stunning looks and the brains to match. Your father might be a douchebag but his theory held water, all the children of your family were stunning beauties, and all intelligent as well.
She came to sit next to you on the bed, and passed a small box in your direction with an apologetic smile. “I missed your twenty-fifth birthday sis, so here.” You shoot her a grateful thanks, fingering the box in your lap. It's small, maybe five inches and perfectly square, wrapped in colorful polka dot paper. You carefully slip the sides open, trying not to make a mess. Your sister giggles beside you.
“You wanna hear something funny?” You stop, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Whenever that line excites your sister's mouth, she's usually talking about one of two things. Boys, or the most horrific thing you can think of. You'll never forget the one time she preceded that one line by telling you most gleefully that her ex boyfriend had ‘accidentally’ gotten run over then lit on fire then drowned in the ocean. She glares balefully at your expression. “What…it's nothing bad. I met your new husband, and girl,” She pauses, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly. “He's such a dilf! I'm so happy for you!”
It's about now when you get the paper off the present, and see the pink box with black letters scrawled across it that say , ‘Agent Provocateur’ in a pretty curly font. You choke on your spit, and start coughing violently. Your sister pounds you on the back in good spirits. When you finally finish your coughing fit, you turn to her with a bemused smile on your face. “I dont no weather to hit you or hug you, Helena.” She smiles. “Open it.” She says, excitement all over her face. “I just know you're going to love it.”
You do as she instructs, and from within the crinkly tissue paper you pull the naughty treasure inside. You shake your head with a smile, if nothing else your sister has always had good taste. Its white, befitting of a wedding/birthday gift, and the small amount of fabric it possesses is a pretty floral lace. The bra is a half cup, with little white bows at the spot where the strap starts. The panties are lace as well, with a diamond pattern line of holes going all the way around, leaving the embarrassing parts uncovered. It even comes with white lace stockings, and a garter to hold them up. You shoot your sister an embarrassed smile. “Thank you Helena, they're absolutely beautiful.” She gives you a small side hug in response. “I know.” She says. “Now try them on.”
All complaints are useless against her, she uses everything from pleading to guilt tripping and at some point you just give up and do as she requests. And as you gaze on yourself in the mirror, you can really say you're glad you did. You look innocent, but also sexy and powerful and you think that if you were marrying the man you loved you would wear this gift. You feel kind of bad that it's going to stay sealed away in a box for your entire life. The bra hugs your breast perfectly, shoving them up a little to provide the perfect amount of cleavage, and the lace panties frame your butt perfectly. The stockings and garter just add the perfect bit of naughty to the otherwise innocent(as innocent as Lingerie can get) picture. Your sister pokes her head around the bathroom door, grinning as you shriek in embarrassment and yank on the silk robe she had left you. Is suspiciously short, only reaching mid thigh but it's better than nothing.
She shoves you into a chair, and gets started on your makeup. You sigh. “Why do I even need makeup, it's not like anybody is going to see me.” She tuts threateningly. “It's to complete the look. Now don't move.” She starts on your base, and for a while the only sound is her gentle humming, and the squirt of makeup products.
It's not until Helena moves onto the hair that she breaks the peaceful mood. “And did father not tell you? You're supposed to ‘consummate’ the marriage tonight.” You open your eyes abruptly with a shout of surprise. “What?” She shrugs. “I guess he didn't, well anyway he should be coming…” Helena checks her watch with a glance, as she skilfully braids white and pink ribbons into your hair. “In about two minutes!”
Even with your shrieks of protest you're not allowed to move until she finishes her hair, and by the time she does it's already too late. She sends you a smile as she picks up her purse and kisses you on the cheek. You glare. “Helena! You took so long i dont have time to change.” She opens the door and you receive a playful grin. “I know,” She says, and you have the dreadful feeling you’ve fallen into a trap. “That was the plan. Have fun big sister.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you a nervous wreck done up in lingerie, a honey trap just waiting for a man to fall right in. You rush to the bathroom, throwing a glance at the large mirror. You must admit she did a good job, you look very pretty with pink eyeshadow and gold glitter and your hair done up a sexy half updo, but you don't want to look good. You don't want to look like you were waiting here to seduce him. Hopefully you can just explain yourself and the two of you can just sleep. Of what if he thought you were trying to seduce him and got all cocky. That would be humiliating. Your pride would be forever tarnished and your dreams of a quiet life ruined. All because of Helena and her terrible ideas!
Your (probably too dramatic) spiral of doom is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. You take a deep breath, steady your heart and tie your bathrobe tight, and answer the door.
The sight that greets you when you open the door is surprising to say the least and you suddenly understand what your sister meant when she said he was ‘a dilf’, for the man in the hallway is, quite literally, the quintessential dilf. He is tall, and oh so handsome, with silver hair and piercing gray blue eyes surrounded by the slightest wrinkles. He clears his throat. “Are you Miss Name?”
You thank your sister for making you learn a poker face and send him a small, blank smile. “Yes, are you Mr. Fukuzawa?” Those sexy eyes scan your face, catching on the gold glitter in the corners of your eyes before he nods. “May I come in Miss?” You open the door wider and allow him in, your smile never wavering. You take your seats, sitting across from each other conveniently ignoring the bed on the other side of the room. In horror you realize the box from your sister is still sitting on the table, but a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you see the top of the box is flipped over, the incriminating lettering hidden from sight.
It's hard not to notice how unfairly sexy Fukuzawa looks in a suit, and it makes all these really inappropriate thoughts of sitting on that lap pour into your brain. But still, you do your best to uphold your smile as you speak. “I'm sorry Mr. Fukuzawa, my father unfortunately forgot to inform me that you would be coming tonight.” Your father most definitely did not forget, it's more than likely that he didn't tell you in fear that you would escape. You cursed your father out in your brain, all while maintaining that smile on your lips.
He nods. “It is alright. I didn't intend to consummate this wedding in the first place.” This is what you wanted, but for some reason you feel a little let down. Maybe he doesn't find you attractive? You sigh, he must be blind then. Or gay.
“I see.” is all you say. The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. It's almost comical how your mood has taken a dramatic turn. Not five minutes ago you were lamenting the fact that your husband might be interested, and now you were unhappy that he in fact, was not interested in you. A slight glare entered your eyes and with your mouth still curved into that small smile you made quite the threatening picture. Fukuzawa spoke again, probably fishing for things to say in an effort to make you more comfortable, because of corse he was kind and able to read the room, and of course he didnt want to fuck you.
“The weather is lovely today isn't it Miss Name?”
“I suppose.” You know you sound curt and unfriendly, and you know it's not fair of you, but you're really annoyed. Fukuzawa’s smile wavers a bit at your curt attitude, but he still smiles comfortingly at you. This only makes you angrier. How dare he be kind and handsome and rich, and not want to fuck you. Life is unfair.
$$$
Fukuzawa feels very uncomfortable right now. Because of course his new wife is a beautiful young thing who deserved someone more close to her age, of course she was upset with the plan that had been forced upon her. He most dearly wished he had been born ten years later, so he may woo her properly. He had read the report he was given of her. Miss Name was highly educated, of excellent parentage and absolutely gorgeous. She probably had a young and handsome boyfriend she wanted to marry.
If not for this whole ordeal she could have been with the man she loved, not a stuffy old man like him. It's really no wonder she’s upset. He sends her a small smile, hoping to sooth her probably injured feelings.
“I'm sorry you had to be involved in this mess Miss Name, I know this situation isn't ideal for both of us.” For some reason, her expression doesn't change at all. Her smile is still in place, but Fukuzawa can tell from her eyes that she’s upset. Her voice is curt when she responds.
“Thank you.” The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. He shivers involuntarily as the room falls back to silence, forcefully keeping his eyes away from her legs, covered in pure white lace, and the hint of a garter peeking out from under that small silk bathrobe. She didn't wear those for him for heaven sakes, she didn't even know he was coming tonight. He has no right to fantasize about what she’s wearing under that bathrobe, she may be his wife, but she will never desire him like that.
He clears his throat. “There's something I must tell you, I have an adopted son.” She perks up, the collar of her bathrobe falling a little, revealing a small strip of tantalizing white lace. The room feels too hot. “Really? How old is he?” The cold tone of her voice is melting away and Fukuzawa congratulates himself on the change of topic. “His name is Ranpo and he's five years old. Would you like to see a picture?” She nods, and Fukuzawa pulls out his phone, and shows her the lockscreen. She leans forward, and Fukuwawa is treated to a flash of white bows and lace as she coos at the photo. “He's so cute!”
Fukuzawa wonders if god hates him. Because of course his new wife is a pretty young thing who doesn't mind the fact that he has a son, and is whose collar is falling more and more, treating him to a divine temptation of white lace, and who will never love a boring older man like him. He wonders why the hell he's acting like a young man with these dirty thoughts, and takes a deep breath as she hands his phone back. The ice on her face has melted a bit, and she looks a bit less like she wants to flay him alive, although she still looks a bit sulky. It's much too adorable. Her lips are in a little pout, and it only succeeded in highlighting how plump and silky they look. They have a pink gloss smeared across them, and all Fukuzawa can think about is those lips wrapped around— he almost smacks himself across the face.
Ok so, Fukuzawa can admit that he is very much in lust with his new wife, it's pretty clear and he feels quite like a degenerate, he just hopes she cant tell. It's clear that she doesn't want him, heck she doesn't even seem to like him that much. And he would rather die, than ever force himself on her in any way. He clears his throat with a cough, shifting a little in his seat. “If it would make you more happy, you could have a lover, if that is what you wish.”
Any ice that had defrosted with Ranpo’s picture is immediately incinerated by her burning hot anger. She sits upright, her spine straight and her eyes burning. “Are you implying that I will cheat on you?” Fukuzawa waves his hands anxiously in denial. “No, that's not what i—” The fire abates, then returns in full force. “Wait, do you have a lover?” Fukuzawa shakes his head. ‘No! I only thought that you might have a younger boyfriend you wished to marry instead of me. After all, this decision was made without your input.” Fukuzawa is relieved to see the fire abate, replaced instead with a sweet kind of thanks.
She leans forward a little, a small sincere smile curving across her pretty lips. “I have no one. But it was very kind of you to ask.” She says, as the ties holding the bathrobe come looser and looser. “And even if I had someone, I would never ask for something like that.” Fukuzawa is horrified by the spike of hope that rises in his chest, pillaging through the walls around his heart and stabbing right in, warming his heart with a futile hope. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and emotions as she speaks.
“Would you like something to drink? I have some delicious green tea.” He nods, hoping the soothing aroma and taste will calm him down. She stands, and moves to the small kitchenette across from the bed, starting the tea. She speaks as she works. “So, I heard you met my sister Helena? Tall, blond…” Fukuzawa vividly remembers Helena, a tall blond woman who barged into his dinner and in no uncertain terms told him that if he mistreated her sister she would ruin his life. “Yes, she said hello to me at dinner.”
“I hope she didn't bother you, Helena is harmless, I promise.” It's clear how much love she has for her sister, it drips from every word as she chatters on, excitedly telling Fukuzawa story after story of her sister. Fukuzawa hopes dearly that one day, she will speak of him and Ranpo so fondly. His thoughts are imputent, he knows that, but it's in his best interests to not deny them. He's too old for all of this.
“Here you are, Mr. Fukuzawa.” She leans down, placing a fragrant cup of green tea on the table in front of him. “Call me Fukuzawa.” She shoots him a smile and a nod. “Call me Name.” It's small really, but it feels good. The atmosphere has become pleasant, so different from the earlier tense and icy landscape, and Fukuzawa feels relief, until of course, disaster strikes.
She trips slightly, and the glass of green tea she is carrying spills all over her chest, staining the white fabric green. Thankfully it's iced, but she still panics, probably worried about staining. And you see, the thing is, Fukuzawa knows he should turn around, he knows she’s panicking and she forgot herself for a moment, and he knows he should clear his throat or turn around or something. But he still watches in slow motion as she undoes the ties, pulling off that bathrobe and tossing it hurriedly away.
It's somehow straight out of his fantasies, and yet a curse of his nightmares. It's white, and lace and see-through and Fukuzawa feels all the blood in his body rush south. Maybe it's that the slight glimpses were teasing him the entire evening, or maybe he’s just too pent up, but he feels just like a virgin again, discovering porn for the first time. And it kind of is porn, forbidden 3d porn and he's going to die. She looks heavenly, the lace hugging her pretty boobs, the panties hiding nothing at all, and the garter and stocking combo just straight out of any man's wet dream. He feels like a creep, like a gross disgusting perverted old man and he wants her to suffocate him with that pretty pussy all wrapped up in white lace, he wants those pouty lips on his cock, he wants those legs wrapped around his waist while he pounds her into the bed—
His dick is hard, his mouth is open, and then she looks up, meeting his eyes and Fukuzawa feels fear for the first time in a while.
$$$
You know what happened, you were panicking about expensive lingerie and green tea stains and all you wanted to do was get the stain away from the actual underwear as fast as possible. But as your eyes meet Fukuzawa’s own and you take in his state, you can't really say your sorry. He looks wrecked. His eyes are hazy, his mouth open in shock, and the most telling evidence of all is the bulge in his pants. You let a small smirk overtake your face. He wanted you after all. Elation and arousal are the confusing cocktail at work in your stomach as you saunter around the kitchen table, and sit yourself directly on his inviting lap.
This seems to snap him right out of his daze, and he gestures frantically, an apology on his tongue. “I'm so sorry Name, i didn't—” You press a finger to his lips, feeling sexy and confident as you grind down slightly on the rather large bulge in his pants. He lets out a gratifying grunt, as you lean down, running your hands through his soft silver hair. Your voice is a pur when you speak. “You wanna know something?” you know you look devastatingly sexy, and it makes you feel powerful. “I really like you Fukuzawa.” His cheeks flush all cute, and his dick twitches under you. You continue. “And I want you. Do you want me?” His voice is husky, but still slightly formal when he speaks. “Yes. But are you sure you want me?”
You let out a coy little giggle, and grind down again. His little stifled noises are unfairly sexy, you can feel wetness in your panties already.
“I want you so bad hubby. Now kiss me.” With no more words he grants your request.
Fukuzawa kisses just like he looks, gentle and deep, devouring your very soul with his tongue. It makes your pussy throb desperately, and it makes you feel rushed and hot and the whole thing feels somehow even more sexy. Your hands knot in his hair, tangling the strands with your sweaty fingers as you rut together, barely covered pussy on still clothed cock, cores together. You know your whining, letting out little gasps and breaths and as he hoists you up, draping you right across the kitchen table, hands carefully pulling the crotch of your panties away from your drooling pussy. Its so dirty somehow, here you are, about to be fucked senseless by your sexy new husband, right on your kitchen table. You can't wait. He steps back, shedding his coat and tie, and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons.
He looks so sexy above you, panting as he slips a finger into your pussy, stroking your inner walls slowly. “More.” You whine out, the needy tone in your voice embarrassingly clear. Fukuzawa chuckles, adding another finger as per your request. “Do you have condoms? I'm afraid I didn't bring any.” He speeds up his fingers, playing slightly with your clit, and your head falls back. “Don't care. Maybe you can get me pregnant, hubby.” You can tell it affects him by the way his fingers retreat, swiftly replaced by his cock. You moan loudly as he bottoms out, as he hoists your legs over his shoulder, still almost fully clothed. It turns you on greatly, the contrast from your almost naked self, and his composed, still clothed person. His cock is thick, stretching your walls apart and it pulses inside you. You want him to fuck you stupid senseless.
Your hands grip the side of the table as he begins to move, his pace betraying his sense of urgency. Each thrust is deep, hard, and it moves you back on the table, before his hand on your legs pulls you back. His hair is sweat soaked, sticking to his cheeks as he fucks you, his eyes locked on your own.
“Feel good baby?” He pants, his voice a groan. “Yes, ohh so good.” Your voice is loud, and slightly husky with panted moans and breathes. You're seriously going to explode. For the first time in your life you want to thank your father, for finding you a sexy husband who could fuck you crazy. You still hated the man, but he had done some things right in his life.
He's ruining your insides, and you can feel every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you, all berriors gone. You feel unimaginably full and hot and purfect. He stops to lean down, and grips your thighs in both hands, speeding up his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as he hits that spot, over and over and over again.
“Oh Fukuzawa!” He stops his thrusts, pausing deep inside you and you pant. “Yukichi.”
“What?”
“Call me Yukichi.” Your clenches, even as your heart rate speeds up and you gasp out his name, panting it like your last breath. “Yukichi!” The last of your sentence dissolves in a moan as he resumes, all pretense gone, slamming in and out and in and out, and destroying your insides. “You sound so pretty like this, screaming my name.” His voice is rough and full of pants, and so, so sexy. Your hands leave the edge of the table and reach for your breasts, playing with your nipples harshly. You can feel your orgasm building, that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach, begging to be released.
“ ‘m cumming.” You warn, as his thrusts stutter, losing their rhythm. “Me too.” His voice is deep, and as he slams in one more time, and a hot feeling shoots inside of you, you lose it. You know you scream when you come, and at some point he drops your legs and kisses you, his dick still lodged inside of you. And as you come down from your high, and you feel his strong arms carrying you to the bed, you feel hopeful for your future with your sweet new husband, and all the good fuckings that will come with it.
Taglist: @mulit05ho3st4n
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bonefall · 1 month
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would whitewater end up getting dark forested for her support of mudclaw, her hypocrisy, and her neglect?
There's a VERY high chance of it. She's almost certainly damned unless someone defended her VERY well (which is unlikely)
When StarClan makes a ruling, they aren't neccesarily deciding if you are Guilty or Innocent. They're determining if you are worthy of their ranks. You have to prove you belong in Heaven, NOT that you're not bad enough for Hell.
For most warriors this is a very simple yes, and no trial is required... but if you so much as OFFEND StarClan with your bad vibes, they might damn you just for that. Whitewater has a really bad reputation for everything she's done.
The Queen’s Rights actually work "legally" on the assumption that judgement is outsourced to StarClan, because mortals (Oakstar) can't be trusted to be impartial on this specifically. The birth of kittens cannot be used as evidence of codebreaking behavior... on the mortal plane.
StarClan was ALREADY going to give her a review just based on her affair with Mudclaw. If it ended on the Great Journey like they initially planned and she invoked QR with her Ba-less litter, there wouldn't even be a trial.
But that's not how this story goes. She was a ShadowClan cat involved in Mudclaw's rebellion, because she wanted to support him.
SHE might have only done that because she wanted to avoid ThunderClan "putting their paws in another Clan's business" or some other excuse, but StarClan says
"L + Ratio + Supported your baby daddy's coup + Set the peat on fire + What were YOU doing putting your paws in another Clan's business"
StarClan didn't even accept MUDCLAW'S explaination. They didn't even accept VIXENLEAP'S excuse, just some Thistle Law-loving RiverClan warrior who joined because Hawkyfrosty asked her to. They were always going to give Whitewater a hard time for this.
Whitewater might have been able to wrack up some goodgirl points by being a very loyal ShadowClan warrior..... and she did, a little.
But she kept her head down. No spectacular feats of redemption. Just tried to live quiet. That doesn't incur a lot of favor.
And then, the part you've been waiting for... how she treated Owlkit. Theyyyy didn't like that.
If she was sooo unattached to her mate, why did his smiting BOTHER her so much, hm?
She might have won favor for doing something very noble and giving the kittens to the bereaved Torear, but she KEPT Owlkit. Any love she had that influenced that choice drained away
and she didn't do the "right thing" for him by asking for help. She just did the bare minimum at best, and hid her abuse at worst.
Unfortunately though, the neglect and emotional abuse did not earn as much ire on their own as you're hoping. StarClan is (and was) full of much worse abusers. Hillrunner, for example.
Most of StarClan's condemnation would be based around Mudclaw's Rebellion... but they've been waiting a LONG time to process the surviving non-WindClan rebels. So... she's probably doomed.
Unfortunately I cannot imagine she takes it well. She completely ignores that Owlclaw was just a footnote in her condemnation, and uses it to confirm everything she ever believed.
"That kitten WAS meant to die that night. I should have dragged that child out into the storm with the rest of its cursed siblings. I've been shoved into the spot where Owlclaw should be!"
Hmm... maybe I should axe her shortly before the Great Battle, and actually have HER be the one who attacks Owlclaw's kittens. It would be pretty horrifying if she was the one who killed Weaselkit, her own grandchild.
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earlgarden-archived · 11 months
Text
A love that will last an eternity
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ft. Jing Yuan, RaidenEi!reader
synopsis. You are the ruler of Inazuma, a planet that is known as "the nation of eternity". You come in contact with Jing Yuan, the general of Luofu. How does your relationship bloom?
Warnings: Fem!reader, spoilers of Ei's backstory, unlike Ei, you do not trap your people and try to take their visions, you'll just be trying to find eternity, might be ooc.
This is so long lmao. I tried to make it short but I had too many ideas to make it short 😭
Resources were running low on the Luofu, hence, the General was sent to the closest planet to negotiate plans to stock up resources. The planet in question? It was Inazuma, known as the nation of eternity. JING YUAN was arranged to meet the ruler of Inazuma, you, the Raiden Shogun.
Jing Yuan found you to be very stoic. And he thought that was just how you were. But to his surprise, he found out from your long time friend, Yae Miko, that the Almighty Shogun he has been meeting was actually a puppet. And that you were inside the Raiden Shogun, finding your so called eternity. Jing Yuan, admittedly, thought it was quite strange. But, upon realising what you've been through, your sister's death, losing your friends one by one, he completely understood your choice. He himself went through many deaths in his life, but he knew that confining yourself and having a puppet rule your planet was wrong. Even if he hadn't properly met you before, he knew that he had to try convincing you to come out.
So with Yae Miko's permission, he entered the Plane of Euthymia for the first time. Of course, you were surprised. He has trespassed without your permission, yet you weren't surprised that Yae Miko was the one behind his entry. However, due to him trespassing without your permission, you decided to propose a fight. If he were to best you, then you would allow him to talk. Though he accepted the challenge, he was unsure of how strong you were. He considered to decline, since this wasn't even his planet that he was saving. But he decided that if he were to save your planet, then he would gain more connections with other people. Leading to him accepting. The battle was long, and tiresome, there didn't seem to be a clear victor. And this was starting to drain you guys' stamina.
"It appears that the rumors hold true; you are truly a formidable warrior," you say, your voice slightly strained from the prolonged battle, your breath still catching up. A genuine smile graces Jing Yuan's face,
"you flatter me, Almighty Shogun. You, too, are a strong opponent. How about this, this fight has been going on for far too long, and just like you, I have some business I need to do in Xianzhou Luofu. Why don't we talk things out instead of fighting?"
After a few negotiations, you both agreed on a conclusion. Jing Yuan will show you the Xianzhou Luofu, as an example to how a nation will look with their ruler present for centuries.
Fast forward to when you and Jing Yuan arrive on the Luofu. As you walked around with Jing Yuan, you two got a lot of stares from the people in Xianzhou. But it's no surprise, it's not everyday that you see the Almighty Shogun of Inazuma and the General of the Luofu in one place. Strangely, you didn't quite understand why everyone was staring.
"why are people staring at us? Don't they know it's rude to stare?"
"well, it's their first time seeing the Almighty Shogun and the General walking together. Of course they would stare at us."
"it's not like we're here to cause trouble. Why can't they just mind their own business..."
As you two walked around Xianzhou, trying different foods, looking at different attractions, you both were indulging in some small talk. Jing Yuan thought you were very cute. You were more casual as compared to your puppet, and he felt like this was a breath of fresh air. Especially since you acted like he was just a normal person, instead of fearing him due to his position.
After a long day of walking around Xianzhou, you both decided to sit down for a while to eat some Xianzhou delicacies. While eating some dessert, you noticed something poking out of the general's pocket.
"what is... this strange device?" You say, pointing at his phone in his pocket. Judging by his face, Jing Yuan was caught off guard. You don't know what a phone was? Have you been in the plane of euthymia for so long that you had lost touch of the real world?
"this is a phone? Do you not know what a phone is?" He says while taking out his phone, and letting you look at it. "It's so slim... This is unlike anything I've seen before. Oh! What's this..?" He moves his head to watch from over your shoulder, and sees that you've accidentally opened the camera app.
"this is the camera app. You can take photos with this app." He looks over to see your face, he expected to see amusement displayed on your face, but he was met with the sight of your confused face.
"photos...?" Oh. You also didn't know what photos were. After an attempt to explain what photos were, you were left with even more confusion than you had before, so he proposed to take a photo of you to demonstrate how they work.
While taking a photo of you sitting down and drinking dango milk, he couldn't help but admire the way your hair moves in the wind, and how elegant you were in your inazuman clothes.
"is it done?" You say, interrupting his thoughts,
"wait a moment, I just need to find the right angle" he reassures, as he crouches down, he could hear you complain under your breath about how photos were such a time consuming activity, making him chuckle a bit.
After a moment, he walked back to the seat right as you were finishing up your drink. Upon seeing your photo, he loved the way your face morphed from confusion to admiration.
"this photo... Is so beautiful..." You quietly mumble, unknowingly leaning closer to Jing Yuan, causing him to slightly blush. A few passerbyers were shocked to see the well-known general of Luofu blushing because of a girl.
The day where you had to go back to Inazuma came. And Jing Yuan absolutely dreaded for the day to come. He loved spending time with you, and if you went back, he had to travel so far just to visit you again. So, on the morning of your departure, he surprised you with a little gift.
"is this... The device with the camera app?" Jing Yuan gave you the phone for you to examine
"yes, but not only can it take photos, but you can also communicate with others"
Jing Yuan taught you everything about how to text, how to call, and how to send voice messages. By the time you guys were finished talking, it was already time to go. You both decided that you would walk together one last time before you depart. As you walked, he added your contact to his contact list, he was about to name your contact before you interrupted
"no need for the formalities. You can just call me y/n." You say, looking at his screen, where your contact was named "Raiden Shogun"
Jing Yuan chuckled, he was glad he could finally call you by a shorter name, it was getting quite tiring saying "Raiden Shogun" every time to address you.
You finally reach the ship that will be carrying you back to Inazuma, and Jing Yuan doesn't feel like letting you go just yet. Even if you guys have contact with each other, it doesn't feel the same as walking with you in real life. Before boarding the ships, you both exchange your goodbyes, and Jing Yuan reminds you to text often.
As you board the ship, you look back one more time, just to see his face one more time. Once you board the ship, you begin to realise how fond you were of Jing Yuan. You seemed to enjoy yourself more, you were smiling more, and it was even the first time you had someone address your actual name for a long time. For the first time, you wanted to land as quick as possible, so you could talk to Jing Yuan again. You look at your contacts, which only contained Jing Yuan. You felt like your visit to the Xianzhou Luofu was refreshing, you finally realised that your ways were not right, and you were ready to correct them.
...
1 year has past since you met Jing Yuan, and you two have been texting almost everyday. You were updating Jing Yuan on your nation's situation, and he was giving more advice on what choices need to be made, and what was needed for a fully functioning nation. You completely trusted him, after all, he's lived for centuries and has witnessed the Luofu's growth. But you could also feel the way your chest felt warm whenever you had a video call with him. And he's felt the same way. You both really wanted to see eachother again, to walk together again, maybe even have Jing Yuan visit Inazuma again. But you both knew that being in charge of a nation means that there is hardly any time to visit other planets. Especially since you've taken full control of Inazuma now.
The summer festival in Inazuma was just around the corner. Thankfully, the one in charge of planning the summer festival was the company owned by Yoimiya, Naganohara Fireworks. Though you had a short break, you weren't planning on watching the fireworks. Whenever you saw the fireworks, you were always alone, and it always hurt to be reminded that all your previous friends were no longer here. Coincidentally, Jing Yuan has gotten a two week break around this time. As well, just a few days ago you were complaining how lonely you would be on the day of the festival, which really made Jing Yuan's heart ache. He relates to the feeling of being alone, he's lost many of his friends too. But something in him doesn't want you to feel lonely ever again. Something in him wants you to feel what it's like to celebrate the summer festival with someone you love.
The day of the summer festival comes, but all you're doing today is going for a walk around the beach, you didn't usually go to the beach, but that's precisely why you came. Just so you could escape the way your heart aches whenever you go to a place where you used to visit with your sister. So you went to the beach, where you didn't have any memories of your past. Suddenly, you stop in your tracks. A few steps ahead of you, sat the general of Luofu himself. As if he could sense your presence, Jing Yuan turns his attention away from the ocean and to you, smiling as he sees the way your eyes widen in surprise. Still in a daze, you begin to sprint towards him, excited yet confused to see him. You had thought he was busy, why was he here?
Still a bit bewildered, you unknowingly hold his hand, which caused Jing Yuan to blush a bit, but you didn't notice.
"Jing yuan..? What are you doing here?" He chuckles, he could see the hint of happiness from the way your voice sounded slightly more high-pitched.
"Well I just so happened to be on break for two weeks. So I decided to accompany you today in the summer festival." He felt his heart thump faster when he saw how happy you were to see him, still unaware of the stares they were recieving from passerbyers, who were surprised from how happy the Almighty Shogun was. Upon realising how close the two of you were, you both quickly pull away from each other, embarrassed from how your lips were so close to touching his.
After calming down, you both talked about your past experiences and the friends you used to have. Which almost had you tear up.
The two of you silently stared at the ocean, simply enjoying each others company. After all, you both have lost many friends in the past, it's always nice to find a new friend that you can spend the rest of your immortal life with. That was when Jing Yuan suddenly grabbed your hand,
"come on, the fireworks lightshow will begin soon. I heard it's best to see them at Amakane Island, mind showing me the way?" You gently smile, as he pulls you up, and the two of you make your way to Amakane Island. On the way, you point out certain stands that you recommend, just like how he had done when you first came to the Luofu.
The two of you arrive at Amakane Island, of course, many people were staring. The last person they expected to watch the fireworks show was the Raiden Shogun. But at this point, the both of you could not care less. You were only here to have a good time after all.
After looking around for a good spot to see the fireworks, you finally settled on a spot where you could fully see the fireworks, it was also far away from any people, so the two of you could have the space to yourselves. The fireworks erupted in the sky, though this wasn't your first firework show, this was the first in a long time that made your heart warm instead of it aching. While you were mesmerized by the light show, Jing Yuan broke the silence
"you know, you really make my chest feel so warm." He begins, but this sentence alone made you blush, which didn't go unnoticed by Jing Yuan
"I'm really grateful to have someone like you to be by my side. But I know that, one day, we might never get to see each other again" You began to wonder what he was trying to say, you were a bit nervous that he was going to leave you, forever. Which made you worried, but your worries quickly vanished when his eyes met yours.
"would you like to become my girlfriend?" It took a while for you to truly process what those words meant, did he actually mean it? Should you accept it? After all, you two would have a long-distanced relationship, so wouldn't it be better to just stay friends? You slowly lower your head, but, you couldn't bare to stay friends with him, because you also returned his feelings. If you had declined, then it would feel like you were lying to yourself. I mean, you can handle a long-distanced relationship, right?
"don't feel too pressured to agree. I don't want to force you to be in a relationship you don't lik-"
"No." You say, cutting off Jing Yuan, you lifted your head back up to meet his eyes once again, his eyes looked shocked, he didn't expect you to cut him off like that. You lightly smiled, just to reassure him, this causes his eyes to soften at the sight of your beautiful smile.
"I'd like to be your... Partner." You say, embarrassed to say the word "girlfriend". Jing Yuan found your embarrassment amusing, causing a chuckle to escape his mouth. He grabs your hand and bows down to kiss the back of your hand. A firework explodes in the sky, just as he mutters a sentence into your hand,
"then let's spend the rest of our immortal lives together."
Bonus
Jing Yuan: the ship just landed back in the Luofu, hope to see you again soon ^^
Y/n: I would like that too, any festivals coming up?
Jing Yuan: there are no festivals coming up... but it's okay, you can just visit when I'm on break.
Y/n: alright then, will you message me when you're done working?
Jing Yuan: of course. Well, I'll see you later, my love.
Y/n:
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Jing Yuan: ...
Y/n: that's how you use them, right?
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