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#not sure what degree of panicked to be
nicxxx5 · 1 year
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i’ve been going back and forth on this for a while and the more i think about it...the more doubtful i become about me being straight lmao
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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✎ sweet felicity
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- gojo satoru x reader
what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok
note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.
He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.
But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.
“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”
He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.
Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.
His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."
"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"
"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"
"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"
This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.
"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru."
"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"
He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”
"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."
If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."
Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...
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Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?
His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.
He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.
And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.
“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”
In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?
He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.
He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—
“Ooh, there he is!”
“Already?!”
“Nevermind—”
—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”
Today is December 7.
It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—
“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—
You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.
You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.
“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.
Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.
“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.
“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.
“As expected,” Megumi snorted.
“Salmon! Salmon!”
“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”
“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”
Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?
Nah, he would deal with him later.
Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.
You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.
And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:
Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.
If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.
“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”
A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.
The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.
Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.
“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”
The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.
And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.
Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.
You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.
Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.
That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.
And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.
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Epilogue
“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”
Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.
You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”
“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”
You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”
“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”
“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.
You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.
“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”
So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?
Your whole heart, of course.
And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.
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pickingupmymercedes · 16 days
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She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton
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Pure fluff.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +1k
a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.
The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday. 
The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.
She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.
But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.
As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.
She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.
“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal
“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.
“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.
It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.
The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.
It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.
His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.
You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.
Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.
To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.
You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.
As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.
“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.  
“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.
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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 7 months
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Yandere! Cowboy x New in town! Teacher! gn! Reader
Save a horse, RIDE A WHAT?!
Okay i'm not that knowledgeable about the Ranch life, I only got this prompt from a *ehem* cowboy Ghost (from COD) prompt...
Yandere cowboy name: Knoxx Wyatt
TW: Implied sexual encounter, yandere shenanigans.
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The Wyatt family.
They were THE ranchers of the town they live in.
You need cattle? They got them. Dairy? Sure. They even own a winery for goodness sake.
They also protect the town from outsiders and rogues.
But the most impressive part of their ranch is their horses. Their horses are award winning, with the most impressive breeds out there with such powerful legs for jumping, and the shiniest coasts to boast.
So it was clear that their horses are very important to them. So important in fact that every child born into the family gets their own horse once they turn 5.
When Knoxx got born, Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt was immediately smitten with their son. He's a miracle child after all. His mother, suffering from PCOS, considers Knoxx as a miracle child.
So naturally, he was spoiled rotten.
By the time he got to 5 years old, he was given one of the most powerful horse breeds in the world, a Belgian Draught.
The town was shook at first. A Belgian Draught? Even if the Wyatt family is known for their horses, a Belgian Draught is still a very prestigious horse breed none of their family members had handled.
Yet Knoxx proved everyone wrong by wrangling the horse even such a young age.
The horse, named Red, grew alongside the prodigy, Knoxx.
It was almost like Knoxx can talk with the animals with how he can tell what the cattle and the horses need by just a few huffs, belts, and trots. He's also a smart boy, absorbing information and relaying it effectively to the point he immediately got the senior rancher position by the age of 10.
Knoxx was mostly passive, only focuses on the ranch and the school. He's a gentleman, nice, polite, plus the fact that he's handsome, he's a heartthrob in the sleepy town he lives in.
Naturally, by the time he graduated with a double degree of Biology and Agriculture, he's the ideal bachelor of almost everyone.
And yet, he's not settling yet.
He felt like he just can't.
Because nobody can look past his polite smiles. No one can see his bored eyes, his arrogant sneer, his small, annoyed scoffs.
"Do they think they can measure up to me? THE Knoxx Wyatt? Dream fuckin' on."
In reality, he's an arrogant, entitled cowboy who thinks that everyone is below him.
Even going as far as letting his bloodlust win sometimes, silently and quietly killing the people who dared to be stupid around his precious cattle and horses.
Sometimes. It would be suspicious if it happened frequently, right?
He has a reputation to protect, after all.
So with this, all he could do is put the brim of his cowboy hat low, and take care of his ranch, and his ole' Red who's still alive and kicking.
But that arrogance will crumble once he met you.
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"Fuck! Red! Where are you, boy?!"
"Red! Come on boy! This is not funny!"
Knoxx ran around the town, his boots clinking as his loud steps disturbed the peaceful town.
Knoxx was panicking. Red, his old horse, is missing. One of the hired ranchers forgot to lock the gate before he left the ranch.
Let's just say that rancher was sure to remember next time, his head almost being lobbed off with a rake that Knoxx may or may not have thrown.
As he got closer and closer to the raging rivers, his heart pounded. All he could see is the hoof marks that's definitely Red's making it's way to the river. He felt lightheaded, almost like he's about to puke from the stress and anxiety.
He may be a... Murderer, but he still has his moments, alright?
He got to the riverbank and his heart lodged to his throat when he saw a person pulling Red to the edge with all their might, their formal clothes wet. A telltale sign they pulled Red all the way from the middle of the river to the edge.
The person, not noticing Knoxx, continued to pull Red with the lead attached to the horse. Their legs were shaking, but they pulled with all their might until Red finally got to the edge.
"Darlin!" Knoxx yelled, running towards to Red and holding the old horse's head to his forehead. "You gave me a scare, boy!"
Knoxx turned towards the person and his cold heart slowly melted as they wrung their outfit from the water.
"Excuse me, your name, sweetheart?"
The person's head shot up, their eyes wide, tired, yet full of vigor. Maybe it was from the adrenaline, but Knoxx swore it was sparkles.
Or was it his eyes sparkling?
"I'm y/n."
"Y/n..." The way your name rolled on his tongue felt so good.
"Well, sweetheart. Thank you for saving my horse here. I'm sorry. You got your cute outfit wet too." You blushed, laughing it off.
"It's okay. I saw an animal in need and I immediately dove without thinking." You reasoned, shaking off the water. "Although, i'm probably late to my class."
Knoxx's heart sank. Are you not of age? A student?
"School? Are you new to this town? I've never seen ya around."
"Oh yes! I'm the new teacher. Well, I don't think i'll give the best first impressions with this outfit." You laughed sheepishly.
A teacher? His mind went haywire. You're an academic, it's quite a turn on.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You got wet because of me."
Hmm? Why does that sound--
Knoxx bit his lip and rubbed his thighs together at the sudden heat running inside of him. God.
"Oh don't worry. It's okay. I gotta go though, although I don't know how to explain the situation." You smiled softly, grabbing your bag that was discarded to the side. "I'll go then."
Knoxx was upset. He wanted to spend time with you more.
Then there's also the scratching feeling in his chest and throat that roared at the thought of you going out of his sight.
He gulped, and took his hat off and placed it on your head. Sweat riddling his face.
'Please don't know what this means please don't know what this means please don't know what this means...'
Knoxx almost buckled over when you looked at him with curious and ignorant eyes.
"Your hat? Why did you give me your hat?" You asked, feeling up his cowboy hat. It felt high quality and nice. Yet it felt foreboding. You don't know why.
"Don't worry your pretty little head over it." Knoxx said, smirking lazily. "Just wear that. They'll know what that meant."
You tilted your head and Knoxx gulped once more, shaking his head. And ignoring the prominent hardness between his legs.
"You must be cold. Come on, let me give you a ride to the school. I'll explain the situation to them." Knoxx held your waist, his body so close to you that you can smell his musk of pine, dirt, and wine.
And as he gave you a ride to the school, you swore that the townspeople's eyes were glued to you, and the hat on top of you.
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"Knoxx! How's the new teacher? Are they settling well here?" The mayor of the town asked, eating his snacks.
Knoxx nodded and sighed. It was already a month, and it felt like a fever dream for him.
A beautiful fever dream he won't let go off.
"They're doing fine. The students love 'em." Knoxx said, chuckling and settling back on his chair.
They were in a saloon right now, drinking and eating the afternoon away. Knoxx just finished his daily patrol so he decided to settle inside the saloon when the mayor sat down with him to eat.
"Well, i'm glad to hear that." The mayor cleared his throat before his eyes widened to the door.
Knoxx followed his eyes and his gaze softened, yet also became predatory as he saw you walk inside.
"School's done, sweetheart?" Knoxx asked loudly, making you jump and clear your throat. A blush on your cheeks.
"Yes. Just finished. I'm just gonna go get a drink before heading home." You said, adjusting the collar of your outfit before going to the bar hastily.
Knoxx chuckled lazily, his bitemarks from last night's love making was visible from here, despite your attempts to hide it.
Yet his eyes went to the mayor's, who is looking at you with a hint of desire in his gaze.
Knoxx gripped his whiskey glass and spun the barrel of his revolver slowly, letting it click softly to the right position.
It seems that his sweetheart is a magnet for bandits ready to snatch them up.
But that's okay.
This cowboy will not let anybody steal you from him.
Save a horse,
Ride a cowboy.
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whispereons · 4 months
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Oracle!Reader 1k Special
Masterlist - Part 1 of Main Series
Warning! This is imposter SAGAU yandere Genshin so expect blood and gore in this chapter.
Sunlight streams down as the birds caw and the faint smell of dew bothers your nose. Keeping your eyes closed you try to ignore it as you curl deeper into your spot. The blades of grass- 
…Grass?
Your eyes snap open as you sit up frantically. Towering trees and scattered rocks greet your panicked eyes as you stand up quickly. How the hell did you get here?!
A headache begins to form as memories of the night before come to mind. You vaguely recall exiting Genshin Impact after healing at the Anemo Statue of the Seven and walking in Wolvedom. The title screen came up before the doors of Celestia opened and… 
That’s it, nothing else could be recalled beyond that.
Looking around you take a step back for a wider view of the area when something is felt below you. Removing your foot and bending down you pick up the slightly trampled bag and examine it.
Nothing seemed wrong with it so there wasn’t any harm in taking it right? It was basically spotless if you ignore the dirty footprint so maybe it came with you? God you had no fucking clue.
With a sigh you sling it on and examine your surroundings a little closer. Something large and blue caught your eyes and you move a little closer to be sure of what you see.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the familiar structure, something you were sure wouldn’t exist on Earth. Emitting a soft blue and hovering in the air was a teleport waypoint. 
This must be a dream, a lucid one considering how aware you are. To dream about Genshin out of all the media you’ve consumed is amazing luck. It doesn’t take much thought for you to remember where in Mondstadt this waypoint is.
Lush green grass with sparse shrubs and fallen trees farther away reminds you of the west side. There’s a faint cry of hilichurls even farther to your right is only a little bit worrisome.
There was the weapon domain near there that you recall being the biggest bullshit in history. At least until Dendro was officially released. But either way it basically confirmed that you were near Wolvendom.
And that was pretty close to Dawn Winery where you could travel the short easy path to Mondstadt City. Traveling across Wolvendom would be no problem since it was just a dream.
Turning your heel, you began your trek to the Anemo statue. 
Was there a chance that you could run into a wolf? Yeah but as long as you don't get close to Andrius, wasn't that a weird thought, you should be fine.
The lack of pain in your bruised foot and perfectly intact knuckles didn't even cross your mind. The idea of exploring this dream while you could filled your mind like a pleasant haze.
Finches hopped on ledges before flying off as you climbed up. It's not that high due to Mondstadt's easy terrain, it would be much harder if you dreamt of Liyue. Sumeru would have been your personal hell. But it's easy enough to hop down to the darker area of woods. 
Trunks lay on the ground with deep scratch marks clear. The high stone slopes that you dared not climb had similar marks to a larger degree. 
That was the telltale sign of Andrius lair being nearby. With a cautious glance to the right where the claw marks led, you continued going straight. A beckoning blue beam shined in that direction affirming your choice. 
Bushes decorated your path with berries, a rich purple color that caught your eye. Halting for a moment you crouch before it and reach out.
A rubbery small berry was rolled between your fingers as you carefully avoided the spikes. The Wolfhook berry that you farmed often in this area was a small joy you had at seeing it in your eyes. 
Without much thought you began to pick multiple Wolfhooks from the bush and drop them into your bag. You stood back up after picking the bush clean and continued walking.
Since going straight to the Archon statue didn't have a path you had to climb through the bushes. Leaves batted your face and you were sure a few were stuck in your hair too.
Not to mention the grass and dirt stains you had gained throughout the hike. Even still, you couldn't stop the beaming smile on your face. 
Reality was good and all but you would welcome any form of escapism that you could. To dream of Genshin and becoming a ‘protagonist’ of sorts is the most common form of it.
Well you weren't hoping to defeat dragons, fight hordes of enemies or be the nonverbal emotional support hero for every nation to lug their problems on. That would be no better than reality.
In the midst of your thoughts you mindlessly popped the first Wolfhook berry you picked into your mouth. 
Thinking back to the Archon quests you aren't the type of person to just accept bullshit easily. Like the way Ayaka just plainly guilt tripped and played on the travelers sense of justice was just- sweet?
The taste of sweet fruitiness is followed by a bitter aftertaste. In confusion you stop chewing and lick your lips. Hesitantly you swallow the berry and the sensation of something very real sliding down your throat has you taking a sharp breath.
It's real. Everything was real. The leftover bitter juice of the berry clinging to your teeth. Rough bark of the tree that you're leaning on in a whirlwind of emotions. 
Even the wolves glaring at you just a couple of feet away are real!
.
.
.
Fuck
Tensing up at the sight of those predators you subtly pat your body. Other than the bag you had no means of defense. Running wasn't an option either, that would simply goad them into chasing you.
Taking a deep breath you keep your body on high alert and eyes on the pack. Visibly there are six but who knows how many are hiding in the shadows?
It would be best to assess how hostile the wolves in front of you are before worrying about any unconfirmed danger. With that thought in mind you stare at the largest wolf that hasn't let its eyes stray from you.
No barring of teeth or pulled back ears. Good starting signs but those could change instantly. It didn't seem happy with your intrusion judging by its restless behavior and thumping of its tail.
The smaller wolves, probably females, didn't seem on guard either. That was the best sign as it meant no pups were around. You would be totally dead if that were the case.
With the chance of being mauled to death lower than you initially thought, you began to take small steps backwards. Whether you were heading in the direction of the Anemo statue or not didn't matter that much anymore.
It's ear twitched at your movements but it made no move to get up. Feeling the slightest bit relieved at that, you shuffle backwards a bit faster.
“Ugh! I fucking hate Mondstadt! Stupid useless hills and these god awful pollen make me sick!”
Freezing at the female voice and the wolf standing up in alert, you cringe at the sight of a purple figure stumbling out of the bushes. 
Right between you and the wolf. Maybe you should be happy that if it attacks it'll kill this idiot first.
Before you can bolt away and leave this, probably capable, woman to deal with the mess she stands up sighing in annoyance. 
Dusty green hair, a dark mask, and a recognizable bat-like hood made this situation 10x worse. A Cicin Mage just had to intercept the moment you tried to get away.
…Maybe if you run fast enough the wolves and the Cicin Mage could just keep each other busy.
“Oh, oh my Celestia! This-This isn't a dream right?!” The moment she faces you, she falls to her knees. Hands clasp she looks up at you, the mask she wears can't obscure the smile.
“The fuck?” The words slip out of automatically from the sheer bizarreness of the situation. She doesn't even seem to realize the pack of wolves behind her.
“Almighty Creator, I beg of you to forgive me for my insolent words just now. The foul words I spouted should never have irritated your ears.”
Did she literally not hear you curse just moments ago? Actually fuck that, what's more important is how she referred to you.
“Why are you calling me ‘Almighty Creator’ and would you get off the floor?” There's a pause as her smile falters before she stands up.
Was it cool to have an annoying early game enemy kneeling at your feet? Yeah. 
Did you want any passerby to misunderstand the situation as you being a Harbinger? Hell no.
“As you wish, your grace. But allow me to ask, is this some sort of test? A testimony to my faith in you?”
Clearly you had two options. Either lie and act the part of the Creator. Or deny it and risk the chance of her attacking you.
Things were still too vague for you to make a decision. Time to stall for time and information.
“I'm not here to answer your questions. Whatever I plan to do is up to me alone. So either answer my questions or scram.”
She's quiet and you want to curse the mask she wears. But you still catch the way her lips twitch downwards before she's smiling wide and bright.
“How silly of you, your grace. Playing dumb and tricking me like this is quite cruel. Don't worry I have something to match your type of jokes.”
Warning bells go off in your head as she takes steps closer towards you. Maybe it was the near mocking tone she used, or the belittling words but the malicious smile she wore was the most off-putting.
You needed to leave.
Taking a step back, your heel turns to sprint away but it was futile. Delusions wielding wild unpredictable elements would always overpower the weak and limited bodies of mortal capacity.
Her lamp glows in time with her teleport to your front. Her gloved one's grasp yours as a Cicin is summoned to her hand. 
Trying to yank your hands away only earns a painful jolt of electricity to flow through your hands. Gritting your teeth you resist any shameful urges to show your pain. Using this moment she basically slaps the Cicin into your hands.
Predictably the electro infused bat creature bites your palm forcing you to wretch your body away from the mage.
Holding your now bleeding palm, you bite your lip and cover the wound with your other hand. “Why the fuck did you do that?! I know Cicin Mages aren't the sanest people but for the love of-” Bright scarlett drops roll from your palm and splat onto the grass. 
The air seems to shift as her fingers twitch in place. As if hypnotized by your blood she continues to stare at it staining the grass. “Fuck this…” With that last mumble you turn around more than ready to ditch this situation when electro crackles behind you.
Any lingering hesitance was immediately killed and you bolted away from the area. Maniacal laughter follows you as the electro in the air surrounds you like a fog. She was right on your heel, you could sense it.
“Did you think you were slick? Pretending to be our god when you are nothing more than a human? Not even one with elemental powers, what a pitiful existence~”
She teleports in front of you with a lantern in hand that glows as Cicins are summoned to surround her. It’s more than enough time for your fist to connect with her face. Even if your raw strength wasn’t enough, the momentum you had from running gave you whatever strength was needed.
“Fuck off!” The yell is accompanied by her cry of pain as something inevitably gives away under your fist. She staggers backwards and glares at you angrily with tears escaping her mask.
“You rotten imposter! How could anyone, let alone I of all people believe you to be the Creator?!” The Cicins leave her side to chase after you as she twirls in place. 
Wolvedom’s environment of hulking trunks, shady areas and raised tree roots were cool in-game but in real life it was nothing more than a pain in the ass. The city is where you felt the most comfortable traversing but you did relatively well in dodging most of the terrain.
Didn’t stop the slight jolts of electro hitting you as the electro cicins were hot on your heels. All you could focus on was the steadily closer beam of blue of the Anemo statue. You would be near Dawn Winery where Diluc, who loathed the Fatui, could deal with this damn Cicin Mage.
But let’s be real, you should have known your luck would run out.
And that’s exactly what happened when you failed to vault over a tree root in time. Curling and rolling on the landing you avoided any severe injuries but the Cicins were too close to not take advantage of the opportunity.
Some continued to shoot electro at you from afar while most took to biting and tearing at your body. Limbs against the agile small bats were useless to swat them away with. It only got you more bites to suffer from.
Humming is heard getting clearer and it only serves to panic your already frazzled mind. With limbs becoming tingly and numb from the electricity, your hands grope the grass around you for something, anything-
Cool metal is felt and your fingers wrap around what you can and swing in a large arc. The long metal weapon works just as intended and flings a good chunk of them away. When your arc ends you can see a few bats stuck on the spikey end of the metal club that twitch and bleed. As if on cue, all the Cicins cower before fleeing.
The Cicin Mage skips over with her lantern glowing and crackling, her lips are pulled into a scowl as she yells at the retreating Cicins. “Get back here! The mist grass hasn’t been completely used up yet! How are you all already leaving?!”
Panting, you try to see past the blood in your vision to gauge how close she is to you. Quickly you use your arm to rub the blood off your face and by the time you pull it off, the mage is already beginning to float.
“You REALLY know how to work me up!” Crazed laughter erupts from her as the lantern glows one last time before shattering in her hands. It’s the catalyst for the electro shield to surround her and a strange symbol above her to begin shooting electricity.
Try as you may, your twitching muscles are slow from the Cicins attacks leaving you slow to get off the ground. She’s just about in reach, you can basically see your death about to play out.
In a flash a gray blur pounces on the Cicin Mage, it’s not hard to make out the pointed ears and furry coat. More wolves emerge from the shadows and follow the first wolf’s lead in attacking. The lightning manages to hit quite a few but with the multiple targets present, it switches too fast for any consistent damage.
“What the-?!” The mage yells in a mix of frustration and confusion. She can only try to float away from the horde in the shield. But the shield flickers and you can see the way her body trembles as the wolves surround her, awaiting for that flimsy shield to break.
And when it does, the bloodbath is horrific.
You’ve seen many people die, usually in painful ways. Thanks to your upbringing and line of work of course. But most of it was done with knives and guns, maybe the occasional poison if stealth was necessary. The sight of sharp teeth digging into screaming flesh was a new experience.
Blood stains the maws of the wolves and flies off to splat on your face. It’s still warm and the feeling of it sticking to your skin is nauseating. Her clothes are ripped as well as her limbs. It’s hard not to gag when you realize that they’re eating her.
The smell of iron gets stronger when all the wolves turn to you. Teeth bared showing strings of flesh clinging to their teeth. You can just barely make out shredded green hair, a half eaten arm and soulless eyes seeping out her mangled head.
Shakily you try and stand up, it’s not the best decision with all the pack staring at you but you could care less about that. Between the realization that everything is real, that you aren’t on Earth, and how you seem to resemble the ‘Creator’.
Nothing seems to make sense and you can only focus on escaping.
A teal symbol appears below the pack of wolves before wind shoots up, throwing the wolves into the air. You stare at the familiar symbol and the relief you feel is immense. 
The wolves hit the ground with a whimper before running away. The symbol fades as a figure floats down from far above you. 
Venti, the Anemo Archon disguised as his deceased friend, holds the Skyward Harp bow you equipped on him as he floats to the ground in front of you. Cream and teal green colors make up his signature bard outfit as he smiles at you.
Soft nearly girlish features look down at your bloodstained figure as mirth swirls in his teal eyes. With no danger present, the thrum of your heart slows down letting you smile crookedly at him.
“Thank you for the save. I was really about to die there…” Your words trail off at the Anemo infused arrow pointed at your face. 
“It’s my pleasure imposter.”
This has to be some sick joke. Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence but did you really want to deny it and risk the third being a pattern? Gulping you stare at Venti’s face, the smile he wears is now lined with something… sinister.
“What do you mean by imposter? I haven’t claimed to be anyone.” A giggle leaves him at your words but the arrow in your face is steady.
“You really are clueless huh? No one is just born with the Creator’s face yet you, a stranger that appeared from nowhere, are.” Frowning you try to make sense of his words. If you visibly looked like this ‘Creator’ then what made the Cicin Mage be sure that you aren’t?
“Just like that Fatui brat, I too believed you to be the Creator. But the more you spoke and the way you acted made me suspicious. I’ll give her some credit for thinking to cut you to see the color of your blood.”
The color? You glance down at your palm, it was bleeding red so was that abnormal for the Creator?
“Then again, if you did bleed gold I would have just immediately killed her for daring to harm our God.” The fuck?! You mean you’re about to die for being born with this face and not bleeding liquid gold?!
“What the fuck man, is it really that serious?” You knew those were the wrong words to say as the arrow comes close enough for you to feel the air whipping around it. His smile disappears and the dark glint in his eyes are more than enough for you to shut up.
“That serious? Oh what a pity it is to exist without knowledge of the Creator. Without even touching how they created every particle of energy, every drop of blood in our bodies and the vast gifts they gifted us I could still lecture you on their divinity. But I’ll keep it short and simple that even you can understand. They help poor outlanders who arrived here to find their sibling and even used that opportunity to take care of the nations they come across. Their touch extends from the most important events to the smallest tasks that even normal people wouldn’t bother with. How could we, how could I, not worship them?”
So this was a cult? It was the only viable explanation as to why both a Fatui member and an Archon like Barbatoes could agree on something. And by extension that means you must be the Creator.
The only one that could ‘control’ the outlander is you as the player. It would explain why you look ‘exactly’ like them, why Venti was wielding the bow you specifically put on him and even why you had appeared in this world with the bag.
But why the hell is there a condition about having gold blood attached to it?
“You seem to fully understand why I’m pointing this arrow at you. Then that means we can end this here and now-”
“Look Venti, I never fucking claimed to be the Creator. And isn’t this lecture hypocritical considering that you’re parading around in the body of your dead friend? I was born with this face, what’s your excuse?”
There’s a full stop with your words hanging out in the open. Like the slightest pressure on a tightrope leaving you to wonder whether you’ll stay balanced or fall off into the air. He blinks at you with a mix of emotions you can’t decipher.
A snort leaves him that evolves into a chuckle before turning into full blown laughter. His head is thrown back as the bow slants down, his laughter doesn’t put you at ease. He finally calms down as you wait patiently on the ground.
Running would be useless against the God of Wind.
“I have to admit, you make a very good point. I suppose the term imposter doesn’t suit you anymore. What is your name? If you have one of course.”
Seems your gamble paid off, Venti wasn’t the type to stay fixated on one rule or another. He’s flexible just like one would expect from the God of Freedom. Whether or not you would risk your name being known as the Creator’s is another risk.
“My name is Y/N.” You can’t offer more personal information than that. The only reason you gave up your name is due to his power to hear through the wind. There’s no telling when you could accidently slip up and have Venti hunt you down due to your lie.
“Well Y/N, it’s your lucky day today! I’ll let you live for succeeding in pointing out my ‘hypocrisy’ as you put it. Mind you, it’s definitely not on the same level. My friend is dead and not the Almighty Creator. But then again you didn’t claim to be the Creator either. In fact, I’m more interested to know how you even came to obtain that information while managing to be oblivious to our God’s presence…”
Well it certainly wasn’t your fault that Genshin fucking hid everything about this. But you needed a way to explain how you know so much while being oblivious to the ‘Creator’.
“I’m just a messenger blessed with visions of their journey.” The words are spoken solemnly but Venti seems intrigued either way.
“My sole purpose is to communicate words and feelings that the traveler couldn’t convey.” Venti frowns at that, and you know it’s not the best set up considering you didn’t even know about the creator a few hours ago. But Venti didn’t give up any super useful information to work with either.
“Oh really? That lets see some proof and maybe then I won’t kill you for claiming to be a servant of the Creator’s.”
“I’m well aware that the Creator hasn’t selected every vision holder to be used by them. Captain Eula for instance hasn’t ever been wielded unlike how often Chief Alchemist Albedo has been. That’s not counting the brief moments on special occasions.”
Venti stays silent at that but his eyes haven’t strayed from you. His dark braids and teal blue tips are gently swayed by the wind as he keeps a firm grip on his bow. 
“I recall on more than one occasion how often you would be wielded to group up enemies in combat. Both in the various regions and in the Spiral Abyss in the sea.”
He hums in contemplation at your words. A playful smile graces his face as he leans downwards to ask you. “All this sounds very nice and all but how does this explain your confusion to being mistaken as the creator?”
A pivotal question that decides your fate hangs in the air. There’s no stalling or distractions to help you out. Sheepishly smiling, you stare back at him as a sad tone coats your next words.
“In truth, I’ve never seen the Creator. For a long time I studied those visions as intangible feelings bloomed within me without reason. But one day I was spoken to in the sweetest whisper of how they longed to converse with their people.”
Closing your eyes and clasping your hands, you continued to speak with a wavering voice.
“I offered them myself to be used but I never received an answer. And now I woke up here with no memories of my past outside of the visions. It was only after you spoke about the Creator that I realized my God and your God are one in the same.”
Opening your eyes to smile widely up at the surprised expression on Venti’s face you finished your words.
“I truly am lucky to be blessed with a face so closely resembling the Creator’s. But you shouldn’t mistake me for the Creator. A mere oracle like me pales in comparison to the Creator of All.”
The bow disappears from his hands and he begins to clap. “That would earn you a standing ovation if this was done in front of a crowd!” He laughs but you don’t relax your body, that decision is proven right when his tone lowers dangerously.
“While your story makes sense, I can’t just trust you. Everything can be neatly resolved if I just believe you to be Celestia’s spy and kill you right now.”
An arrow flies past you, grazing your neck before you could even try to move away. 
“I’ll stay true to my word and let you live. Feel free to roam my region and claim to be the oracle. I will not stop you but don’t expect me to let you spread false information either.” Your blood is warm as your bloody palm presses on the burning wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding.
“But if I ever hear or find out about you using those blessed features to mimic or claim to be the creator. I will end you.”
The eyes of Barbetos stare you down as wind whips around his body. You could see that it was Barbatoes watching you instead of Venti.
“I’ll hunt you down across the nations and string up your body for the Genesis Cathedral to see.” With those last lingering words, the wind becomes a barrier as a symbol glows on the ground.
You close your eyes instinctively in response to the harsh wind and open them to the sight of a bloody clearing instead.
A weary sigh leaves you before you collapse backwards onto the grass. The sun that shines above you is your only guiding light now that the beacon of blue spelt out pain instead of hope.
The events that you had just gone through make your head spin. Your fingers slid up your face and carefully traced your bloody features. 
The Cicin Mage’s bloody mask lays on the ground just a few feet away. 
It’s just a temporary measure you tell yourself as you slide the uncomfortable and unfitting mask on. Just until you can find a way to cover your face properly.
------------------------------------
The sight of the Barbatoes statue that glows in your presence is almost nauseating. The blood from that event still sticks to you despite how much you rubbed on it. To your surprise the Statue heals your injuries and leaves you feeling more refreshed than before.
The metal club you hold in your dominant hand seems to weigh less too.
You cast a wary glance towards Dawn Winery before looking at the faint outline of Mondstadt city. There’s no way you could go to Dawn Winery wearing a Fatui mask, Diluc would actually kill you. But could you go to the city wearing this mask in strange bloody clothing either?
Even Springvale seemed like a bad place to travel to in this state.
With a groan you readjust the mask and turn slowly to survey the area. The outline of smoke rising catches your attention. Out of all your options, this was your best bet.
You creeped closer to the smoke's origin and arrived at the edge of a small cliff. Looking down you could see three figures sitting around a campfire. Deciding to lay low for the time being you flatten yourself on the ground with a clear view of the camp.
A purple and black clothed blonde, silver hair poking out of a dark gray hooded figure, and finally a pale haired person that was definitely burning the food. Just those aspects make it clear that you accidentally stumbled on Fischl, Razor and Bennett.
Thoughts of what you went through earlier with Venti come to mind as your finger brushes against the healed skin where Venti left his ‘warning’. 
Patiently you watch the trio as they struggle to eat the burnt food. The sun has already begun to set and you think through different plans on how to obtain a change of appearance from the group. The bushes on the opposite side of the camp shake, catching your attention.
From your vantage point, you can clearly make out some treasure hoarders shuffling closer to the camp. Biting your lip, you debate whether to reveal yourself to warn the trio or not. Teal eyes flash in the back of your mind solidifying your choice in not getting involved.
Instead you watch as Razor suddenly stands up and sniffs the air, his greatsword materialized into his hands. Fischl and Bennett stand up in hurry as they look around. Oz, Fischl’s companion manifested by electro is summoned too.
It was pretty entertaining to watch the hoarders freeze in place at the commotion. Razor stalks around the camp on edge as Fischl commands Oz, he obeys by soaring on the border. Bennett to his credit tries to simply sit back down on the lod, more than well aware of his extreme unluckiness.
Except it breaks beneath him making him fall flat onto the ground and get scratched up from the broken pieces. Most likely worried, Razor and Fischl move closer to Bennett as he stands up laughing sheepishly.
Even from far away you can hear his bright sunny voice ring out. “Don’t worry I’m okay!-” The barrel that he uses to help himself up just so happens to be a pyro slime barrel that explodes at the contact. 
Cringing you watch Bennett fly through the air and land on the hilichurl structures crushing them. The dust settles and the now exposed treasure hoarders look at FIschl and Razor with that signature ‘deer in headlights’ expression. 
The camp goes into chaos to say the least.
The hoarders attack first as Fischl and Razor meet them halfway only using physical attacks. Probably due to the fact that Bennett was on fire and frantically trying to put out the small fire growing around him.
A hoarder slinking in the back of the group raises a vial, the plum colored clothing he wears makes it clear what kind of potion he was about to throw. And just as you were already anticipating, he threw the electro potion in Bennetts direction looking like a direct hit.
A direct hit at the second pyro slime barrel just inches away from Bennett.
The resounding explosion was at least double the previous one as smoke and dust covered the area. You can’t see much as you rub your eyes but there’s a loud thud of something hitting the cooking pot and a follow-up of more smaller scale explosions.
It all calms down as Razor and Fischl cough out the remaining smoke, they’re surprisingly unharmed in the center as Bennett and the hoarders lay passed out. Bennett’s ashy hair is slickened with blood and his mildly charred body catch the duo’s immediate attention.
You can’t help but feel slightly worried at the sight, head trauma was no joke. Perhaps it was your distracted thoughts but you didn’t even realize how close you moved to the edge until ruby red eyes met with yours.
Fischl is shaking Bennett trying to wake him up but you can’t look away from Razor’s red eyes staring into yours. 
“Wolf der kleinen worte! Do thou not grasp our ill-fated companions condition?! Quicken thou sloth paced soles and support our misfortunate companion!”
Razor breaks the staring contest to look at Fischl with a pinched expression. “I-I don't know.”
To his credit he does get closer but immediately stops when Fischl or rather Amy yells in frustration.
“Just help me carry Bennett to Springvale!” Razor rushes to Bennetts side and supports most of Bennetts weight. He seems to have completely forgotten about you thankfully.
“Um Mein Fräulein , I believe we have a-'' Oz begins as he returns to the frantic Fischl's side. She's quick to snap at him too. “Silence Oz! Matters unrelated to the wretched and uncouth incident that our companion is suffering from can be properly dealt with at the hour of dark deception.”
You almost feel bad for the crow if he would just stop giving you those damn pointed looks. Just to push his buttons in return, you bring your hand up to wave at him.
His grumpiness at your actions is visible but useless as he's forced to follow Fischl and Razor who rush toward Springvale.
Meticulously you watch their figures get farther and shrouded by the forage before quickly descending from your hiding spot.
Once you land at the now ruined camp, you reach down to the first treasure hoarder and rip off his mask. Discarding the Cicin mask you place the flimsy cloth mask on with a sigh of relief.
The ill fitting and hard mask of the Cicin was not something you wanted to wear longer than needed. Readjusting the thin mask you frown. It seemed this one wasn't much better…
Taking a good long look around you note how the majority of the headers had masks on. The clothes they're wearing are mostly intact and clean too…
Without a shred of guilt or sympathy you stood in the camp wearing new clothes and a reinforced mask covering most of your lower face. Your bag is full of similar clothing, leftover masks, weapons, a meager amount of mora and vials of elemental energy that would no doubt sell for a good amount of mora.
Luck finally shined down on you when one of the treasure hoarders groaned as he sat up. Your blood-stained metal club's spikes glistened in the rising moonlight as you smiled down at him.
“Hey, let's make this quick. Long story short I'm going to need you to answer my questions with every lingering integrity you have or else this club will bludgeon your head like a pinata!”
Whether he knew what a pinata was or not didn't matter. The fear flickering in his eyes only spurred you to grin wider.
---------------
You left Mondstadts gates with slumped shoulders and drained morale. It's been a few days since you woke up in Mondstadt and today you finally had everything set up to live in a different nation.
The perfect layers of a backstory of being an ex treasure hoarder turned adventurer. An oracle to the acolytes who sensed your divinity. So far only Venti has heard about your outlander status.
You intended to keep it that way.
Venti stayed true to his words and never tried to out you in any way. But you just couldn't feel comfortable enough to live in Mondstadt long term, especially with Ventis increasing clinginess. 
It was a strange development and he wasn't the only one to display those tendencies but you couldn't keep putting yourself under this stress.
At least in a different nation, you might only have to fear accidentally running into an acolyte. But other than that you would be relatively set for life.
Those encouraging thoughts of the future caused you to stroll with a pep in your step. If you kept up this pace, you'll be passing Dawn Winery before noon.
“Ughh, please…” The hoarse voice of a man is is close by but all you can feel is dread. You don't see him, nor do you look for him. You did NOT want to get caught up in someone else's problem. You had enough of your own to worry about.
That plan is thrown out the window when a weak hand grasps your ankle. Looking down your eyes trail over the pale hand to the bleeding body it belongs to. Yanking yourself out of the deathly tight grip you stare warily at the man.
“Please, your grace, I need your help. I need your mercy…” That title made your heart skip a beat as you glared down at the man.
Did he know? How could he when you sewed so many of their shitty masks to make the durable one you wear now?
Red and pink froth bubbles out of his mouth as he coughs pathetically. His whole body is pale and thin, very unlike the first and only set of treasure hoarders you saw when you first transmigrated.
“I beg of you, show me mercy!” Grimacing at his wails you look around to make sure no one is around. When you look back down at him, you can finally see the injuries he wore.
A long gash down his chest, deep and maggot infested to boot. Legs mangled and oozing something that smells like death itself. Then there's his face, if you can even call it that, burned to hell and back.
With no eyelids, you stare back into his glazed ones as he mumbles endlessly. All you can hear him mutter is pleading for mercy and death. 
Seems like he can't actually see you, but would Venti take it the same way? Gritting your teeth you try to move around the dying man when his eyes latch onto your clothes.
“Ha…HAHA!” He laughs hysterically letting his chewed tongue hang out. Repulsed, you stop and glare down at him in confusion.
“Running is useless for us! HAHAHA- THE COLD ALWAYS COMES WITH THE WIND!” Without any warning his laughs become sobs as his hands grope the grass. “They were right! We should have listened to them… Treasure Hoarders like us can't survive in Mondstadt…”
“Ex-treasure hoarder.” You correct automatically more then used to doing so in the city.
Shaking your head with a groan you turn around. Why were you still here with this soon to be corpse?! You had other places to be and better things to do then get caught due to this guy.
Danger. Your body feels an immense sense of danger that has you throwing yourself to the side in an instant. A wave of cold breezes past you at the same time causing frost to grow on the side of your torso.
Seems you were right about Teyvat sending you some sort of signals in these situations. But the way your head hit the ground sent your mind into a haze. 
Teyvat sends another warning but the dizziness hasn't subsided enough for you to even move. It would have been useless anyway as the next elemental attack is too broad for you to dodge. Hydro washes over your body before a lighter Cryo attack mixes in.
Now frozen in place attached to the ground, you can't even see who even attacked you. Hands pry you off the ground and flip you over.
Colors and shapes wooz together until the only thing your sight can process is two things. A cryo vision and hydro vision glow before a bag is thrown over your head effectively blocking your vision.
Panic and fear hit you like a ton of bricks at the realization as you're lifted into the air. Flailing your body as much as you can frozen you angrily yell even with the slurring.
“Put me dwown! Lwet me gwo!”
The kidnappers ignore your screams and curses as they leave the area. Judging by the crack you heard, you're sure the treasure hoarder was already put out of his misery.
--------------------------
You're not sure how long it's been since you've been kidnapped. The cryo that drips off your body has mostly melted away now replaced by rope but you've long lost the energy needed to get away.
After being kidnapped by those two vision holders, Kaeya, Rosaria, Barbara, Mona, Mika so many possibilities since they can just travel(this will be in different font), you were handed off to other people. They must have handed you off at least 4 times and any sense of where the fuck you are has been lost. 
But the sounds of nature and the faint smell of grass have dropped off. Now replaced by the sound of your captors boots hitting stone pavement. A building, an underground one considering the lack of sunlight and faint color of flames that you pass by. 
The bag over your head was annoying but relatively useless if they wanted to keep you completely blind. The only thing you truly lamented is your bound hands. If they were free you could bring up the screen and blindly teleport to the few waypoints you unlocked.
And even if that didn't work, you could just use one of the characters to fight through all the enemies before making your escape-
Your thoughts are cut off by the creaking of a door being swung open. Abruptly you're pushed down into a chair and more ropes are bound tying you to the chair.
When the bag is torn off you're mildly surprised by the completely white room. The only pop of color you could see is the blurry things behind the people in front of you.
Eyes struggling to focus after being cut off for so long you squint at them in front of you. 
“You must be the latest person to join our reform program. How lucky you are!”
Something about that happy go lucky tone made your stomach churn. It was eerily reminiscent of when Venti went on that spiel about the ‘Creator’.
Clarity is regained and you frown suspiciously at the two people in front of you. 
The man on the left stands in pure white clothing with a black suit underneath that barely pokes out. A cassock if you remember correctly. His short blonde hair and facial features are somewhat familiar.
The woman on the right matches his perfect posture with the same outfit. Again her brown hair in that braid laying over her shoulder gives you an even stronger sense of recognition.
But the smiles they wear are identical and eerie in the most utopian way you can imagine. Adding in their earlier words about being part of the ‘reform’ program makes it clear that this is some cultish shit.
“Extremely lucky considering that they get to witness first hand how we, who were once in their position, are going to help them reform first hand!”
…If that wasn't ominous then you didn't know what was.
Simultaneously they speak with wide smiles and eyes gleaming in a way you can't trust.
“Welcome sinner to the Genesis Cathedral.”
Maybe that alone wouldn't be too big of a deal. Escaping from the depths of a cult was hard but you had powers from being the Creator.
It was the gold weapons faintly stained with blood in the background that sent chills down your spine.
Guess who forgot to post it last night? Sorry everyone but I do hope you enjoy this admittedly long special. It was a lot of fun to write! [Guess who had to spend an extra 10 minutes fixing shit when Tumblr forced me to exit without saving it?] My characterization of Venti is quite different then how most of the SAGAU fics have him (that I read). Mostly cause I feel everyone only sees the SAGAU and his God of Freedom is lost in the mix. It's not super bad but it does feel like a shame. I was enjoying making the camp go to hell with Bennett as his unluckiness is a easy plot device lol. But he is one of my fav characters so no surprise there. The next chapter and onwards will be for the main series as again this was just a 'what if' au. Again this was fun and a nice change of pace but at the end of the day- I have a whole document draft detailing the general events (and certain twists) of the main plot. Thank you all for the support, likes, reblogs (yes I read your tags <3), and comments! Taglist is always open for more, it's kinda like growing a conga line if I had to make a comparison lol
Taglist: If your username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! It's going to be in this format from now on since Tumblr has a text limit per paragraph.
@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year
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Sagau but the reader gets reallyangry evry time when someone insults sucrose,venti,nahida and fischil...... so the former sages of academia are now seeing the reader riding on azdaha screaming how they will wrath of the rock, or anyone who badmouths sucrose and fischil feels like reader screaming that they will sufere while zhongli and ei holds them back, but when someone try to insult reader.......reader just gets bored and gose to sleep and acolaytes have wtf face
When Someone Insults Sucrose, Venti, & Nahida... Vs When Someone Insults Reader
Anon, you know for a fact things are about to go down when Reader hears the insults directed at these characters. For all we know—if reader wasn't be held back they probably would actually murder some people.
OH, and this one's going to be VERY LONG, so be prepared! This was also the reason why I had to get rid of Fischl—that and it was also because my motivation decided to die on me—
(Disclaimers: Might be OOC, (perhaps) Mentions of Violence, & Quest Spoilers!)
Sucrose
The moment she gets insulted for how shy and unusual her experiments were, you can literally tell her confidence breaking. You can see it in the way her ears began to droop more and how she starts fumbling with her stuff.
And, you treasure Sucrose A LOT. What are you going to do, sit there on the side lines? NOT do anything?
"Hey, you lot!" You march up to the insulters out of your hiding place. "What do you think you're doing, insulting one of my acolytes?"
This gets the gossipers to shut up immediately. They are shivering as they hear your voice, flaring with anger and hatred to the bone.
"Y-Your Grace! We were just...uhm—just...commenting! Yes, just commenting on, uh—"
"Shut up. This. INSTANT!" Your voice rings out through the street of Mondstadt. Sucrose's eyes were wide as she sees you, the Almighty Creator, stand up for her. "DO THIS AGAIN, AND I WILL SLIT YOUR THROAT OUT, YOU HEAR ME?"
Yeah, the gossipers are getting absolute PSTD from this. They are never recovering from this incident. Sucrose, upon hearing the threat, quickly runs up to you, to hold you back from actually hurting them.
Yes, you were raising your fists. Who wouldn't want to punch them? They were acting ignorant!
"P-please, Your Grace! Let's not get violent!" Sucrose tries to persuade you from not doing anything murderous—she doesn't want to have to report to the Knights of Favonius that the Creator themself has committed first-degree murder on the streets right before her eyes.
You sigh, relenting. You won't do it if Sucrose won't like it, but if anyone asked you, they absolutely deserved losing their vocal cords.
"Fine." You turn back to the gossipers, who were cowering on the table they were at. "You both, get out of here. If this happens again, I will do what I threatened to do. Or worse."
That's what gets the moving. After several panicked confirmations ("Yes, Your Grace!" "Understood, Your Grace!" "This won't happen again, Your Grace!"), they leave.
But if you were the one that got insulted? Sucrose would be so horrified of the audacity of these people! How could they say such things about the Creator?
She would be even more horrified to realize that you were there, hearing it all. So, instead of telling off the gossipers, she runs up to you to make sure you were okay. Your feelings matter more than those idiots!
"Your Grace, are you okay? I'm so sorry for what they're saying! Please know that they're not true!" She would say gently, and Sucrose would be ultimately surprised to see you actually pretty chill about the entire incident.
"Hm? Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?—Oh, are you talking about those people over there?" You point at the gossipers, still insulting and calling you names. "Yeah, they're actually pretty amusing."
Shookth. That's what Sucrose's expression is. Absolute shock. You would expect someone like the Almighty Creator to be enraged or upset by this kind of behavior from your own people, but no, you're just sitting there, at a table near the Good Hunter, listening to some dudes piling up random trash on the table like it's some Live Soap Opera.
"U-uhm, pardon me, Your Grace...but are you not affected by what they're saying?" Sucrose can't help but be puzzled at your reaction. It's not exactly...what people would expect, you know?
"Nope, none. Anyways, I'm feeling up for a mushroom pizza—wanna come join me? It'll be on me~"
Sucrose blushes, her mind going frantic. Pizza, with the CREATOR THEMSELF?! But, if the creator wants her to join, she can't refuse!
"O-of course, Your Grace!"
"Alright then. SARA! YOU MIND IF YOU MAKE US A MUSHROOM PIZZA, PLEASE?" The moment you shout from your table, the gossipers turned pale. They look over at you and Sucrose.
That was the next gossip going on throughout the streets for the next few weeks. And you found that entire episode even more amusing.
Venti
This guy is honestly pretty used to insults, so hearing one of his own people call him names and insulting his skills as a bard, he just ignores them and goes on with his day.
However, today was different. He was inside the tavern when you stormed to the table where the insults were being piled up on.
"Ahem." Just by the sound of your voice, you can see the dudes trembling. You were that much of a scary character when you wanted to be. "What is the meaning of this?"
"A-ah! Your Grace, we were just placing opinions on a certain bard's skill in their music—"
"And how does insulting the bard himself have to do anything with their music taste?" you ask, voice ringing with anger. The bad mouthers were turning pale just by the tone you were using. If emotions could kill, your glare would have them drop dead in a heartbeat. Venti found that a little amusing, honestly.
"U-uhm, Your Grace, we can explain!" one of them quickly exclaims, trying to save their own skins. You glare down at them, not even budging in expression or movement.
"Perhaps I should call StormTerror and have your discarded bodies thrown into the ocean." Ayo, hold up! Venti nearly sweats his pants off. The Creator calling in his dear friend, Dvalin, just to kill like, 3 people that were badmouthing him?
As much as he wanted to see his buddy again, he does not like the situation as to why he was even here in Mondstadt again. And besides, these three were still children of Mondstadt! It's better if he steps in and saves them all.
"Yahoo! Your Grace!~ Come join me with for a lovely glass of wine!" He uses his cheekiness to get your attention, knowing the favoritism he'll get over the trio in their little corner.
You sigh. You were so close of letting loose your rage on these idiots, but alas, having fun with Venti outweighed dealing with smack talkers.
So, despite your urge to continue to scream bloody murder from the skies above, you joined Venti at his usual spot in front of the bartender. Venti can only smile as he manages to defuse the situation without making a bigger scene.
"So, Your Grace~ Care to hear this bard's next ballad dedicated to the Almighty Creator themself?" Purely distracts you before you can think more about the frustrating topic.
But when Venti hears someone smack talking about the Creator? Oh, it's really about to go down. Someone was really asking for a death wish. He can suddenly sympathize how much anger you could've felt when you heard other talking crap about him.
Until he sees you, chilling in the corner, listening in on the crap and looking like you would fall asleep at any given time. Venti was puzzled—has the Creator heard insults such as these before? He had to know.
So, disregarding the stupid and semi-drunk idiots, he runs up to you. The moment you see him, you were suddenly very much awake.
"Your Grace! I apologize for what those morons are saying—please, allow this humble bard to deal with them—" You wave him off, telling him to not bother. You tell him that it was actually pretty amusing, and sometimes really good background noise to help you sleep.
Now this dude is even more confused. How could insults be good background noise? How could the Creator themself be using that as a source to doze off to dreamland? It didn't make sense, but he suppose it'll be better for himself if he just left the question alone, never to be answered.
"Well, anyways, I'm up for a walk—you wanna come with?" Venti grins at the request. Spending time with the Creator? Of course he would join! He can brag about it all to the old block head in Liyue and the grumpy royal in Inazuma.
"Ehe, lead the way, Your Grace!" He says it loud enough to have the gossipers freeze and look over. They watch as you both leave the tavern to go on a walk.
Mission accomplished! Venti can live with that kind of revenge on the plate. It served them right to be scared.
Nahida
Okay, to make it more convenient for myself, let's have this take place before the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was erased from Irmunsil. The traveler has managed to save Nahida from the sanctuary of Surasthana, and now we're basically at the part where Cyno meets Azar face to face.
You, quite literally, begged Cyno to let you join him—you were sick and tired of that old man that proclaimed himself to be he Grand Sage anyways.
Even without all the begging, Cyno would've let you follow him anyways. If Azar didn't think that the Dendro Archon could ever lay judgement on him, then let the Almighty Creator reign justice on him themself.
The moment you step into the sanctuary, however, you felt your blood boil. You remember playing through this darn quest and listened to all the crap this son of a dirt bag threw at the wholesome bean that is the Dendro Archon.
You knew what would happen, since you played through the entire quest. For some reason, Teyvat hasn't gone through this change, but you knew. In the end, Nahida was too merciful to the sages. And, let's be honest, who wouldn't want to throw a darn punch at this guy?
You let Cyno do most of the talking with Azar, enjoying how he was looking uneasy as you silently glared at him from the shadows. You can tell Nahida saw you, her eyes wide with awe and shock.
The moment Cyno slams down his polearm, you took it as your cue to come out of your hiding spot.
"And if you think you're leaving this place unharmed, you better think twice! I will claw off that smug face of yours if you think you would get away insulting that precious child!" You point at Nahida to make your statement very clear of who said-child was, in case Azar was stupid enough to think it was someone else.
The moment the (ex)Grand Sage saw you, you can see the literal fear dawning his very figure and eyes. Cyno had to hold you back with an arm on your shoulder because you were looking wayy too murderous than he thought you would be.
"Your Grace, please calm down!" As much as she hates what the sages and the Fatui did to the people of Sumeru, she didn't exactly want Azar dead.
Nahida is smart enough to speculate that if she interfered, maybe Cyno would be able to do his job for both she and the Almighty Creator before things escalate too quickly by Their Grace's divine hand.
As much as she loves you standing up to her, she really doesn't want things to get too bloody than it needs to be.
You glare at Azar one more time. Fine, if you can't have this son of a crap dead as a corpse, you would take some satisfaction in driving fear into him.
"You do this again, little old man, and I'll make sure you actually lose all that self-pride you have and oh-so cherish. Got it?" Even with confirmation, you wouldn't let this guy off the hook. You were that enraged with him.
But at least Nahida was out of her cage, so that's all that mattered.
"Don't worry, Your Grace! I won't let others do this again to me, I promise!" She reassures you that she will not have anyone trample all over her again, and you just couldn't help yourself but smile gently down at her. You know very well she wouldn't.
Alright, post-sumeru archon quest, Nahida is pretty much free to roam wherever she wants. She's pretty happy, until she hears a group of people huddling together talking bad about the Almighty Creator...
At first, she was surprised. Then she got upset and a little angry. Why would her people speak so ill of the Creator?
She literally nearly breaks when she sees you chilling at a different table at Puspa Cafe. She ran up to you, surprisingly, undetected by almost everyone she ran past.
You notice Nahida approaching, and welcome her with a warm smile and a wave, but dies away when she sees the sadness on her face.
"Your Grace! Please forgive my people for talking such false things about you!" She would exclaim, her eyes close to watering tears. While she doesn't like what she hears about you, she doesn't want her people hurt for such things they say.
"Oh—that's what you were concerned about?" you said, dumbly. You look over at the table that were still gossiping about you. "Nah, don't worry, Nahida—they're actually pretty funny."
That immediately gets Nahida spiraling down in confusion. Huh? How could such hurtful things be funny? Was the Almighty Creator very used to this kind of thing, or was it simply because they truly did find it amusing somehow?
"I'm sorry, Your Grace...but I don't really get what you mean." You shrug it off, telling her that's just how you roll. Besides, this was like a free, live time drama show! They were that amusing.
"Say, since we're sitting here in Puspa Cafe, how 'bout I treat you to some Padisarah Pudding and Candied Ajilenakh Nuts? It's all on me!" Yeah, you're pretty okay with spoiling Nahida with treats. Besides, cute bean was sad—you wanted to cheer her up!
When she agrees, you shout, "BOSS! MIND IF YOU GET ME TWO PADISARAH PUDDINGS AND A PLATE OF AJILENAKH NUTS?" And, much like what happened with Sucrose and the pizza, the gossipers freeze, turn pale, and look over.
They become even paler when they see the Dendro Archon herself sitting with the Almighty Creator, casually talking about random things.
"Your Grace, did you really fall from the sky as a shooting star to our world?" You and Nahida would continue talking about your origins and how you brought Teyvat to life from the storybook version, not knowing that the bad mouthers were having a existential crisis at their table.
AND THAT'S IT! I'M SORRY FISCHL, BUT I AM VERY TIRED—
I hope you guys enjoyed it though! See you around! :)
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Ghost Rebel Side Note: This was WAYY longer than I thought it would be, holy cow- but at least it turned out okay? :') Boy, I am so tired lol- this took far too much energy than I thought it would. My motivation legit started plummeting when I got to Nahida—You can legit tell I had to reuse the cafe/restaurant scene from Sucrose into hers because my brain just died on me- But I do hope you guys still liked it! Especially you, Anon! I hope it was up to your standards :)
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equallyshaw · 2 months
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call your mom | q. hughes. ↠ based off the song by noah kahan! ↠ best friend duo! sunny is her nickname! ↠ warnings: talks of anxiety, depression and an attempt. (not shown) also, some grammatical errors ! ↠ word count: 2k
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quinn knew it all, and had known about it since their first frat party they attended when she ended up drunk which resulted in an anxiety attack; during their freshman year at michigan. yet, he never let that get in the way of their budding friendship and hadn't let it over the past almost 7 years of knowing one another. the longest friendship, she'd had outside her other best friend sadie. he would pick up at every 3 am call she'd make to him, he would call her when the ghosting she did began or would figure out where she was when he'd come home during the summer & she wouldn't come to the lake house while not letting him know. or most importantly he wanted to say everything he felt too, when all the times he would catch her telling her true feelings for him, but then she would make a sarcastic and dark-humored joke about it, before changing the subject.
she was his best friend, throughout all of his shit too. she'd go above and beyond for him, and quinn felt less than at times about it. how much compensation she'd do for him when she was hurting and in need of a hug or a pep talk. when she needed warmth and safety. so when she proposed staying in detroit after four years at michigan, for a business degree, he jumped at the prospect. selfishly, at least a little part for quinn, was that he'd know that she was safe at all times- albeit his brothers, their shared groups of friends from michigan, or his parents. to which she'd made a joke of it, "how do its feel to be behind mama hughes on my emergency contact list?"
Oh, you're spiralin' again The moment right before it ends, you're most afraid of But, don't you cancel any plans 'Cause I won't let you get the chance to never make them
it was a rainy, torrential downpour, july friday evening in the detroit - ann arbor area. it was around 9 pm when she'd just gotten out work due to a project that blew up in her and her colleague's faces- so the five of them were stuck there until it was done. she knew that this was her breaking point, and it seemed like once a quarter she'd simply lose it. start ghosting everybody she loved, canceling plans or not even bothering to show up to them without a word. so now here she was, sitting in her townhouse garage and sobbing. she'd been denying each and every call that quinn had been making, the duration of the drive home. she'd promised to call him after she got out to discuss her flight in the morning, to toronto where he was with his brothers and a few friends and girlfriends. she couldn't pull herself to bring herself inside after shutting her car off. she couldn't pull herself together to shower, to eat or to even finish packing for her flight. she couldn't even pull herself to wipe her cheeks that were molten red and drenched with salty tears.
all the way in toronto, quinn was panicking. freaking out outside of the restaurant they were all at. why wasn't she picking up? his mind ran with soulless ideas and thoughts, one's that made him think the worst and on the verge of throwing up. after the 20th call (i know) he called his mom, who said she hadn't heard from her since the previous sunday when they went to brunch, despite her telling his mom that she'd text her something that week. and then once ellen had said that it had been pouring the whole day and hadn't let up, his anxiety surged. what if she slid into a ditch? what if she skidded into another car? lost her vision through the windshield? a million thoughts echoed throughout his mind, as he tried to calm himself down. "if you cannot get ahold of her before 12, i will go over there to make sure she is ok." ellen offered, and that made quinn breathe a bit. that was the first thing he thought of when she said she'd be staying in detroit, that his mom would be nearby at all times. as selfishly as that was, quinn thought.
Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom
she pushed her garage door open into the mud room, sliding her purse and shoes off. she slowly made her way towards the kitchen, grabbing the water canister from the fridge and pouring herself a tall glass. her phone continued to buzz with messages from quinn, and now luke and jack, who were overly concerned for the one person they saw as an older sister. she peered down at it, and saw a text from quinn stating: please text, call, anything please. im gonna drive home tonight - rn. she sighed, pulling her phone into her hands and typing, "don't." and quinn pressed his head down on the restaurant table, he had just sat back down at. she pressed the button to call him and he picked up on the second ring, "don't do that quinn, im fine." she lied through gritted teeth. he shook his head, heading back outside. "sunny...please." he begged, as his voice broke. a thick crack with emotion bubbling underneath. "i promise, im ok." she lied again, and now her body was betraying her. "sunny?" he asked softly, and then he heard her sobs. "sunny?" he questioned again, as her sobs got heavier. "im sorry. im sorry quinine.....god, i wish-" she paused as she realized what she was gonna say, something she'd wanted to say for years when he'd be there to comfort her. "i wish i'd never met you quinnie, you have never deserved any of this and do not deserve it." she sobbed, breaking quinn's heart in the process. "no! you don't get to say that, or believe that. because i sure as hell don't." he argued and she shook her head. "no, you don't deserve a friend that doesn't see the good in the world. who doesn't look towards tomorrow with a mindset of, that things are gonna be better. tomorrow's a new day. you don't deserve that, your family, my family- nobody deserves it." she croaked, wiping her tears roughly off of her cheeks.
quinn's heart broke, "i promise sunny- this time its gonna be different. we will get you better help, ill take you wherever we need to go to get you the help you need. were not giving up, ok? im not nor ever going to give up. you're my best friend sunny, we will work through this. there's so much good about you and the way you treat everybody around you. everything is gonna be ok sunny, ok?" he pleaded, and she heard her sniffles. "i promise that everything will be made new, sunny. let me - let me drive home right now, ill call your mom- ill call my mom, everything will be ok!" he said more so to trick himself into thinking it, but he was terrified. she shook her head, "no its quinnie, im just gonna go to sleep." she said before hanging up.
Waiting room, no place to stand His greatest fears and wringing hands and the loudest silence If you could see yourself like this If you could see yourself like this, you'd have never tried it
as quinn was just getting his bags together from the hotel room, and waiting on the delivery of a rental car - he got the call from his mom. he was with his brothers when he got it. he called her after sunny had hung up, asking her to go be with her until he could get there. about 2 hours later because of flooding and how bad the vision was that evening, ellen had made it to her townhouse right outside of detroit. and the moment she got off the phone with 911, she called quinn. whose world was rightfully, broken in half.
_
quinn stood in the waiting room after driving back with his brothers, and so the three of them stood there silently. ellen was the only one with sunny at that moment, now - 6 am. ellen had been with sunny since 1 am, that morning after her and jim drove to check on her. jack called sunny's mom, who lived in Indianapolis with her step father, who instantly got in the car and drove up to detroit. who were nearing their arrival any minute. all three of the boy's minds ran wild with thoughts and feelings, but quinns. his were lethal at this point, and filled with guilt, more than anything. quinn's head whipped up when he saw jim walking from the elevator and nodded towards quinn, and then his two other sons. "come with me." jim said before he took them with him upstairs. she'd been taken to the psych floor after she had arrived.
"she is ok quinn." jim said placing a hand on his shoulder to try to comfort him. quinn nodded softly, the look on his face of somebody who was mentally gone. jim and the three boys, stepped out and towards her room. ellen turned her head when the door opened, "your dad and i are gonna head downstairs to wait for her parents, we will be downstairs." ellen said standing up and quinn nodded, "we'll go with you." jack said referring to him and luke, who nodded as well. "let us know if you need anything q." ellen said comfortingly and he nodded, still looking towards sunny. the family walked out, leaving quinn who sat down next to the girl. she was sleeping peacefully and soundly, not flinching or stirring the dark haired girl after he grabbed her hands softly. his hands eclipsed hers, as he did so. he brought their hands to his lips, as he sat forward with his elbows on knees. "fucking a sunny." he mumbled to himself, "i thought i'd lost you for good this time." he added as silent tears poured out thinking about the last time, this almost happened.
_
Stayed on the line with you the entire night 'Til you told me that you had to go
_
"i dont want to do it anymore quinnie." she sobbed. her final semester of senior year was getting to her, and she was stressed beyond the max with work, her internship and life in general. and what made it harder, was that quinn was in vancouver while she was in ann arbor.
"what can i do for you, sunny? please tell me what i can do."
"you can't do anything q, there's nothing stopping me or in my way anymore." she cried.
quinn shook his head, "dont say that. you know that isn't true. you've got your mom, sister, brother, sadie, my family and, and me. and you're whole future ahead of you." he said through a scratchy voice.
"sunny, please stay on the line with me until you fall asleep. i don't care how late it is." he said - no pleaded.
"i gotta go quinnie. ill call you tomorrow morning." she said before hanging up, before heading over to the hughes' residence.
Oh, dear, don't be discouraged I've been exactly where you are
sure, quinn could not totally relate to sunny. but he had had his moments. when his first season ended, the off season between the 2022-2023 season and 2023-2024. where the team had been god awful. he'd had moments of unclarity, throughout their friendship. but certainly, never on the level of her's. but there were moments where the two could bond on a different level, and where the two could feel exactly how the other felt.
he'd come out on the other side every single time, and did not let it discourage him. he knew it was a part of life, and the career that he chose. he hoped at some point, before it was too late, that she'd come out on top on the other side.
that she'd finally be able to get some peace in life.
she woke up around 7:30 am, with her parents in the hallway with ellen and jim, talking quietly over everything. quinn sat next to her, while his brothers went to go get coffee and small breakfast items for everybody. when the girl awoke, she did not expect to be there in the hospital. she didn't expect to see quinn beside her, looking past her out the window. she didn't expect to be alive, to be quite honest. she shifted a little bit as tears formed in her eyes, as she felt guilt wash over her. and a bit of frustration, that it hadn't worked.
"sunny.." quinn began trailing off, as he felt her hand pull from his and saw her shift in the bed. she looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes he'd ever seen, and then her lips began to quiver. he quickly hopped into the hospital bed, pulling her into him as she began to sob. her throat dry and scratchy as she began to speak, "why?" she begged. "why me?" she added, as quinn kissed her head. "why am i so broken?" she sobbed into the warmth of his chest, as he began to cry with her. "i don't deserve you quinnie, i don't. i never have and never will." she croaked, and he frowned. he pulled back a bit and brought his hands to her cheeks, to make her look at him. he shook his head, "i don't deserve you my sunny." he began, before swallowing. "from the moment i met you, in that god awful english course, you showed me that a person can be relentlessly kind, incredibly unselfish, and even if you don't realize it - you find the good in everything and everyone." he paused, "and now you need to find that goodness in yourself. because it is there." he finished, his brown eyes pouring into hers.
both of their eyes filled with tears, and their bodies full of nerves.
she nodded softly, "and if you couldn't tell through that thick skull of yours- that's my way of telling you i love you." he quickly diffused the situation, "and how much love i have for you." he added quickly. she smiled softly, "i love you too, quinnie. thankyou for pointing out my thick skull." she hummed, before leaning into his left hand.
Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason Don't wanna drive another mile wonderin' if you're breathin' So, won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me?
it was now early august, and between therapy and time away from work- the girl was finally beginning to understand what quinn had meant when the two spoke that early morning at the hospital. he'd been there every day with her since then, making sure she got the appropriate help alongside her mom. he'd made sure he kept her schedule in order, making sure she went to her in-person therapy sessions, made sure that she was eating enough, drinking enough water, and made sure to take her mind off of it all. this was one of their final full weeks together, and quinn wanted to make the most of it.
he drove the two from ann arbor down to new buffalo michigan, on lake michigan about two in a half hours outside of chicago. he rented the two a small beach house on a private beach for the getaway. this morning the girl rose around 5:04 am, right before sunrise. she quickly got out of the shared bed (which wasn't a shared bed in the beginning, but after a night staying up to talk it naturally became one.) and headed out towards the beach that was a foot off of the back deck. she made her way down the beach, after slipping on a one piece and submerged herself quickly into the lukewarm water.
she dunked herself underneath the water, before swimming back to the surface. she hadn't realized that quinn had followed her out, after feeling the bed shift and then a cold spot in her wake. she turned behind her after quinn had snapped a pic, and she smiled. "morning q." she smiled, now swimming on her back. he smiled, sitting down on the deck and putting his legs in the water.
"will I be subject to a pep talk today?" she teased with a grin, as quinn chuckled. he shrugged, "maybe." he mused. "let me guess its gonna include punching somebody, giving myself a reason to do things and possible falling in love? two topics of which haven't been talked about?" she quipped, pulling herself up the deck to sit next to him on it. she leaned her head that was soaked on his shoulder, and he smiled softly resting his on hers.
"why dont you come back to vancouver with me?" he questioned out loudly, a few minutes later. she felt her breathe hitch in her throat, before removing her head from his. "you don't have to say yes right now but...i don't know if i can go without seeing you. i don't think i can handle you ghosting me and shutting the world out. after that night, i don't want to wake up and fear that you arent breathing anymore. but ofcourse, if you won't come with me- ill stay here. ill take some time off, and we can work on things." he offered and she shook her head. "you you cant do that for me." she pleaded and he now shook his head, "id do anything for you sunny, don't you understand that?" he paused to gauge her reaction, "id do everything in my power and simply - my existence for you. you have been such a light in my life despite everything, since the moment you walked into it. and i frankly, am never letting you walk out of it." he said as she began to feel overwhelmed. she'd never thought about how quinn felt about her, through everything. especially through the short term girlfriend he'd had and the talking stages that went nowhere with girls.
"dont say what it is i think you're going to say." she begged, as she began to cry. more so, happy tears. he wiped them quickly, looking into her eyes. "i love you, and have always loved you. even from the sidelines and through my own shit i have loved you from that first damn and god-awful frat party, and from the moment you said hi." he said rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks. she clasped her eyes shut and shook her head, "look at me pretty girl." he whispered and she reopened them. "back in the hospital room, you said it then, why did you try to run it back? why did you try to neutralize it?" she questioned, "because you didn't deserve it in that moment. you deserved better." he answered. she nodded, "i would have said it back quinnie. i would have said it if you hadn't shut up." she said with a small grin. his head cocked to the side just a bit. "i love you quinn, and i have always. i've loved you through everything. your dedication to never giving up on me, has shown me some of the greatest love in life. and in turn, has made me fall so deeply in love with you." she confessed and quinn smiled. he smiled widely before leaning in slowly, but it was too slow for the girl. she connected the two's lips and melted into his body.
she pulled away, "oh and before we move on for the day, id love to come to come to van with you. i miss brock." she teased before he pulled the girl up and towards the lake house.
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and now here we are !!!! i hope you enjoyed, especially if you made it to this point🫶🏻
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 13
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Canonical character death; Vomiting; Sexual themes.
A/N: It hasn’t taken me this long to write a chapter for this since I started it. And once again, I’m disappointed in the quality. I hope it’s received well enough. :/ And try not to maim me over the ending. I’m hoping it will inspire me to be a bit faster with updates. 😅
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It had taken you a while to calm down. Hours later, you were under the sheets and lying with your back toward the door. People came and went, offering food and medication and water. You accepted all with silence, only for the sake of your baby. The little one needed the food and water and you needed the medication to help you keep it down. Carol informed you that she and Lori had ‘taken care of Daryl.’ Had they murdered him? 
The sun had set and cloaked your room in shadow by the time you opened your eyes again. You didn't even remember falling asleep. What had woken you? Hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up. There was a curious light outside the window. It was as if you had been denied the audio from a feature film but suddenly pressed the button to unmute. 
Screams, gunfire, cars, motorcycle. What the hell is happening?! Your fingers brushed the top of your boots when the bedroom door swung open. Lori appeared wild, frightened to a degree you had never witnessed in her before.
“Carl!? Y/N, have you seen Carl?!” 
“No, I’m sorry. Lori, what—” But she was gone. Now the panic was setting in, your chest tightening for the second time that day. Where was Daryl? What was going on? 
“Patricia! Beth! Y/N! We have to go!” Carol’s voice was an unfamiliar tone, the quiet woman infused with a tension and fear in the call of each name. You stepped into your boots and jogged down the stairs just as Patricia and Beth stepped out onto the porch. Carol was reaching for you before you even noticed her. 
“What’s happening?!” You were breathless with worry and confusion.  
“The farm isn’t safe. We have to go!” The woman urged, her hand wrapping around your wrist. Beth was crying, Lori was panicked. The sight that greeted you was overwhelming. Walkers everywhere. The barn burning. Gunshots from cars circling the herd. 
“Carol.” You whimpered. You had no weapon, watching Lori bolt with a bag. “Do we have any guns?” 
“No time to find one! Go!” 
The four of you sprinted off the porch, the herd closing in, forcing you in different directions. You weren’t sure how you ended up so far into the field, running blindly in the dark, the only light coming from the unsteady flames devouring the barn. You didn’t stop running, the dead closing in from all sides. 
You nearly stumbled into the desperate clutches of a woman, teeth snapping at you before she could get a good hold. You pushed her, stumbling backward into the chest of a man, his rotting mouth snapped by your head, nearly taking your ear. You couldn’t help but scream. You’d never make it to the forest. There, you could easily utilize the safety nature provided. However, the amount of dead that blocked your path made it impossible. 
With the fence at your back, the road just beyond it, you glanced over your shoulder. You could hop the structure easily but more dead waited on the other side. Your mind was still scrambling for a resolution when you heard the familiar rumble and crunch of gravel beneath rubber. 
Daryl was there, calling your name. You cleared the fence and ran to him, legs burning and breaths unreliable. 
“C’mon! I ain’t got all day!” He was standing over the front edge of the seat so you could easily mount the bike behind him. Once both of you were seated, you wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face into his back. 
“Go! Go!” Your shout was muffled against the leather vest but he heard you and soon you were moving, the wind carrying the smell of blood and smoke. You burrowed further against him, taking in his scent instead. Leather and pine, his natural musk, a hint of tobacco. You focused on it while he dodged walkers, the snarling growls and moans too close as you felt him slow and start to weave. 
“Not so tight.” His warm hand patted yours and disappeared just as quickly. 
“Daryl.” You whimpered. You pulled your hands back to rest on his sides, lightly curling your fingers into his vest. Any noise aside from the motorcycle began to fade as the wind picked up. You were going faster. Still, you didn’t let go, didn’t look up. You’d barely made it out. If Daryl hadn’t been there—
He was slowing again, to a crawl and eventually, a stop. When he cut the engine and began to move away, you could feel him taking your breath along behind him. You were clumsy bringing your leg over the seat, nearly toppling face first onto the gravel road. 
“Why… Daryl, why are we stopping?! We can’t be here! It’s not safe, Daryl!” You knew you looked like a wild animal, eyes wide and frantic, your hands protectively curled around your middle. “Daryl… Daryl, we—”
“Easy.” How long had he been standing that close? Your gaze focused on him, but you still couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 
Red. 
“Daddy!”
“I love you, Peanut.”
“Hey, we’re good.” His palms were warm against your face, blue eyes swimming with concern. He was trying to bring you out of the darkness you had wandered into, scared and vulnerable. “Gotta breathe, Y/N. C’mon, girl.” You hadn’t realized your own hands were grasping at his shoulders until he was releasing your face to gently pry them off. “Doin’ better. Can’ stay here long but ya can’ ride like this.” He lowered your hands to your lap and placed his palm back against your cheek. 
You ducked your head and swallowed back the bile inching up your throat, realization striking you like a freight train. “Oh god, I left the meds! All of Hershel’s supplies! Daryl, the baby—”
“Ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen ta either’a ya. Ya hear me?” The conviction in those eyes, the determination. He meant it. You hiccupped and nodded, the deep breath you finally willed yourself to take stuttering. “Are ya hurt? Bit?” You shook your head with more enthusiasm than necessary. “Need ta getcha somewhere safe, try n’ find the others.”
He was still standing close to you and watched as you wiped your face, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You allowed your arms to fall back toward your lap, your right one hitting his foreman on the way down. His palm was on your belly. You hadn’t noticed he’d placed it there when he had moved your hands. Bringing attention to it was likely to embarrass or upset him. A repeat of the events from earlier was not something you could handle. 
“What if we’re the only ones?” You asked when his hand moved to run through his hair. He jutted his chin forward, wordlessly requesting you move so he could again straddle the bike. There was no hesitation, he stood with his boots on the ground to let you seat yourself behind him. 
“We ain’t.” 
“But if we are?” 
He didn’t look at you, but was still for a moment. You watched his fingers flex around the handlebars. 
“Then s’jus’ the three’a us.”
You were careful to not squeeze too tightly this time when you wrapped your arms around his stomach. 
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You gave a weak smile to Carl as you climbed off the bike. To your absolute shock, after the embrace with his mother and father, he hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“Hey, kid. Glad you’re okay.” You plucked his hat off, ruffled his hair, and sat the giant thing back down. He beamed up at you and then continued on his journey of relieved greetings. You spotted Daryl watching you and shrugged. Sometimes you thought Carl didn’t even realize you were around. There were few words spoken between you and the kid, even though you did talk quite a bit with Lori. 
You’d slept so much the day before but you found yourself exhausted, feeling slightly nauseous. You’d told Daryl about the medication. Had he mentioned it during the discussion of where to go next? Leaning against the bike, you watched him rationalize with the others on a plan.  
He seemed calmer around everyone, not so eager to gain distance. He glanced back at you now and again, looking away when he realized you were still watching him. You couldn’t seem to find it within you to be embarrassed. Maybe you could blame exhaustion or pregnancy. 
“Y/N?”
“Huh?” You stood up straight only to find everyone looking at you now. Did Daryl just smirk at you? “Sorry, what’s going on?”
“We just wanted to get your opinion.” Carol smiled, small and tired, but knowing. Everyone probably saw you gawking at your baby daddy. 
“Whatever Daryl says is fine by me.” The implications of your statement were lost on you until the second the last syllable crossed over your lips. Even the archer had the decency to look surprised. Now you were embarrassed. An oil stain on the pavement became ever so interesting when you needed to look away. Your gaze remained there for the rest of the conversation. 
Daryl offered to find Andrea but was quickly shot down by Rick, saving you the trouble. Once T-Dog suggested east, Daryl agreed that main roads should be avoided. He walked by you to grab the crossbow from the back of the bike and quickly took down a walker before strapping the weapon back in place. 
“Watch out.” The hunter carefully nudged you aside and climbed onto the bike. 
“Want me to ride with some of them?” You pulled your flannel tighter and hugged yourself against the chill. You were definitely not dressed for the weather. 
“Nah, yer with me.” He replied from around his thumbnail. He was eyeing your attire, knowing for certain you weren’t dressed for how cold the nights would get. You knew it too. He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you or the baby. That meant finding medication and clothing. “Don’ care wha’ we’re doin’ or where we are, if we’re both there, yer with me ‘less I say otherwise. Understood?”
“Okay.” You acquiesced with a nod and climbed on, grateful for the natural heat of the archer’s body. You would have sighed if it wouldn’t just raise other questions. When the bike began moving, you continued to keep your hold loose but buried your face again, not only shielding your skin from the cold air but also effectively hiding the small smile you wore. 
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Daryl pulled the bike off at Rick’s signal, asking if he was out of gas. Your hold on him remained until he patted your interlocked fingers and waved for you to climb off. You tried to keep your teeth from chattering while everyone talked— argued, really —about staying or going. 
Rick had killed Shane. The deputy hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details but your lack of interest regarding the man’s death told you exactly where you stood. You were never a fan.
“Look, I don’ care who goes today or tomorrow, but m’ goin’ ‘cause Y/N needs tha’ medicine.” 
“I can go with you.” You offered, following Daryl toward the selected camp area. When he stopped, you nearly collided with his back. He turned without looking at you, not at first. When he did, his expression was stern. The hand he brought up to grasp your chin was quite the opposite. 
“‘Member wha’ I said? Yer with me ‘less I say otherwise.” You nodded. “This one’s otherwise. Need ya ta stay here tomorrow. Yer gonna be sick by then, I reckon. Distracted. Need ya safe.”
You kept your gaze locked with his. “Okay.” You conceded easily, almost smiling at the naked relief in his eyes. “Would…would you get me a jacket? Maybe some… some maternity clothes?”
The archer scrunched his nose, releasing his hold on you. “Tell Maggie ‘bout the clothes. I’ll find ya the meds and a jacket.” He turned away, but you called his name before he could make it far. You weren’t sure he’d accept the contact after yesterday’s fiasco, but you placed your arms around his neck, your face tucked against his shoulder. 
“Thank you.” He hummed and nodded in response, quick to end the embrace and disappear past the treeline. He was likely gathering firewood. He wouldn’t be hunting. He was too adamant about you staying with him to go far. 
The archer was shaken by the events of the previous night, whether or not he cared to admit it. Maybe not the walkers or the loss of the farm; maybe not even the deaths. He was worried for you and his baby. It shone clear in the way he looked at you, the way he wanted to keep you close. The unwanted but familiar insecurities came creeping in, compounding on top of your already unsettled stomach. Was he just looking out for the baby?
“Maggie?” Your voice came out quiet and unsteady but you still managed to snag her attention. “Daryl said you’re going tomorrow?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” She stepped away from Glenn with a lingering touch on his arm, making sure he knew she was still there. “Don’t worry. I know what medications you need and we’ll find them. We’ll find something.”
You nodded without meeting her eyes. “Thank you but he told me to ask you about clothes. These,” you pulled at your t-shirt beneath the flannel, “won’t be warm enough. And I’ll get…bigger.” You made an awkward gesture around your abdomen with both hands. 
“You’re glowing, you know.” The look on your face must have been reason enough for her to giggle and place a hand on your bicep, squeezing ever so gently. “Pregnancy suits you. Don’t worry. I’ll find you some clothes. Shoes too, cause your feet are gonna swell. You’ll thank me later.”
“My feet?” You squeaked, looking down at your boots. “Thumper, be nice to mommy’s feet. I need those.”
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You weren’t feeling well at all by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon. The night air was cold, even with your proximity to the fire Daryl continued to feed. Your stomach was a rolling mess of knots. You managed some water but even that threatened to make a reappearance. 
Daryl hadn’t hunted. He wouldn’t leave you behind, especially when you started feeling unwell. The group had not been happy, offering to sit with you and to not let you out of their sight. It wasn’t good enough for him. He knew anything he managed to bring back would be of no benefit to you. 
When you tried to send him off, he pinned you with the same look he’d given you at the farm before he had turned away and yelled for you to leave. You raised your hands in defeat and walked away.  
Now, a few hours later, you were glad he hadn’t left. Even with all the people around you, there was a suffocating tension around that campsite. Had you been left under their guard, you likely would have ended up in the middle of the venomous arguments and snarky jabs. You just didn’t have the energy. 
You were a silent spectator during Daryl’s conversation with Carol, his defense of Rick. The man in question came around the wall that sheltered the group, tense words once again shared. You couldn’t take part, couldn’t even begin to grasp what was being shared, crawling to a spot at the perimeter to empty the liquid contents of your stomach. The heaving was painful and left you gasping and spitting with a hand clutching the shirt over your belly, as if protecting the life inside you from your own body’s revolt. 
“Y’alrigh’?” Daryl drawled from somewhere beside you. You nodded slowly, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. The added stress seemed to have taken its toll. You somehow made it upright to your knees, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. One look at the archer’s face made it evident that he wasn’t buying it. “Le’s getcha settled fer the night.” It wasn’t a question in need of answering. It wasn’t even a suggestion. 
“I’m not sure I can walk that far.” The longing for the warmth of the fire was substantial but not enough for you to even try to send the signals for your legs to cooperate. 
“Didn’ ask ya to.” Had you felt a little more human, you might have wallowed in the indignation of him gathering you up to relieve you of the bothersome, albeit short, walk to the fireside. You were deposited slightly closer than when you’d taken a seat on your own. The warmth was intense and welcome but still not enough to battle the cold that had taken root within your bones. 
“Thanks.” You muttered through a deep sigh. The group was now sitting in relative silence, all but Carl still awake. Your own eyes were heavy within moments. You chose to submit to it and laid over on your side. The ground was freezing but what could you do? It hardly mattered anyway, as your eyes closed and you drifted off almost immediately. 
You awoke with a deep breath that morphed into a yawn. It appeared everyone was asleep with the exception of Glenn and Maggie up on the wall. It was pleasantly warm, just the slightest bit of cold seeping in here and there. Maybe you could just coax your mind back into slumber. Stretching a leg to seek out a more comfortable position, you realized something was keeping you from moving. 
“Be still, woman. Jesus.” 
You froze, briefly holding your breath. Daryl was lying beside you with his back pressed against yours, acting as your own personal space heater. There was a part of you— a rather large part that you’d like to punch in the throat —that wanted to roll over and curl into the man. He was warm. You already knew he ran hot, you’d been pressed against him in more pleasurable ways than this. 
Violently beating down the urge to spoon with the archer, you cleared your throat, knowing your voice would be rough from sleep and vomiting. “Thank you.”
“Ain’t nothin’. You were cold, saw ya shiverin’.” He shifted slightly. “Gotta take watch soon. Ya gon’ be alrigh’?” 
You nodded with a quiet mhm already missing his warmth though he had yet to move. You would be fine, of course. Nauseous with a headache the size of Montana but not dying. That qualified as ‘alright’, right? 
You let your eyes close, too exhausted to sleep any longer but the feeling of warmth and safety was enough for you to at least relax. All too soon, the cold air struck against your back, coaxing a quiet whine from your throat. Rolling to your back, your bottom lip jutted out into the most exaggerated pout you could possibly achieve. 
Daryl looked down as he strapped his crossbow onto his back. He snorted. Mission accomplished. 
Almost. 
“Can I go with you?” You sat up, scratching your lower belly. Damn, it had itched lately. Maybe you should ask for some lotion too. You could see the exact moment when automatic refusal died on his lips, his eyes flitting down to where your fingers grazed lightly over your abdomen. 
“Well, c’mon then.” Daryl needlessly adjusted the strap of the weapon, running his thumb over his bottom lip while he waited. The beaming smile you gave him spread across your face before you even gave it permission. You didn’t even ask before grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He huffed but you caught the one corner of his mouth lifting before he looked away. 
“Lead the way, my good man.” You waved your arm forward and stepped aside so you could fall in behind him. He was shaking his head with a huff of air through his nose that really could have been a laugh. 
“Yer good man, huh?”
You stumbled within the first three steps, his words catching you off guard. His large hand easily caught your upper arm, keeping you on your feet. You scowled in the face of his smirk. “I never liked you.” You jested with a light punch to his shoulder. 
Smirk still in place, he nodded toward your belly. “Ya liked me well ‘nough at one point.” You had no comeback, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. He gently squeezed your arm before letting go, walking away like he hadn’t just taken the upper hand and used it to drop the mic. 
Face scrunched, you fought back a smile before the battle was no longer necessary. Your eyes traveled from his shoulders, down his back, lingering on his ass before continuing the journey to his boots and back up again. Images of your first few encounters slammed into the forefront of your mind. You gasped quietly, the memories so vivid that you could almost feel him deep inside of you. Remembering how he grunted and panted, his large hands exploring every inch of you. 
“Gon’ check the perimeter. You two good fer now?” Daryl called up to the couple on the wall, snapping you out of your reverie. You paused behind him while the exchange took place, rubbing your thighs together to at least try and stifle the throbbing ache in your core. 
What the fuck,Y/N?! Get a grip! You followed on autopilot when he set off again, your mind racing. You were suddenly hot, nearly sweating; your mouth went dry. That damned throb at the apex of your thighs just would not relent. How could you go from sick and sleepy to depraved and horny? Oh, yeah. Pregnancy. 
“Stop lollygaggin’ n’ keep up.” Daryl snapped, thankfully not looking back at you. You could feel your skin heating, knew he’d find it flushed. A sense of shame attempted to overwhelm your sudden desire. You were ogling the archer like a piece of meat dangled over a lions’ den. “Wha’re ya starin’ at?” He asked absentmindedly, removing his crossbow to carry it at his side. 
“Nothing.” You replied a little too quickly, your voice low and breathy. That got his attention. He came to an abrupt halt and turned to eye you suspiciously. 
“Ya okay?”
You took a step back in tandem with his step forward, nodding vigorously even as your chest heaved. His head was tilted, eyes narrowed, looking as if he was solving a particularly complicated mathematical equation. 
“Ya sure?”
“Mhm!” Too enthusiastic, not very convincing. “I think,” you were nearly fucking panting as your back pressed against an inconveniently placed tree, “I’ll just head back.” You rolled against the bark to face the trail toward camp and your chest promptly collided with his arm when he blocked your exit. 
“Nuh-uh.” Daryl ducked his head, trying to catch your eye. “Wha’s wrong with ya?” You didn’t answer; couldn’t really, what with trying to calm the lust flowing through your veins like molten lava. The taste of blood filled your mouth, the sting of your teeth piercing your lip was a welcome distraction. “Y/N.”
‘Stop talking.’ You wanted to say. ‘Stop looking at me.’ Where was this coming from? You had appreciated his handsome features and physical attributes plenty of times without the burning need to feel him pounding into you. Your eyes snapped toward him when the same hand that had met the tree to block you came to rest against your forehead. 
“Yer warm. Fever?”
“No.” Your voice trembled even more so than your body. You pushed his hand away as gently as you could manage, trying again to walk away. “I need to go back.” Fingers wrapped around your wrist. 
“Nah, not alone. I’ll ta—”
Your mouth was on his so fast that he staggered back. You heard his crossbow hit the ground, felt his muscles tense. He didn’t react for a moment that seemed to last forever but when he did, it wasn’t what you were hoping for, what your body was craving. You whined heatedly, attempting to pull him back to you by tugging his vest. 
“Th’fuck, woman?” Daryl didn’t sound angry. Far from it. He sounded confused. And unfortunately for you, the ache between your legs had chased away any semblance of dignity you might have once had. “Yer sick, exhausted. Wha’ the hell?”
“I need…” You whined, rubbing your thighs together while your hands pulled at his clothes. He wasn’t trying to stop you. He wasn’t doing much of anything actually. Just studying you with that stoic expression while you were about to all but beg him to fuck you senseless. “Daryl, I need…”
“Tell me wha’ ya need.” His tone was soft, like he was genuinely trying to understand.  
“You.” Your eyes were shining, wide and wet. “I don’t know… it just… I was fine and then—”
“S’hormones.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture delicate. You wanted to kiss him and slap him at the same time. 
“Damn you and your book.” You growled. You weren’t really sure what you were expected to do now, what you expected him to do. You were friends. It wasn’t like he’d just acquiesce and fuck you sideways. When he walked away, you thought you might curl up on the ground and cry. Since when did desire become borderline painful?
A deep breath did little to aid you. Maybe you could slink off into a corner at camp and take care of things yourself. It would be awkward and you could get cau—
“C’mere.” 
You blinked at him while still trying to get your breaths under control. His crossbow was leaning against a different tree now. He was standing in front of it, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip again. You approached hesitantly, hands wringing the front of your shirt. 
“Daryl?”
Once you were within reach, he grabbed the edge of your flannel and pulled you forward, spinning you just before your body met his. Your back against his chest, you could feel him breathing on your neck, a fresh wave of arousal seeping from your core. You were sure your pajama pants were soaked at this point. 
“Daryl, are you—”
He shushed you against your ear, allowing the lightest brush of his skin over yours. “See that?” He wrapped one strong arm around you with his palm resting on your belly, the other hand lifting to point low to the ground behind where you had previously stood. “Perimeter line. Cans n’ shit ta make noise.” His stubbled cheek rubbed against your neck. “One behind us too. Anythin’ or anyone comes through, we’ll hear ‘em.”
“Okay?” You shivered when you heard him inhale against your hair, taking in your scent. You nearly came from the thought of him enjoying the way you smelled. Then again, even with your sensitive senses, you found his scent calming. 
The hand over your stomach pressed just the slightest bit harder while his other hand slid up your side to cover your breast. The ache when he squeezed brought a moan out of you so quickly that he flinched behind you before chuckling. No longer wearing a bra until you could one that fit, he could feel your nipple harden, immediately shifting his hand so he could pinch the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. 
“Ya sure s’me ya want takin’ care’a this fer ya?” On the surface, he seemed ready and confident, already having knowledge of your body. His voice though, it was the most fragile, tiniest uncertainty filtering through. 
“Please.” You whined, feeling the evidence of his desire now pressing against your ass. 
“Say it then.” Daryl nipped at your pulse and soothed the skin with his lips and tongue. “Tell me ya wan’ me.” 
You wanted him to keep talking, whispering against your skin in that gravelly rasp that was making your pussy clench and ache. Then again, you wanted him to shut the fuck up and get on with it already before you spontaneously combusted. 
“I want you. I need you, please.” Your body was so alive with need that you’d beg on your hands and knees if he asked. You groaned when he chuckled again, this time right against your ear. It wasn’t very long ago that you were shivering in front of a fire. Now you shivered while your skin burned for a completely different reason. Funny how that worked. 
“S’bout damn time.”
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oneshots-heaven · 1 year
Text
“Sleeping Mates" — Timothée Chalamet
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What are you supposed to do when your best friend answers to your ’Can't sleep' text with a cheeky ’Come sleep with me' but you refuse due to your feelings for him?
WARNING True heartfelt fluff with some spice and angst Timothée Chalamet x Reader
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You were tossing and turning in your bed, the sheets already stripped down to your hips as the city lights flooded your room. Your body felt on fire, and while your limbs felt tired and begged your mind to find some rest, it didn’t. You were wide awake, grasping your pillowcase, quietly groaning into it. 
It had been the third night this week you struggled to fall asleep, and by now you knew you couldn’t blame it on the weather, neither on the city lights. It had thundered on the first night you couldn’t sleep and spent the entire next day blaming it on the weather. The second night, it had been chilly and rained all day, perfect temperature to have a good sleep, but instead you had stayed up almost the entire night. 
You knew it must be another reason for you to be so restless lately, but you couldn’t explain to yourself what it was. There was nothing wrong in your life right now, literally not a single thing you had to worry about. While of course, there were the usual ups and downs life had to offer, you were doing good. 
Turning back onto your back, you sighed as your hands searched for your phone, laying somewhere close by in your bed. Blinking against the bright screen, you checked the time. 
2:38 AM. 
Your tired arms gave in, laying the phone back down as you stared at the ceiling. The street lights brought the tiniest bit of light into the darkness of your room. There was only that, darkness filled with tiredness and admittedly, a bit of loneliness, as you felt like the only person awake around your block. 
Grabbing your phone again, you checked the time once again. Not even a minute had passed, and it would only become more painful if you kept staring at it. Your finger hovered over the touchscreen, having no clue what to do. No solution came to your mind, everything only seemed to make it worse. 
Unconsciously, you opened the messages, seeing the last chat with your best friend. You had sent him a video of his sister and you mocking his last fit, to which he had answered with some angry emojis. It still made you smile as you knew how eager he had become with his fashion looks, he liked making a statement and trying new things.
You stared at the chat, swiping upwards, reading some of your older texts. Timothée and you had been best friends for years now after having met more or less by pure coincidence. It was the easiest friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life, and somehow neither of you had ever questioned it, what you truly were, what you were supposed to be. It was just easy, he could focus on his movie career and you on your degree. Sometimes you didn’t hear from each other for weeks or even months, and yet you still always knew you had a friend for life. It felt like a lifeline. 
One that you felt the need for now. 
To: Timothée
Can’t sleep
This was stupid, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. Knowing him, he was knocked out since 11 PM, peacefully sleeping in his bed two streets down the block. 
Just as you wanted to put your phone away again, it buzzed in your hand. You blinked in surprise, yet frowned as you checked it. 
From: Timothée 
come sleep with me
You slightly sat up in bed, your eyes still fixed on his response, your hand clutched hard around your phone, as if you could lose it any second. Your chest suddenly felt like a panicked void, completely caught off-guard. You blinked and read the text again. For a second you weren’t sure if this wasn’t just a fever dream, however it was very much real, it was right there. 
And yet it still felt surreal, although there was no reason to be surprised like that. Timothée and you were as close as the text hinted, saying stuff like that wasn’t a rarity. From the day you’d met, there had been this unspoken closeness between you two, a space where you could be whatever you wanted to be. It felt so natural that you had never questioned it, not until now. While you had had sleepovers at each other’s places and shared hotel rooms multiple times in the past, it just never was as intimate as inviting someone to purposely sleep besides you. 
This had to be a joke. 
All of the sudden, after whatever much time had passed, your phone buzzed again. 
From: Timothée
are you there or asleep already?
You pressed your lips together, your fingers itching to type an answer. 
To: Timothée
No, I’m here. Still can’t fall asleep.
Seconds later, your phone buzzed once more. 
From: Timothée 
open your door then
Disbelief kept you right where you were, hesitating. He wasn’t at your door, that was ridiculous. Why would he come over in the middle of the night? You tried to fight it, but the what if in your head was much louder. You let go of your phone, pushing the blanket aside before you stumbled through the dark hallways of your apartment. You must look like an absolute mess, but with the force you unlocked your door and pulled it open, it was clear you didn’t care at all. All your heart desired was to see if he was actually there. 
Clothed in a hoodie despite the nightly freezing temperatures outside, Timothée stood in front of your apartment door, his eyes flying up to meet yours. His face softened as he caught sight of you. “Hey,“ he mumbled, still sounding groggy from his previous sleep. 
Overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually here, you glanced at him wordlessly for a brief moment, before replying a soft ’Hey’. 
“Can I come in?“ 
You nodded, unable to form any words with your numbed tongue. It felt like your brain had stopped working, a complete malfunction of basic behavior. You remained standing in the doorway before ever so slowly stepping aside for Timothée to step in. You hadn’t expected this, you hadn’t expected to see him at this hour. 
Timothée walked further in your apartment as you closed the door behind him, starring at his back, right until he turned back around to you. “You okay?“ he questioned, making you feel caught. 
“Yes,“ you breathed. 
Pushing his hands in the pockets of his loose fitted sweatpants, he said, “Just can’t sleep, hm?“ 
Pressing your lips together, you leaned against the kitchen counter, nodding. You felt so out of place. What was this? Why did this feel not like usual, not like any other situation in your friendship and instead so different?
“Have had trouble sleeping for some days now. I don’t know why, I just can’t seem to find any rest.“ 
“Want me to make some tea? Talk you tired?“ he offered. “No offense, but you do look pretty exhausted.“ 
You chuckled quietly. “Well, I am pretty exhausted. But you don’t have to do all that. I just need to finally fall asleep.“ 
“Let’s go to bed, then.“ 
There were a million questions in your head, putting in question all sort of things. Go to bed, together? What will happen then? Will you sleep next to me? But first and foremost, why are you here now? While all of this was highly confusing to you, you didn’t stop yourself from following him to your bedroom. Your bed was the proof of your restless nights. The covers laid crumbled aside, pillows were laying everywhere, but were they fit right. Nothing about your bed looked comfy right now, but rather like a chaotic, stressful mess.
Timothée, without another word, made the space his own, grabbing one of the bigger pillows and fluffed it out before doing the same to the other. Stripping his sweater and throwing it on the ground, he stood on the other side of the bed, looking at you. He was still clothed in his low hanging sweatpants and a t-shirt, yet your cheeks flushed at the sight of him. 
It was the ease with how he did things. Without hesitation, without fear, because that was what your friendship had always been about—safety without any doubt. His smile offered the same comfort that you’d always known, and although the confusion didn’t leave you, you felt a little more relaxed to get into bed, just as he did too. 
This was just like any other sleepover, this didn’t mean anything more than any other time before, or at least that was what you told yourself. Timothée laid next to you, hauling under the same blanket as you, feeling so close yet far away in your queen sized bed.
The city lights brought enough light into your bedroom to see the contours of his face as you took a glimpse at him. Your fingertips tickled in desperate desire to touch his face, to draw your finger along his strong jaw over to his soft lips, but you denied yourself to give into that desire. Your hands stayed where they should be, laying to close to your body on either side. You laid in your own bed like a corpse, paralyzed to move or make yourself more comfortable, because you felt so fearful to get too close to him, and he seemed to notice. 
“Relax,“ he whispered into the dark. 
“I am relaxed,“ you assured him, lying through your gritted teeth. 
He snorted quietly, suddenly you felt his hand shaking your shoulder lightly. “No, don’t lie,“ he said, his voice sounding like a true beg. “You’re tensed as hell, no wonder why you can’t sleep like that. You need to let your body loose, like you’re sleeping in a hammock.“
“In a hammock, you say?“ you laughed. “I don’t think—“ 
“Yes, don’t think. Don’t overthink anything right now, that’s too much brain activity.“ 
At this point, you felt like he was mumbling bullshit, you could hear it in his voice. Before you texted him, he must’ve been asleep or close to sleeping already, he sounded groggy, yet ever so concentrated on making you feel just as sleepy. 
“I cannot not think. That feels impossible.“ you argued, which was the truth, especially now with him next to you in bed at this late hour. It was in the middle of the night, he should’ve been fast asleep and instead he had been suddenly standing in front of your door. You couldn’t concentrate on sleeping when your body was so hyperaware of his. 
“Why?“
The worst possible question because you had no answer to that, or rather you feared the answer to that. 
“I don’t know, I just can’t.“ 
His fingers brushed back and forth over your arm, creasing it, as he said, “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re fine, you can rest.“ 
You gulped, tensing more up if that was even possible. Why would he say such thing? Your mind spun around, and by now you were sure that you were losing yourself in absently overthinking about the meaning of your friendship. Timothée was the greatest friend you’d ever had, there was no argument in that, and you would do anything for this boy, and still you wondered. 
He pushed himself up on his elbows as he noticed how you still couldn’t relax and rather laid rigged up beside him. “Come here,“ he said, ever so quietly, as he opened up his arms for you to move closer. 
For a brief moment, you simply starred at him and the small space between the two of you. In the briefness of it all, Timothée looked like he may regretted his words, yet held his arms wide open. The confusion yelled loudly in your head, trying to draw further attention to itself but you had ignored it, already having pushed yourself over the mattress into his welcoming arms. They came around you, holding you against him. 
His fingers continued to brush over your shoulder down your arm as you snuggled deeper into his arms, face on his chest, and closed your eyes. This felt like peace, and that was all you had longed for in a very, very long time. Yet the question didn’t leave your mind, perhaps bothering you until you would free it from your soul. 
“Why did you come here, Timmy?“ 
The movement of his fingers stopped abruptly, his breathing becoming rigged, as you had definitely caught him slightly off-guard with that question. His chest moved up as he breathed in deeply, your head moving with it. What a dangerous, little question. 
“You texted me in the middle of the night, and I just—“ he mumbled, you could feel his lips brushing your head that was laying in the crook of his shoulder. You hung on every word he said, desperately waiting for him to finish his sentence and as he did, you swore you felt like you’d just died. “I just thought you needed me.“
You breathed out, feeling his hand brushing gently over your head. The darkness was your savior, it did not let Timothée read your thoughts out loud as they were written all over it. As confusing as this was, it warmed your heart that he had made his way blocks over in the middle of the night, just because he thought you needed him. 
And you did. 
All you were lacking for the past few nights was the sense of comfort that perhaps only he could bring back with ease. A gesture like this, God knows a smile from him even, was enough to give you peace, and that realization was scary. When did you put all your source of true comfort into one person? Especially one that was so close, yet never yours? Why did you do that? 
“I did,“ you whispered. “I had hoped you’d answer.“ 
His arms around your body tightened, pulling you even closer to him, if that was even possible. “I’m glad you texted me.“ 
“Why?“ 
You felt his head falling back deeper into the pillow he was laying on. “I was glad to be or even feel like the person you’d call in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.“ 
Take your entire hand and crush my heart in it, it’s yours, that is all it ever was. 
Your thoughts spun with every continuing breath as the airy silence crawled over you two, and in that moment, everything halted in time, or at least that was how it felt like to you. A painfully long moment filled with even more questions, more confusion and longing. For days, your body had craved to finally find some rest and just as you possibly could get it, you wanted to do anything but to fall asleep. Although this may didn’t mean as much as your heart interpreted in his words, you wanted this to last forever.
“Timmy?“ 
He hummed in response, his fingertips running gently up your back, caressing it until you leaned onto your elbow to properly look at him. He loosened his embrace around you, yet refused to fully let you go. His gaze went up, meeting yours, you could barely make it out in the almost pitch-black darkness. 
“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be that person but you.“ 
“Really?“ 
Disbelief resounded in his voice. What a fool he was for not believing you. If he only knew what he did to you—for years. How much you cared, how much you wanted him to care. How much you needed this, and how much you wanted him to need you as well. It tore you apart that he couldn’t see that, and it felt like torture even thinking further about this. Why hadn’t you never act on this? Why had you always denied yourself the truth, especially when it was right in front of your eyes? 
Why even, why still? 
Timothée’s hand rushed forward, catching the strand of hair that was about to fall into your face, slowly brushing it behind your ear as you went against all fears and doubts and leaned forward, connecting your lips together without further hesitation. You felt his body stiffen, his mouth not moving a bit, not even responding. Just as reality came crushing down onto you and you hasted to move away from him, his hand pulled your face closer again as his lips crushed harder onto yours. You gasped into the kiss by the sudden surprise, leaning more on him. 
Blood rushed in your head, making you feel dizzy in his embrace. Your heart stumbled over its own beat as he pulled you even closer, those soft lips brushed over your bottom lip, luring a moan out of your mouth as his tongue slipped in, brushing against yours. 
Was this even real? 
His hands traveled carefully, almost a bit fearful down your waist to your hips while you melted into his touch, longing for it even more now than ever before. You’d always been close, but not once had you crossed this line, it always had felt taboo. You had believed Timothée could never like you in this way, more than just a friend, but the way how he moaned into your mouth as you gently bit his bottom lip proved you otherwise. He may desired you, too, at least a bit. 
Your hands found the collar of his shirt that you grabbed and pulled him on top of you, desperate to feel his weight on you. He chuckled against your mouth, “Stop it, I’m going to crush you.“ 
“Don’t be silly, Tim,“ you breathed, before he placed one hand on each side of your head and leaned down to kiss you once more. 
“I really don’t wanna crush you,“ he whispered in-between each kiss he planted on your lips, “because that would be a terrible way of ever losing you.“ 
Suddenly, the lightness got a little swept away by the serious undertone of his voice. Had he ever feared to lose you? 
“You’ll never lose me if you only keep kissing me like that.“ 
His mouth twitched to a smile that made him look so gentle and wholesome, yet his dark eyes told a different story. They had changed into a deeper hue, longing gazing, eyeing every inch of you in the dark night. Leaning down on his elbow, he used his other hand to brush with his finger along the lines of your jaw, his gaze following the movement, until he reached your lips. As he brushed over your lips, you opened your mouth, letting it dip in, and wrapped your lips around it to suck it. 
His breath hitched in the very moment of it, as he let out an airy laugh. “Don’t do that,“ 
You frowned, insecurity overwhelming you within seconds. “Why not? Sorry—you didn’t like that, did you?“ 
“No,“ he said, “I wanted for you to finally sleep, but if you keep doing stuff like that, I will most definitely try to keep you from sleeping.“ 
Shivers crept up on you, tingling all over your body, as your brain immediately shifted to imagine the reality of his words, and all you were left with was the desperate need to make it happen. Suddenly, every part of your body uncovered its aching for closeness that you had denied yourselves for too long. All those forbidden glances at each other, all those feelings that you couldn’t ignore, all the built up through the years of friendship finally found its purpose, and you would be damned if you let that chance slip. 
Your hand carefully reached forward, brushing aside the brown curls that fell into his face, caressing his cheek, “For once, I don’t wanna sleep.“ 
“Good,“ he breathed, and your lips met in the perfect middle of it all. Your hands grabbed after his face, pulling him closer down to you—him still on his elbows in his ridiculous fear to crush you, as he seemingly forgot that he was rather a lightweight, but you adored his wariness. He’s always been like that, taking care of you, looking out for you, wherever you went. Your mind had been attracted to him, before your body did. 
His lips began to wander to your cheek slowly down your neck, which you recked unconsciously to offer him even more space, marking every inch with a kiss. Just as your hands wandered, too, trailering down his sides to the hem of his shirt. You’d seen him shirtless before, many times, this, however, would be different. You’d pull off his shirt with intention, and he let you. Breaking away from your neck, leaving you whimper for a second, he kneeled in-between your spread legs. You followed his suit, hands still on the hem of his shirt, as he held up his arms, letting you pull it off in one swift movement. Your chest tightened at the sight of him shirtless. There was something that kick off serotonin in your head as soon as you saw him like this. 
“Don’t look at me like that.“ 
You met his eyes. “Like what?“ 
“As if I’ve got anything good to offer you. I don’t—I’m not—“
Your shoulders sunk in, face softening. “I like you just the way you are, Timmy.“ 
Chest heaving, his gaze also softened at your words. His hands found your face again, as he whispered against your lips, “God, you’re too good to be true.“ 
You melted in that kiss, as you never felt closer to him than in this random night that you wished would last forever. Morning shouldn’t come too soon, who knew how long this would actually last, but until then you would believe his words as the truth. 
“Can I take your shirt off, too?“
You nodded, wildly, offering him your arms in the air as he did the same to you, undressing you. You hadn’t worn a bra or anything underneath your oversized shirt, so you were instantly exposed to him, much to his surprise. His adam’s apple hitched visibly, as he took in the sight of you for a moment. “You’re so beautiful,“ he hushed, crushing his lips back onto yours, bringing you down on the bed again. “So damn beautiful.“  
And he proved his words. You felt him all over your body, appreciating it with his mouth and his hands, showered you in kisses and intense waves of shivers. He sucked on the softest parts of your breasts as he lightly flicked the nipple of the other, sending your brain into another dimension. Who would’ve ever thought of this happening? 
As his head hovered over the lower part of your body, hands on your sweatpants, he glanced up, meeting your eyes. “Is this real?“ you questioned. 
Timothée came back up to you. “Yes,“ he replied. “It’s always been real.“
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Please do not come at me for not writing smut in this. I wanted to keep it wholesome. 😭
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fullmoonandstar · 2 months
Text
Common Interests
Gale x gn Tav / Reader
Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3
Rating: T
Word count: 1.3 k
CW: Dyslexia, vague mentions of past trauma
Summary: Your crush is well-read and you want to be close to him by picking up a book. It would be a good strategy if reading wasn't so hard.
Or
Dyslexic gn Tav/Reader wants to impress Gale
A/N: inspired by this post
You were so concentrated on the task at hand that you didn’t notice the footsteps behind. You had found a nice secluded spot a bit away from the camp and settled on a fallen tree to continue your reading as you had done for the past few days.
“What are you doing?”
The question carried a smile, but you jerked, and the book slipped out of your hands. Gale snatched it out of the air, and you grasped at nothing.
“Hmm … an interesting read you have here. I would recommend following up with Sara Ibb’s take on the topic. They give a more balanced view.”
You felt your face burn and prayed to the gods that Gale was too distracted by your choice of book (you had found it in the cellar of an abandoned house) to notice.
He rattled on about the nuances of using weave grass in potions, and you could not help but let the corners of your mouth creep upwards. Gale’s enthusiasm made your insides feel all warm and soft.
“Oh, I totally lost you in the barrage of words. I …” Gale laughed nervously. “How did you like the book?”
“It was good.” you said a bit too quickly.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked at you suddenly intrigued, as if you were a puzzle to be solved.
“Come, my friend, what did you really think?”
You panicked. What would be an acceptable thing to say? Your heart beat faster, and you were stuck between wanting to flee and not being able to so without making a bad impression.
The seconds dragged on, but no words left your mouth. Gale watched your silent struggle for another heartbeat before sitting down next to you and waited.
"It’s hard to read." you said finally. Gale’s brows furrowed and you stammered an explanation. "I can understand it, I can read, but it’s so difficult to read.
"Why?" Gale asked softly. The ball of anxiety and embarrassment was melted away by his warm presence. You had been so caught up in your own head that you had forgotten how save Gale made you feel, like you could tell him everything.
"I’m not sure how to explain it." you paused to think. "It’s like the letters come in and out of focus, like they move around on the page if I don’t give it all my attention."
Gale nodded slowly in the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t look at him. You had never told anyone about this and if you were honest, your school days and the embarrassment that was your inadequate reading skills were still hanging in the back of your mind.
"I hope you don’t think me rude, but why are you reading that if it’s hard for you? I remember you saying you are not big on books."
Now he had hit the target, the big question.
"Which is understandable for someone with your condition."
"My condition?"
"Dyslexia, from the sound of it."
"Is it fatal?"
Gale laughed, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.
"No, and it’s not contagious either." He smiled at you, the sweetest thing you had seen in a while.
"As far as we know, it stems from individual difference in how the brain works and has nothing to do with intelligence or lack thereof. People with it have problems reading or writing, in various degrees of severely. It’s pretty common, but before when reading was a skill not many were allowed to learn, we didn’t notice that about 1 in 10 people has problems with it. You should have seen Val, their writing was atrocious but a very fine wizard indeed." He smiled wistfully. "You have nothing to worry about."
You looked at the book in your hands in a new light. Since your school days, you had struggled, but now at least you had a name for the trouble you had.
"Thank you, Gale."
Your eyes met, and your heart skipped a beat. He looked stunning just sitting next to you, and a warm wave of affection rolled over you. You opened your mouth to say something when Gale leaned over. For a moment, you thought he would kiss you, but he reached out and took the book.
"Do you want me to read it to you? Or maybe something else? I have a collection at my tent." He gave you a bright smile while you still recovered.
Snap out of it, you told yourself, you’re acting like a love sick puppy.
"Choose whatever sounds interesting."
"You want to read to me?" you said when your brain had caught up.
"Yes, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice, and you seek knowledge."
Gale was someone who talked a lot, but you would be lying if you said you did not like that about him. It was his openness that drew you in, in the first place.
He studied your face and added: "That’s very attractive."
A twig snapped behind you and both, you and Gale jumped.
"There you are!" Karlach appeared with a leaf in her hair that was sizzling.
"Food is almost ready, let’s get back before we eat everything without you."
Shadowheart was not a chef cook by any means, but she and Wyll had a good tag team on the hearth. You ate with gusto, and forgot all about your conversation with Gale.
After dinner, he came over and said:
"My offer still stands. If you'd like, you can come over at any time."
"Now?"
"Sure, come." He held out his hand to help you stand up from the log you were sitting on, and you took it.
Gale had not been lying about the collection he had.
"You carry all this in your bag?!"
"Not technically, I have this pocket dimension…"
"Wizard stuff."
He laughed.
"Yes, Wizard stuff."
You found a book that sounded interesting and handed it to him.
"Ah, yes, I could have known this one would pique your interest."
Gale sat down on his bedroll, and you sat next to him.
"Strap in, you will love this. Such a good read."
————————-
When you opened your eyes, you panicked, not knowing where you were and why you felt so warm. This was not your tent, and you lay under a blanked with a warm body pressed to you, an arm holding you in place. The memory of last night came back to you. Gale reading to you, and you were slowly shifting from a sitting position to lying down on his bedroll. At some point, you must have drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the first one since your infection.
Gale stirred, nuzzling your neck sleepily before freezing.
"Oh, I’m sorry." he said and began to pull back, but you caught his hand as it retreated.
"Don’t." You pull his hand back into the position it was, you tight in his arm and his body pressed against your back. "It’s nice. Let’s stay a bit longer."
He said your name, and you looked over your shoulder. His hair was in disarray, but it made him even more endearing, not less.
"Why did you start reading books?"
He had asked the question that you had not answered the day before, and it seemed he already knew the answer.
"There is this person I like, they are really smart, and I wanted to be closer to them. To him."
Gale shifted until you were on your back, facing him. You noticed the little wrinkles the pillow had made on his face but also the fullness of his lips. His eyes studied your face and got caught by your lips.
You reached out and ran your fingers from his temple down the side of his face through his soft beard. Your hand on his chin, you nudged him to lean in, and he followed your request.
Check my Masterlist for more
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bobsyourdylan · 5 months
Text
Okay, so – a few thoughts on Izzy’s death. I’m sure other people have also laid this out, but I haven’t stumbled across it yet, so this is partially for me to get my thoughts organized. For the record, I love Izzy – he fascinated me (in a horrified sort of way) in season 1, and then he grew on me significantly in season 2. What a weird little guy. But also – I’m fine with them killing him off, and also with how they did it, because I think it makes sense for the story. But I know that a lot of people are super upset about his death, and also about the way he died. So, a few semi-coherent thoughts on that: 
Why not a sacrifice play?
This writer’s room is so self-aware, so deliberate about engaging with tropes – there is no possible way that they sat around breaking the story of Izzy’s death and no one said “woah, wouldn’t it be symbolic and gut-wrenching if he sacrificed himself for Ed? Or Stede?” No way. So why didn’t they go that route? 
Izzy’s arc in season 2 has been all about becoming his own man, separate from Ed/Blackbeard. Like – that’s what he’s worked towards, this whole season. That is his growth. It would be insulting to take that away from him at the last minute, and make his death purely about Ed and Stede.
Listen, I love a sacrifice arc as much as the next person. But Izzy’s life isn’t about sacrifice anymore – that’s the whole point of his season 2 arc. He has spent decades sacrificing both himself and Ed to the altar of Blackbeard. No more. 
It also means that Ed and Stede’s mourning doesn’t have to be tinged with the guilt of “he sacrificed himself to save me/my partner.” They can mourn Izzy purely for himself, because he is worth mourning. This, I would argue, is the send-off that Izzy’s character deserves.
Izzy’s death wasn’t accidental on Ricky’s part – it wasn’t a stray bullet.
We see from the scene when the crew is locked up in Spanish Jackie’s that Ricky recognizes Izzy. We know from their conversation that, for Ricky, Izzy is the epitome of piracy – Izzy, not Blackbeard, is the legend.
The thing is – Ed and Stede are both in the scene where Izzy dies (I’m not sure if you can see Stede on screen, but the bts photos show Rhys’ position, on what would be the far right of the shot). Arguably, Stede would have been the easier shot – Ricky wouldn’t have had to complete a full 180-degree turn before he could pull the trigger. So why doesn’t he go for Stede, who abandoned him to the tender mercies of Spanish Jackie in the first place? Or Blackbeard, arguably the greatest/most famous pirate alive, with the possible exception of Zheng, who he’s already targeted? Sure, you could argue that he’d going for Ed here… but I don’t think he is. The shot’s too low to be accidentally aimed for Izzy – it would hit Ed’s knee or something, probably. I think that yes, it’s a panicked shot, not well-aimed at all. But if it’s aimed at anyone, I think it has to be Izzy. And at the very least, the symbolism of it is very much not accidental.
For probably the first time since they created Blackbeard, Izzy isn’t just a stand-in for Ed. His significance is his own in this scene – in all of his interactions with Ricky. He’s not targeted because he’s Blackbeard’s first mate (why go for the first mate when you could go for Blackbeard?). He’s targeted because he’s Izzy Hands – because he is significant, powerful, famous, respected in and of himself.
And more than that – this is an arc about the end of piracy. And Izzy Hands is piracy – the show has been telling us from the beginning that piracy is a mixed bag, full of the good and the bad, and Izzy represents that  – represents both the toxic, violent side of piracy, and the side of piracy that he grows into, that he explains to Ricky – piracy as family, home, belonging. Izzy dies, and it hurts, because not only is he a great character, but he represents in one person all of the complicated, hilarious, heartbreakin, violent, loving aspects of piracy – and of the show. But it is so, so important that Izzy dies as himself – not as a symbol or shield of Ed, or Stede, or Blackbeard. Not even as a symbol of piracy, but instead as the active embodiment of piracy – as something/someone who grows, changes, ends. Not as static or passive, but as better than when we first met him, as transformed as Buttons in his own way. 
Izzy’s death sets up a possible revenge arc:
We know that everything in this show ties back to the main relationship between Ed and Stede. Izzy’s death is, I think, significant on its own, for him as a character – but it is also, by necessity, significant to Ed and Stede’s relationship. Namely – it sets up an interesting conflict for season 3 re: a potential revenge arc for Ed. 
Now, clearly they’ve carefully ended season 2 on a relatively high note in case we don’t get a season 3. But we know they’re gonna be terrible at running an inn, and we know there’s unfinished business with Ricky. Ed’s current strategy of dealing with everything that’s happened seems to be “I don’t want to be a pirate, get me out of here” – which, while fair enough, won’t last, because that’s the nature of unfinished business. So, at some point, Ed and Stede are going to need to confront Ricky again. And, if the writers decide to lean into the revenge arc, I’d say the odds are pretty high that, when Ed lays eyes on Ricky again, we get a flashback to Izzy’s death. 
And this sets us up for a pivotal, and necessary, moment in Ed’s character arc: when confronted with pain, loss, negative emotion in general – can Ed deal with it without losing himself? Ed needs a balance between the Kraken, Blackbeard, and Edward, and we see at the end of season 1 and beginning of season 2 how challenging that balance is for him to find, especially when confronted with loss or pain. We can see Ed working towards that balance when he’s interacting with Low – Low’s taunts don’t push Ed to violence, but instead get to Stede. But comparatively, Izzy’s loss is a much greater blow, and at some point, Ed is going to need to confront that.
Plus – we know the writing team are thinking of Izzy’s death at least partially in terms of the mentor/mentee arc, which often confronts the question of revenge – after the mentor’s death, the mentee is required to choose on their own how to go on, what kind of person they want to be. And this often requires a confrontation with both the mentor’s loss and a decision about how far they want to take their desire for revenge.
Why not a cooler death?
Okay — I get this criticism. I do. Izzy is an amazing fighter, we all love that about him. And you can keep most of the above symbolism and still have him die fighting two dozen British soldiers. 
But — again — we are back to the root of this show: Ed and Stede. 
Izzy has two deaths this season: one in the premiere, one in the finale. The first is Stede’s fantasy. Cool swordfight, and Stede triumphs, obviously — but the premise of the fight is that Izzy’s a great swordsman and Stede bests him because now Stede’s a great pirate. This is Stede’s ideal pirate fantasy. 
But Izzy’s actual death is not like this. It is messy and inelegant and painful and no one gets any glory from it at all and Ed is crying with Izzy dying in his arms, and Stede wants to help, goes for bandages, but he doesn’t know what to do and it’s not enough anyways — And this is not a fantasy anymore. This is piracy, and this is the piracy that Ed wants to escape. And it’s important that Stede sees this, sees what Ed is done with. 
And it’s also important that Stede tries to save Izzy. Izzy isn’t just a symbolic barrier between Stede and Ed anymore, to be sacrificed to Stede’s reunion fantasy. He’s his own person, with his own death, and Izzy has grown, yes, but so has Stede.
And by using Izzy’s death to make this point, we both get Stede learning the reality of piracy and growing beyond his fantasy, and the glorious fantasy fight kiss i love you reunion between Ed and Stede (if Ed and Stede had reunited by fighting off dozens of British soldiers, but Izzy had died doing the same, the dissonance would have messed with both the death and the reunion, because we the audience wouldn’t be able to distinguish between the fantasy and reality worlds). And getting both of these is the premise of the show — fantasy and reality both. 
And sure — you can be mad that the show used Izzy in this way. But that is the show’s premise — everything is in service of the protagonists and their relationship. This is not a surprise— it’s been openly talked about since day 1. 
You don’t have to like what the writers did. You don’t have to agree that it was the correct choice. But they have proven to us, time and time again over the last year, that they are self-aware and careful with this show that they know we love so much. So we absolutely owe it, to them and to ourselves, to ask why they made a choice that not everyone may agree with. What is the payoff? Why did they decide to do this thing that they knew would upset fans? Because we know it’s not that they hate us. So what is it? You don’t have to agree that the payoff is worth it. But do the writers, and the show, and yourself the favor of recognizing that there is a payoff here.
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kitorin · 2 months
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LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN
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THREE - TWO IDIOTS, A GENIUS, AND THEIR COMPANION.
contents. no warnings, smau
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"I already want to go home." Rin mutters under his breath, thigh bouncing under the table as he stares at the first problem.
The combination of letters and numbers are quite grotesque, and the instructions are asking for far too much (how is he supposed to figure about what it was? It's unknown for a reason). Rin scrunches his nose in disgust at the sight, so does Isagi, who runs his hand through his hair while staring at his notebook. Shidou on the other hand was perfectly unbothered (as expected) as he displays discourtesy in the library's private room, resting his feet and legs onto the table (Rin thanks himself for sitting away from him).
"I need help." At least Isagi was willing to reveal his confusion, Rin reminds himself to listen in carefully to the explanation. It's not that math is too hard, but that he hasn't seen anything like this before.
"Save it 'til the end. I'm working on somethin' for a bit." He doesn't look away from his phone, and from the way he picked his nose and watched with half lidded eyes, he obviously wasn't concentrating on anything. "Wait for the others."
"Who? I thought it was just us." Rin diverts his attention away from the question, the mere sight of mathematics was enough to make him nauseous.
"'Was'." Shidou still doesn't look up from the screen. "Isagi over here found people willing to help your dumbass." Rin opens his mouth to defend himself, but Shidou continues before he could do so. "They should be here anytime soon, oh, they just texted. Finding us right now."
The senior's lack of attention and care only frustrated Rin further, he's not quite sure if he hates the word problems or Shidou more.
"Who did you invite?" He wants to trust Isagi enough to find someone reliable, but that was difficult after Yukimiya grouped him with Shidou.
Isagi remains silent, as he rushes over to the door to open it when he hears a knock. "Hiori! Thank you for your time today." He greets him enthusiastically, bowing at an almost 90 degree angle, mannerisms flustering the taller boy.
"There's no need to be so formal—We're happy to help and it'll be good revision for us, especially since it's earlier than we usually study." He ushers Isagi to stand up straight, reminding him that formalities were unnecessary since they were the same age. "You must be Shidou?"
Finally, Shidou puts his phone away. "Yeah, thanks for helpin' us out with this idiot."
Rin interjects. "There's two of us."
"No, there's one of you, and there's Yoi. Yoi's cute. You are not." Shidou doesn't even spare a glance in Rin's direction. "Your brother on the other hand—that man is adorable."
Rin scowls. "Don't even call him that."
"Fine, he's my cutie patootie."
"The fuck does that mean?"
Shidou crosses his arms in attempt to mock Rin. "He's my pookie bear."
"Worst one by far."
As Rin finds himself more disgusted by Shidou's peculiar infatuation with his older brother, Isagi and Hiori didn't pay much attention to their conversation.
"y/n's here." Hiori points at somewhere out the door, down the corridor and Isagi peers outside to check. "They were at the bathroom."
"And why is that fucker here?" Rin regrets speaking, his harsh tone making Hiori flinch. He had no problem with Hiori, but he can't help how the thought of you makes his skin itch with agitation.
Panicking, Isagi inserts himself in the space between Rin and Hiori. "I invited them—They're both really smart and willing to help."
"Rin Rin!" To which, Rin groans. "I had no idea you could read a book, let alone study."
He scowls. "Very funny. As if you haven't heard me answer our teacher."
You shrug, actions and words dripped with sarcasm. "I dunno, if you really were capable you wouldn't be here relyin' on us."
Rin remains silent at that.
"I already like them." Their senior cackles. "Shidou Ryusei, by the way." Hiori briefly introduces himself, and so does he.
Isagi leans over to whisper into Rin's ear. "Feel free to complain and object, if you're willing to pay for a tutor, or okay with not competing." Rin's reply is non existent, and the silence already feels awkward.
"Anyways, though I can't and won't guarantee any results I'll do my best." You announce as Hiori nods along. "Let's all do our best, yeah?"
Isagi grins, full of energy and determination, returning to his worksheet. While Rin was quite the opposite. You and Hiori unpack, laying out everything you'd need for the study session.
Only for you to turn on your phone
Hiori pokes your cheek. "y/n. Do I need to remind you that now's not play games? We're here to study, remember?"
The oldest in the room interferes. "Who cares, one round. I play too." He mimics your action. "I'll make the room."
"See? Shidou-senpai gets me. Surely one round. All together. I can actually play properly since my hands aren't soaked with sweat."
Hiori winces at the unnecessary detail.
Rin interrupts. "You're just going to play games while we study?"
"Oh I'm sorry, when was the last time you got passed a test. Primary? Kindergarten? Pre-school?"
With a scoff, he retaliates. "And when was the last time you grew? Infancy?"
To the best of your ability, you conceal your offense. "I'll have you know I grew an inch in the past year."
"And I'll have you know that I ace English every year." At least foreign languages had practical use for everyone. He doesn't need to fully comprehend and analyse Shonagon Sei's The Pillow Book or be proficient in mathematics to dominate as an athlete. Arguably, fluency in another language was most important.
"Only English?" You critique him in another language; what he'd assume to be Mandarin. "Only two languages?"
Great, now you have another thing to make fun of him for. Maybe he'll finally start learning French.
Hiori hits your shoulder and you yelp (he also snatches your phone while he's at it). "You can't be talking—you only know a few sentences of Mandarin and didn't get any of the tones right just then." Rin holds back a groan for falling for your antics, while resisting a smile from Hiori calling it out.
"I would've sold it if you didn't point that out."
"You're a scammer, not a salesman. Quit being immature and stop trying to compete with the poor guy." Hiori mutters out an apology on your behalf, as he drags you by the hem of your shirt to where Isagi was scratching his head over a problem. "I'm separating you two."
Rin likes Hiori, quite a bit.
Shidou nudges Isagi. "I like this y/n." Well I don't, Rin thinks to himself. "Here's the plan. We'll teach the subjects we're best at. I think you 'nd Hiori are fine with everything though. Straight As, right?" Rin doesn't care about grades, but knowing that you're maintaining a results as an athlete and proficient in academics has his skin prickling with envy.
"Yeah." You reply nonchalantly, peering at the problem Isagi was stuck on. "Not that confident with science though."
Hiori nods. "As long as it's not math, but y/n can cover for that anyways. I started learning English from a young age so I guess that's my best topic."
Shidou claps his hands together. "Perfect."
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"You're actually so fucking stupid."
"I'm sorry I haven't been studying for every day of my life." Rin spat, clenching the mechanical pencil in his hand hard enough to the point he started trembling. "You're here to teach me not to act like a fucking dumbass.
"It's long division." You yell. "It's literally the same as regular long division but with 'x' involved."
"Well I can't do the one with polynomials if I can't do regular long division." It completely slipped his mind once he discovered that high school tests often permitted the use of a calculator.
The poor table suffers an indignant slam from you. "How? I've done this stuff since I could hold a pencil."
"Not everyone's the same as you." Rin wonders, what sort of childhood you had to already comprehend such concepts at a young age (not that he cares, it's simply curiosity). "You don't even need to know how to do long division, you have a calculator."
"Well some shit you just don't forget.'
"You're clearly wrong in that case."
"No you're just stupid."
Amidst the chaos within the tiny room, Rin can barely catch the gentle encouragement from Hiori to Isagi. Why can't you be like that, or at least, why can't Hiori help him instead? Shidou fucked off somewhere a while ago, Rin's relieved that he doesn't have to spend time with him; but that means more time with you.
He leans back into his chair, tossing the pencil onto the table. "Why can't you be like that?" He aggressively points in Hiori's direction. "Mature and intelligent."
Though hesitant, Hiori denies his compliments. "y/n's a lot smarter than me... especially in mathematics."
"Smarter or not, doesn't matter. I hate them."
Now you're slumping onto the table, nuzzling your face into your own bicep. "Love you too, sweetheart."
"Do not call me that—"
You cut him off by slamming your palm on the table. "Food. I want food. A break is well deserved, don't you think?"
Something tells him that it was directed to him, but Rin still responds. "I'm the one who needs a break. All you did was yell and it produced no results."
Your faux pout makes a return, as you make your way to Isagi, hands resting on his shoulders. "Think of everyone else dumbass. We've been locked in a room for hours—"
"You're free to walk out whenever, in fact, please do so. Now."
"You people need my genius—"
"The booking." Hiori interrupts. "The booking is finishing soon. So we're leaving soon either way." Relief makes Isagi pack everything up, stuffing it hastily in his shoulder bag. "And you willingly came here to study, stop hyperbolising everything."
"Hi-o-rin, we're getting food." Ignoring his scolding, you cling onto his arm, carrying the both of your bags while you're at it. "There's a nice place nearby, let's all go together." You sling your arm around Isagi's shoulder, pulling him in. “Surely we go get zaru soba too.”
Isagi falls for your charm—or what Rin would much rather call irritation. “That’d be nice. Where would you recommend, then?”
“y/n and I usually go to this place nearby. It’s a bit of a walk but it’d be worth it. They have other foods too if you’re more of a rice person.” Hiori had positioned himself between you and Rin, after weaving out of your embrace. “We can get ice cream from FamilyMart if we overheat.” He holds the door open for everyone, to which Rin bows politely in gratitude.
“I can’t.” Rin declines, partially because he prefers the quiet atmosphere of his home to eat; the rest of his reasoning is merely your presence.
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What part of “I can’t” did you not understand.
Now he’s seated at a table in a crowded and noisy restaurant, thanks to you dragging him along (he's also confused at how you managed to pull that off). He’d be thankful that he wasn’t seated next to you, but that meant being forced to face you for the entirety of his meal.
There’s you in front of him (by Hiori’s side, of course), pondering a stupid decision while Hiori actually bothers to hear you out.
“Grape Calpis… or regular Calpis.”
“Can you even tell the difference between them?” Hiori’s fingers massage his temples. “Hurry up and give Rin the menu.”
“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re not my mum.”
Isagi interjects. “Which one did you pick?”
You hand the menu to Rin. “Milk tea.”
And with that Isagi returns to glancing over the menu.
“Ochazuke for me. Cold.”
“I’ll get the katsudon.” Isagi asks.
You stand up with a gentle slam of the table (what is it with you and that tendency?). “I’ll go order then. Hiorin, same as usual?” Your being to weave through people after Hiori nods.
“What’s wrong? Thinkin’ about somethin’?”
Isagi chokes on nothing. “No, I mean yes but it’s about y/n—”
Maintaining eye contact, Hiori takes a sip of his water. It doesn’t come off as intimidating, rather curious instead. “Have they been annoying you too?”
“Of course not—that’s just Rin being Rin.” Arms folded against his chest, Rin glares from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything. “I hear a lot of people calling y/n a genius. Why is that?"
“Oh. That. Our club gave them that nickname because one, they're really good at school, and two, they were disgustingly good without knowing anything about fundamentals. And it didn't take long for them to learn it either, they were really awkward when first playing too." Hiori gazes off in the distance, grappling for the right words. "They're just naturally good at a lot of things too."
In other words, you’re one of those freakish beginners with a freakish start and freakish development.
Smart and athletic, you truly embody perfection, if character was ignored. Perhaps you made a deal with god, your sanity and maturity in exchange for skills others spend years refining.
“Good at school and sports. Must be nice.” Isagi sighs. “I still don't understand logarithms...what's your secret?”
Hiori shrugs. “Study. You get it after doing it a lot. Just ask y/n.”
A groan comes from the shorter boy. “Forget it, genius’ don’t have secrets. I’ll practice.”
Rin scoffs. “And how long are you going to stand there, dumbass?”
Hiori whips around to see you grinning. “Go on go on, keep praising me please.” You take your seat again. “Don’t worry Yoichi, just send me anything you need help with.”
Isagi nods, hesistant but determined.
“You’re going to be fine. If I can do it so can you.” You open your bottle of royal milk tea after distributing the other drinks.
“Thanks but we’re not the same…”
You yawn, eyes watering slightly. “I too have failed tests before. They’re recoverable.”
Rin’s heard stuff like this before. “Like what? A 99 instead of an 100?”
“30 instead of a pass.” Hiori covers his mouth to stifle a laugh, even going as far as turning away (it only made Rin feel more embarassed). “I knew I was screwed so I wrote an apology on my test paper. And that is why, you people should trust me when I say you’re going to do great. Eat well. Sleep well. Practice consistently.”
Check, check, almost check. It can’t be too different from learning English.
Hiori slaps you on the back, loudly. “Quit yapping when we both know you already only do the first.”
“And you’re no better—” The volume of your speech is quickly turned down by the waitstaff’s presense. “Thank you for the food.” Effortlessly you switch from your annoying self to a polite customer.
“Rin, Yoichi, don’t think about exams too hard. We don’t even know the dates yet so you’ll catch up fine.”
Rin trusts Hiori’s rationality—and yours too (he’ll never admit it out loud), as his picks up his drink and brings it to the centre of the table midair, against everyone else’s.
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“Excuse me—?” Hiori calls over a staff member. “Can we split the bill please?”
She smiles. “It’s already been taken care of.”
“We paid already?” Isagi’s perplexity was evident. “I don’t remember doing that.”
“And you’re remembering right, dumbass.” Rin was confused as well, but Hiori seemed to understand the situation perfectly. The moment the waitress left he almost pounced on you.
You were unfazed by the attack; effortlessly dodging it and grabbing your bag while doing so. “My treat! Thank you and well done for your hard work today.” Out the restaurant you go, followed by a mad Hiori, attracting a few concerned glances.
“Oi—come back you fucking idiot. Let me pay equally dumbass.”
“Wait for us—” Isagi scurries out of the diner booth, ushering Rin out to chase after them. “Hiori—!”
With a tired sigh, Rin follows.
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Rin pockets his phone, staring out the train's window instead. You're seated in the seat in front of him again, a similar configuration from lunch, but with Hiori by his side instead of Isagi.
You peer at Isagi's screen. "Your team group chat actually looks fun. Can I join it?"
"It's called a team group chat, of course not." Hiori objects on Isagi's behalf. "We have our own, anyways."
"You either leave me on read and Nijiro only responds with emojis. At least Kurona's fun and sends shark pics." Rin begs Isagi to not surrender to your pleas, the majority of that group chat was already irksome enough.
"Maybe stop spamming it with your reactions to a show that's clearly too scary for you to watch at 1 am."
You retort playfully. "It's not spam if it's beautiful, intricate media analysis."
"What part of screaming about shirtless Ahn Hyo Seop says intricate, or analytical?" With the way Hiori snapped, the gentle boy in the library room was nowhere to be seen. You must have a talent for ruining others' composure.
"Appreciation, of art?"
You continue bickering with Hiori, Isagi as a poor viewer. Rin watches too, in a much calmer way while Isagi awkwardly observes your squabble (and thanking the train for being so empty).
Only when you get up to shake Hiori by the shoulders (a stupid resort in a stupid debate about actors and actresses), Rin bends over to reach for your bag, hand reaching for the zip, an ephemeral disappearance into your bag.
When you have enough of quarreling with Hiori, it was as if nothing happened, you plop back into your seat, not noticing a thing; Rin leans into the backrest, going back to gazing out the window.
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TWO | MASTERLIST | FOUR
pairing. itoshi rin x reader
synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives—and emotions together.
contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au
a/n. hardest part is always the fucking title i swear to god
taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @httpshujii, @saesins, @yoimyas, @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz, @certaindreampost, @rroxii, @jar-03, @celestair, @satoruskitchenrag, @kaitfae, @biaonww, @hellothere9597, @its-ur-pillow, @saesofficialwife, @miyanaranagikenmal-intp, @popponn, @kascar-chronicle—bold means i cannot tag you
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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
173 notes · View notes
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I've seen some people complain that by having so many powerful demigods in hoo, then it kinda defeats the whole point of pjo making such a big deal of children of the big three existing and the pact and what not, and I see you, but I raise you, that was the damn point. Hoo isn't saying that anyone can be as powerful as big three kids, it's making a point that these specific demigods are powerful as hell, and they're the exception, not the rule.
Like, let's think about it here- we've got Percy, Jason, and hazel who are all powerful we know obviously bc of their big three parentage, but what about the others? all athena kids are smart, but annabeth is regarded as a scary brilliant strategist, and is the first child of athena ever to find the athena parthenos and bring it back alive. clarisse is incredibly scary and talented in her own right, but she's not frank. even if we don't take into account his shapeshifting (which you absolutely should, it plays into my exception, not the rule argument), he has a command over war and strategy she simply doesn't. all hephestus kids are talented inventors, but it's never indicated they can invent shit on the fly as quickly or as skillfully as leo does. he's had the idea and basic blueprints for the argo 2 since he was a child and he's the only hephestus kid alive to have pyrokinesis (and the last guy who had the ability centuries ago completely fucked it up). drew has charmspeak, sure, but piper's is so much more powerful it's insane. here's your friendly reminder she charmspoke the completely metal festus to life while she was freezing her ass off and panicking.
Every kid of the big three is gonna be powerful; that's a given. but a powerful child of hephestus or mars or athena or aphrodite? to this kind of degree? and them joining together? it's unexpected, it's the exception, and is the product of a centuries old prophecy.
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mylittlegemlins · 23 days
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Spy x family hurt/comfort ideas for destroy your soul:
-loid and yor are expecting a child, anya is jealous that they don't love her as much as their own child.
-Loid, speaking seriously with Sylvia: " fuck it, I'm going to keep them and if you want me to continue being your star spy, you're going to give me missions that don't involve falling in love with women or adopting children, one is enough for me. "
-Loid thinks about the joy his wife and daughter bring him: God, when was the last time I did something just for… fun? Why I didn't do it befo-... oh right... This is a mission
-Loid wonders how Yor had never dated anyone until she was 27, then Yor interprets something very literal and Loid thinks, oh that's why.
-Since Loid saw that Anya had too much stress after the sandbox test, he is very worried about her mental health. Anya stares into space because she's busy thinking about what he thought. But he thinks that the poor girl she is dissociating due to a trauma and he tries to repair her with kisses and hugs.
-The mission ends on the night of a full moon, so Anya has no idea if her father plans to get rid of them, or how, or when, she just stays close to her parents for as long as she can.
-Yor begins to question if she is going to be married to Loid until death do them part, since she barely knows Loid... Well, she knows him a little... For a year... But she is not sure of her feelings for him.
- -Loid finally decides to take Anya to the doctor because bleeding from the nose every time you get overwhelmed by loud noises might not be normal. Anya is just terrified that the doctors will open her brain and see that she has her powers, somehow. he also discovers that she is very low in weight and height for her age and worries even more.
-you love me? Direct question to destroy the heart of the best spy in the country, especially if it comes from a child, especially if it comes from an orphan, especially if it comes from his daughter who has never lived more than 4 months with an adoptive family because they did not get attached to her. Answer honestly, she will know if you lie.
-The Strix mission ended. Loid abandons Anya and breaks up with Yor without much explanation. only to regret it 15 minutes later and run to find them.
-Anya obtains 7 tonitrus having already 7 stellas. And she knows that expulsion is closer than the prize. So she runs away from home.
- Anya is finally ready to tell Loid a little about her birth mother and the orphanage, and it hurts.
-Anya never had a birthday party because there was no budget at the orphanage. Loid is able to hiring even the boys who cry if that makes his daughter happy
-Yor is hospitalized due to a fight and telling your husband that you have appendicitis is easier than explaining to him that some criminals shot you 3 times in the hip and who the hell you're still alive.
-Bond has to bite one Forger to save them from some imminent danger he predicted but the rest of the family panics and gets very angry with Bond.
-"If you keep getting close to dangerous guys you are going to get really hurt one day." Ergo, Anya gets hurt.
-Did you know that adoptable children in real life know that their chances of being adopted go down as they grow older because most only adopt babies? Anya knows it.
-Loid and Yor have no choice but to sleep together because their daughter is terribly ill in the hospital and her last wish is to sleep with them together. Or she actually has a common cold and they took her to the emergency room because they panicked when her fever went up 0.1 degrees.
- Damian wants to hang out with Anya but he would never let Emilie and Ewen find out.
-Loid comforting Anya during an anxiety attack because he thinks it's because of her past and only he knows.
-Instead of directly saying that he wants to keep his family or give up being a spy, he begins by extending the mission for 4 more months, and then another 4 more. And when he realizes 4 years have passed.
-Yor asks Loid about his dead ex-wife because they will never go to leave her flowers or he doesn't have old photos of her and baby Anya. Loid has many photos to fake.
T/W torture
-Anya biological father is a voluteer or one of the scientist because she was made by artificial insemination so that she was born, Anya's mother was kidnapped from a rural town where her language was almost extinct.
-The scientists remove Anya's mother's tongue so that she cannot communicate with her other than through her telepathy.
-The scientists being really mad the first time that her powers didn't work during the full moon.
-Still has nightmares about the electroshock in the laboratory every time she failed the tests. Her parents try to console her but she can't tell them anything, even if she wants. still hurts.
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Arkhamverse Dork Squad having romance with their fem!therapist at Arkham in secret?
I went the route of starting the relationships, but I would be into the idea of expanding on these eventually!
Arkham!Dork Squad x Therapist!Reader Headcanons
SFW, secret relationship, power dynamic, shift in power dynamic, varying degrees of manipulation by the dorks
Jervis Tetch
The last thing Jervis wants is to be sent back to Arkham. It's a hellish place and nothing good has ever happened to him there.
That is until he has his first session with you.
You're not like the other doctors he's spoken to. You always have a kind word and genuinely seem to be trying to understand him.
He falls fast and hard. By your third session, he's already making his feelings known..
You think he's... Sweet. Charming, even. You'd be lying if you said there wasn't an attraction there, but... It would be highly unprofessional.
You're also aware of his history of being manipulated. With your position as his therapist, you're afraid of inadvertently taking advantage of him.
That doesn't stop him from trying to woo you.
Complimenting your appearance at the start of each session, slipping in hidden words of endearment when answering your questions.
Even giving you small gifts he makes from the few little crafting materials he's allowed to have. Usually origami.
You're falling for him. You'd lose your job if anyone found out.
The appropriate thing would be to transfer him to someone else, but you're afraid of how he'd react to the switch. He's been doing so well and you'd hate for him to lose that progress.
Looks like you have an important decision to make.
He greets you with his usual fondness and the gift of a paper flower.
"Jervis. We need to talk about... This," you say, holding up the gift you'd just received from him.
"About my affection?" He giggles, leaning forward in his chair. "Ah, doctor doctor. A glimpse of perfection! I certainly hope you have no objection..."
"I don't," you confess. And that's exactly the problem. "You know what that means, don't you?"
"Well. I believe it means," the Hatter grins ear to ear, clapping as he delivers his excited response. "The courtship has been successful! Now... When shall we have the wedding? I believe Spring is-"
"It means I can't be your therapist anymore, Jervis!"
His smile fades. A looked of panicked realization fills his eyes.
"You're... Leaving me?"
"No, I'm. I don't know what I'm doing, honestly."
Every idea you could think of to handle this while still keeping contact was flawed. Handing him over to another therapist would limit you to visiting hours. You'd barely see each other.
You couldn't just sign his release papers before he was ready either. And breaking him out was an absolute no-go.
He takes your hand in his. "Doctor, dear... Oh, can't you see? You're the only one who can understand me."
You realize that he's right. The other doctors don't get him. Don't respect him. They'd just as soon lock him away and forgot about him as look at him.
You can't leave him in someone else's hands. A secret relationship with your favorite patient it is then. Sealed, of course, with a kiss.
And to think you were worried about manipulating him.
Jonathan Crane
Jon seems... Indifferent toward you at the start of the session. All things considered, that doesn't really bother you.
You're more concerned when he starts turning the questions around on you. Asking you about your fears. You know he's done this with other doctors and it never ends well.
Usually they try to resist and end up playing directly into his hand regardless. He knows what he's doing, and if he's going to get his answers anyway...
You decide to try something different.
"Alright. We'll take turns. For each of my questions you answer honestly, I'll answer one of yours."
This surprises him somewhat. At least if the quirked brow is anything to go by.
He knows what you're trying to do here, and he honestly finds it naïve. Still... Something new, if nothing else. Sure. He'll play along.
"What kind of man was your father?" "How's your sleep? Fitful?" You go back and forth like this for a while.
He was expecting your first few questions. The basics that every doctor here uses to get a feel for their patient. But you manage to through a few curve balls as well. And he has to answer them or you'll deny him what he's looking for.
Perhaps you're not as naïve as he initially thought. A simple "well played, doctor," at the end of the session is as close as he'll come to admitting he's impressed.
Your following sessions follow a similar patterns. He tells you what you want to know, you tell him what he wants to know. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but a risk you're willing to take for even the smallest chance at progress.
You don't know when your mutual analysis of each other took a turn toward conversing like old friends, but somehow it made sense. You each knew things about the other that no one else did. As crazy as it sounded, there was a kind of trust there now.
Initially, that building of trust had been a part of Jon's plan. A way he could control you. What he hadn't planned on was his developing respect for you.
Respect that made it a whole lot harder for him to take advantage of that trust. But not impossible. A minor setback at worst, he assures himself. One he will overcome.
Or so he thinks, until the delay in his plans leaves just enough time for respect to develop into something more.
He's... Not happy with this development to say the least.
You notice during one of your sessions that he's quieter. Observing you more than usual.
You know him well enough to know that something's troubling him. And you bet your ass that as his therapist and friend, you're going to question him on it.
He evades the question at first, turning the questions around on you like he did in your first session.
And just like your first session, you bring out your now tried and true method. "I'll answer one of your questions. But you have to answer mine."
You even give him first question to sweeten the deal.
He trails off in thought, looking you over one last time before asking. "How's your sleep?"
"You've asked me that one before," you point out.
"Answer it."
"...Better, lately. Since we started having our talks," you confess.
There's a beat of silence. How rare it must be for the fearful Scarecrow to hear he'd had a positive impact on someone's sleep.
"Now," you tell him. "You have to answer my question. What's bothering you?"
"Unfortunately for us both, doctor," he finally answers. A curse on his plans, and certainly a curse on the recipient of his feelings. "It would seem that I'm in love with you."
You stare at him in silence, unable to find the words. As unprofessional as it may be, the feeling is mutual.
In lieu of a verbal response, you kiss him on the cheek, marking the beginning of a new secret between you.
Edward Nygma
As expected, he's highly antagonistic during your first session. There is nothing wrong with him, he insists, and your attempts to 'help' him are going to be a fruitless endeavor.
Needless to say, he doesn't like you.
Expect a lot of sarcasm, insults, and passive aggression.
You don't let it get to you though. Your job is to listen to him and help him work through his problems. Not that the man believes he has any problems, and he will lash out if you bring it up.
So you don't. You try to be more subtle.
You listen to him talk. You compliment him on his intelligence and insight, always toeing that line between validating him and just feeding his ego.
And honestly, you do believe he's brilliant. His potential is endless and you have no doubt that he could do just about anything he put his mind to.
Over time the barbed insults begin to fade, replaced by... Well, backhanded compliments.
"You know? You're not NEARLY as intellectually shortsighted as those other doctors I've spoken to. Why... I'm even beginning to believe you may possess a brain under that pretty little cranium of yours."
"Um... Thanks?"
No one said it would be easy, but you take this as a sign that he's warming up to you.
This is all but confirmed when he gifts you a puzzle box.
Where he got it, you have no idea. But his trust in you not to tell about the contraband item, not to mention the fact he would gift you something at all speaks volumes.
...Unless it's a trap.
"My dear, if I wished to entrap you, the means would be far more intricate than this."
Really. What do you take him for?
You think he couldn't turn your entire office into a deathtrap if he wanted to? Now that would be an endeavor worthy of his genius. And you'd never suspect a thing!
But no, he doesn't want you dead. He likes you doesn't want to waste his valuable time adjusting to a new therapist.
You keep the puzzle box secret, even as the guard arrive to take Eddie back to his cell.
And the moment you're alone, you start to work on it. You don't know what's driving you, but you're determined to solve it before your next session with him.
It takes... Longer than you expected. In hindsight, you suppose a puzzle from the Riddler wasn't going to be easy.
But little by little, you work at it, counting the days until you see Eddie again.
It's not until the final day that you manage to solve it. The box clicks open to reveal what is, essentially, a miniature Riddler trophy and the word 'CONGRATULATIONS' written in green across the bottom of the box.
Just in time to hear the knock at your office door. The guards bringing him in for his weekly session.
"I see you've solved it, doctor."
You nod your head, giving a hum of acknowledgement.
"And how long did it take you, might I ask?" he questions, eyeing you expectantly.
"I confess... I've been working on it all week."
A satisfied chuckle. "Then my estimations were correct. But then, that's hardly a surprise."
"Really, Ed? Another shot at my intelligence?" You quirk a brow. Your accusation is calm, but firm. "I take it this was an attempt to prove my stupidity."
He laughs at the insinuation, barking out an amused, "NO!"
You already know his opinions on the limited intellect of... Well, anyone who isn't him. Although the curse you bear isn't quite so heavy.
"Alright... But the way you're talking makes it sound like this wasn't just some random gift."
"Sharp as ever, doctor!"
"Then what? What was the point of this?"
"Mm... Think of it as... A little distraction. A way to keep you thinking about me until we could meet again."
He. Wanted to keep you thinking about him. You freeze at the implication, and you have to admit... That was smooth.
"Eddie. You know I'm your therapist. We can't-"
"Really? Because your eagerness to solve my puzzle. To IMPRESS me, and don't deny it doctor! I could see it in your eyes; tells me that we're already beyond a professional relationship."
The dawning realization that he's right consumes you. You had been trying to impress him. It had been the driving force behind your tireless efforts. The reason you couldn't just leave it alone.
You wanted his attention. And he wanted yours.
"So. You have another puzzle for me this week, I hope."
"I might have something... Trade you for a kiss."
You laugh quietly before allowing your lips to meet his. You know your job's on the line, but it's a risk you're willing to take.
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cephalog0d · 7 months
Text
Yeah I'm not done yet.
The thing I keep coming back to is that as much as I'm down to nit-pick things like how characters are written and plot details (and boy are there a whole infestation of nits to pick), what it boils down to is that the basic premise here shouldn't even be happening.
I get they're doing a Thing with Bruce and the after effects of Failsafe and Zur and Insomnia so sure I guess it makes sense to have him acting totally unreasonably. I'm not saying it's a plotline I'm thrilled with, but whatever. This is about everyone else.
You have half a dozen people routinely patrolling in Gotham, who've been doing it for years, who know the city and how it works, who have at least two people who are particularly inclined towards collecting and parsing data for patterns for crime fighting purposes, and none of you noticed anything amiss until Selina called and was like "Hey did you notice my neat new plan I've been doing?"
To that point, in a room full of literal canonical geniuses not a single person has thought to ask any of a dozen very practical questions that occurred to me, a non-genius reader, roughly 10 seconds after reading what The Plan was. Things like, oh, I don't know
How is this going to be a sustainable long-term effort?
For example, what happens when Gotham's wealthiest realize what you're doing and dramatically beef up their security (with tech or with actual people), making it much harder and more dangerous?
Like iirc you, Selina, have definitely had some real dicey situations as a result of your profession, and you're a lot more experienced than these people.
(Hey speaking of which isn't there a whole secret society of Gotham's wealthiest and most powerful who have access to nearly unkillable assassins? Who keeps coming back even though they keep being taken down? You think any of these people might belong to that?)
What happens when the rich folks get pissed and sic the heavily militarized GCPD on you? Don't act like they won't, I'm sure someone's squirreled away stuff from that whole Fear State fiasco.
For that matter, what happens when the costumed villainry figure out who swiped all their henchpeople and decide to object to it, presumably violently?
How many people are we talking here anyway that you're training? How many ultra-wealthy people live in Gotham? How many easily stealable things do they have sitting around to take? (As opposed to, like, other non-liquid fake assets like stocks)
How are you fencing all this anyway? Isn't that a great way to get caught? Or is everyone just stealing cash? (Or did nobody think about the part between "got the valuable thing" and "have usable money from it"?)
How on god's green earth did you ever assume this was going to end in anything other than violence?
Like of course one of your guys got killed. It doesn't matter that you told them no violence, even if they fully buy into that it only takes one panicked reaction when someone's home who shouldn't be, on either side, and there you go.
Look I get what they're trying to do. It's supposed to be a big moral quandary about whether it's right to allow some crime if it decreases other crime, the struggle between Batman being unreasonably violent and unwilling to listen and this new plan of Selina's. First of all that's a weird debate to have when everyone having it is technically a criminal to some degree. And second of all, it doesn't matter, this isn't about the morality, this is about how this plan is fucking dumb and was destined to fall apart even if Batman was still asleep and the fact that any of you are buying it just means there's a gas leak in Gotham somewhere.
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