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#Because it's important to him. He tries to be a kind person. For shadow
birdcagcd · 2 years
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I'm thinking very hard about sonadow
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solbaby7 · 6 months
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Seen
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: possible swearing but this is mainly just fluff, maybe a splash of sexual tension but I love a good slow burn when it comes to azzyboy
summary: Nosy by nature, you follow a few stray shadows somewhere you know you don’t belong—better not get caught
You shouldn’t be here.
You definitely shouldn’t be here.
But everytime you stopped, tried to turn back and go where you came, those little shadows stopped you. Wrapping around your legs like snakes, pulling at your clothes and gently pushing you forward down a dark hallway with only one door.
You knew you shouldn’t have touched it.
But the little shadows twisted the knob for you, door opening with a slow creek.
“Absolutely not,” You say to the hovering shadow, unsure if it could understand you but the way it curled around your shoulders and urged you forward seemed like a “actually, you will”.
It was a little colder in here, a room filled to the brim with all sorts of treasures. Weapons hang neatly against the wall above the fireplace, swords sharper than the jagged rocks weathered by the crashing tide deep below the mountains. Armor and fighting leathers of all sizes and stitching hang on a rack in the corner, perfectly clean save a few random holes—war wounds you concluded.
But whose?
The answer becomes more apparent when you prod a little further, carefully observing rare books; some with languages carved on the spine you hadn’t even known existed. Paintings hang on the wall, some of landscapes, a few of the Night Court, but one makes your eyes widen—the painting Feyre had made for Azriel.
You step back immediately, the shadow holding at your arm to brace you. “I really shouldn’t be in here.” You whisper at it, fixing the papers on the desk you’d stumbled into.
“No, you really shouldn’t.”
Your body freezes, hands stuck in place over the little wooden figurine you’d knocked over and the profanity that slips out is nothing above a whisper. “I swear I wasn’t snooping.”
It definitely looks like you’re snooping, hands all over personal paperwork that once you squinted your eyes to look at, you realize they’re reports; mission debriefs, important information that you certainly shouldn’t know and the whine that pulls in your distress, Azriel actually finds kind of cute. “Okay.” There’s no reading the expression on his face, dark hair tumbling down his shoulders. His shirts unbuttoned, golden brown skin capturing your attention and you force your eyes away before you get caught up in the giant wings tucked behind him. “Why are you here?”
Your fear morphs into anger, pointer finger jabbing at the two shadows slinking about your feet, nearly fully hidden if it weren’t for the smoke like wisps that curled in the air. “They made me, I swear. I didn’t even open the door.”
Azriel says nothing, wings ruffling when he beckoned them, silently commanding they return but the shadows don’t obey. They hide behind your frame, flitting about your clothes and one settles around the back of your neck like a sleepy cat. “Interesting.”
“They’re kinda cute,” You admit softly, eyes transfixed on the newest addition to your shoulders and when your fingers come to touch it, it feels cool. “—if they weren’t so naughty.” As if remembering you’re not alone you look back up, hand lowering back down to your sides as you stand there awkwardly. “But, I suppose I didn’t exactly fight them that hard—I was a little curious.”
“Dangerous thing, curiosity. People have killed over less.”
It takes everything in you not to step back because even though the words are slightly threatening, they aren’t untrue. “I apologize—I’ll go now.”
“If you weren’t actually snooping through my papers,” Azriel begins, the shadows attached to him preventing you from going any further and the two connected to you reach out to the others—bumping against one another like bees communicating where the most pollen was. A few more reach out to you, curiously prodding at your clothes, your hair, curling around your arm and gliding through the gaps of your fingers. “What were you looking at?”
You answer quickly albeit a little distracted by the smoky darkness crawling up your shirt and around your neck. “I was—“ Your breath catches when they squeeze a little, blush fanning. “Can you get them off please?”
“Believe it or not,” You dare look up at him and find that he looks just as flustered as you by his shadows. “I’m trying but they’re not really responding to me at the moment.”
Panic is evident on your face and the swirling gems containing the true extent of his power behinds to glow a little, shadows being pulled back like a magnet no matter how hard they latch on. “Does that happen often.”
Azriel’s hand reached out, snatching at one that dared try to pull away. He doesn’t look at you when he tucks it back with the others. “No.”
There’s a pause, a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable but you still feel the need to fill it when you skim over parts of the room you hadn’t been able to explore before. “What is all of this stuff?” You’re moving before you can tell your feet to stop, settling before a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of precious gems, glimmering necklaces and two neatly hung dresses and though neither are quite as high quality as the stones; your hand still hovers over them, fingertips millimeters from the shiny glass. “It’s beautiful.”
You don’t hear anything for some time, too entranced with the golden arm cuff that had been carefully designed into a vine with detailed leaves and stems that seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. “They’re for,” Azriels voice is low, clearing his throat when his breath catches slightly. “—they were for my mother.”
Were.
You don’t look at him, granting him the gift of privacy because it was obvious this wasn’t exactly an easy subject and even more clear that procuring this many words from him was a feat in itself. You hum instead, trying to appear as casual as possible as you appreciate items not meant for other eyes—treasures meant for a someone who was no longer with us. “She must’ve been lovely—probably a bit complex,” You say without thinking. “Probably really kind too and good with nature,” You add, looking back at the arm cuff.
A blush forms when you finally turn to face him again, his mouth is slightly agape and you can’t quite put your finger on the way he’s staring at you. “You get all that from some jewelry?”
You scoff as if they’re your own, defending them like you’d picked them yourself. “They’re not just jewelry. Look at how intricate the pieces are,” You point at them, never touching the glass in fear of leaving a fingerprint or possibly breaking it. “Each and every one of them probably look careful thought and planning and endless hours of time spent bringing it to life. The care; the love put into them it’s—“ You let out a breath, realizing how fast you were talking and how quick you were breathing. Suddenly, you feel shy with his eyes studying you. “It’d be a disservice to just call them jewelry when it’s so clear her soul’s in every piece.”
Azriel’s not a man of many words, so you don’t force them. Instead you dip you head in farewell, returning the clingy shadows and making way to leave when you hear a whisper so soft you nearly mistake it for the wind. “I thought so too.”
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huiyi07 · 11 days
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hey so do you guys ever think about how often Diluc is referred to as the ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ since he’s like the only male heir to the noble families and like it or not, where Jean is the authority of the nation, he’s pretty much the symbolic face of Mondstadt and the values the nation projects— and despite his temperament, Diluc has learned to embrace it wholeheartedly. He’s charismatic, extremely righteous, and he blazes bright and gives the people of Mondstadt a fire that guides them in the dark, quite literally. Like he’s literally Bruce Wayne lmao
But he doesn’t want this, no, and here’s the proof- maybe he did, once upon a time, before everything happened— but he doesn’t really care about wine, he only cares about the winery because of the people in it and his father. He’s righteous but doesn’t give a damn about the rules and the knights of favonius. After what happened to him, he’s clearly a rebel at heart now, not some charming superhero who does everything expected of him, unlike before. In summary, Diluc was someone who was quite literally ready to become an (uncrowned) prince, pretty much royalty in every way except title- and on surface level, he still is, but he throws that mantle away in secret whenever he can.
And then look at Kaeya, his brother who’s always lived in his shadow. It’s easy to see that now, people don’t really project Mondstadt’s values onto Kaeya the same way they do onto Diluc, since lots of people hardly even remember that they’re brothers. And yeah people still think kaeya is reliable and nice, but also because of how Kaeya built his image after Diluc left— an excessively over the top personality that pretends to be sadistic, mean, and at the same time dripping with false charm. So despite that people still find him approachable and nice as expected of a knight, hardly anyone would call him befitting of a prince.
But Kaeya is actually so painfully and authentically ‘princely’ and kind, deep down— the way he deals with children, his fierce loyalty and willingness to protect people at all costs, his self sacrificial tendencies that most often appear for Diluc’s sake. Even the tidbits of lore we get about him scream aristocracy- his ‘ceremonial’ bladework, Alberich family secrets that reveal just how central they are to the kingdom of khaenriah. This is kinda obvious to any player who’s bothered to learn anything about kaeya, but to the characters in game, there are very few that know that side of him.
And whereas Diluc is forcibly projected the title of royalty and secretly rejects it, Kaeya was actually born into it- his family is very important to Khaenriah, and much like how he does with anything related to his past and heritage, he loudly and outwardly rejects it. Diluc outwardly rejects what Kaeya shows (a darker, more ‘means justify the end’ nature), and Kaeya tries to hide what Diluc projects (a sophisticated and kind upbringing).
Honestly? It’s as if they were swapped at birth. Kaeya’s real hidden nature, even after everything that happened to him, remains to be so unwavering and people-oriented, while Diluc’s true personality changed drastically over time. Not that Diluc isn’t unwavering or whatever, but Diluc mostly actively rejects relationships and prefers to do everything alone, obsessed with the idea that he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, whereas Kaeya always, always yearns for companionship and for people to be by his side- solidarity.
Diluc is the poster image of royalty, but his brother who hides in the shadows is a real king. They complete each other, balance each other out, represent the parts that the other hides. I don’t know if hoyoverse always meant them to be that way, but damn they basically represent each other’s parts of themselves that they lost. Yin and Yang, two halves of the same whole.
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thesuperiorrobin · 8 months
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Potential love troups? With a twist?
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Friends to lovers ~
A classic love between two best friends as they try to hide their feelings for one another afraid it might ruin their friendship. Damian is brutal when he tries to hide his feelings—and sometimes wonder why you’re still friends with him. He falls in love with you because you understand him and aren’t friends with him because of who his father is. You fall in love because he’s a kind person despite being ruthless to everyone else. But to you he won’t return the feelings, will he?
Enemies to lovers~
Another classic expects it’s between the love of two sidekicks. You two fight around the city in the middle of the night while he’s on patrol. He hates how you’re always involved in everything and you hate how he stops you from everything. Won’t be a dull moment between the two when you aren’t throwing punches at each other. Until one day something bad happens and Damian dressed as Robin gets himself into trouble that leaves him bloody and bruised. You saved and cared for him—still keeping his identity a secret. He appreciated it.
Fake relationship~
Rumors going around about Damian dating this woman whom he does not like— so to steer clear from the news headlines he asked you, his long-term friend, to be in a fake relationship to get out of it. It works, but now the headlines are about you two, so you two play along for a few more months. Everything was fake. The dates that you purposely planned to get caught. But we’re the kisses fake too?
Forced marriage~
A marriage planned by your parents and his mother. Damian’s older now and now leads the League of Assassins with the burden on his back. You aren’t important to the league — and your only purpose is to give the Al Ghuls another heir after Damian. So you stand in the shadows, behind your husband everywhere he goes. Damian Al Ghul is a brutal man outside those doors, yelling at the people below him to work harder, a brutal man on missions he’s assigned. But behind closed doors, he’s a gentleman, towards you that is. A part of him pitty’s you. You didn’t ask to be married to a man like him. But you reassured him countless times you don’t mind it. A heavyweight leaves your shoulders when he promises to keep you safe. Maybe this forced marriage won’t be bad after all.
Soulmates/Best friends to lovers
An AU of mine where both you and Damian were married 100 years ago, so in love it made everyone jealous. You two were soulmates in another life, but that life was cut short after your lives were taken away from you. Now your souls are reincarnation to today's world. The world where you too are not a couple but rather best friends. There was some sort of connection when you two met and you instantly clicked. But you both have a small feeling you two should be something more than friends. “You think we were best friends in our past lives?” “I highly doubt that…”
Secret dating!
Can go both ways! You’re dating Robin, the vigilant sidekick that rides alongside the Dark night of Gotham. Ideally, you keep it a secret. For everyone—that includes Batman himself (but he knows) for many reasons the main one being He’s afraid of losing you. Some so many people want him and Batman dead and if they found out about you, you were as good as dead too.
Or
You’re dating Damian. You two agreed on keeping it private. Paparazzi doesn’t know what boundaries are in the world and Damian wanted to protect you from them. That was his main goal—that and keeping you a secret from his family. They’re embarrassing, to say the least, and if they found out about you he would never hear the end of it. Although Alfred already knows who you are.
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anantaru · 1 year
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SLEEPLESS NIGHTS SHINE SO BRIGHT
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — sleepless nights with your boyfriend kuni.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ —1.1k
— ꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, soulmates, just very indulgent and fluffy
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"kuni… are you asleep?"
snugly protected by the silky and soft blankets of your bed, there‘s a settling fatigued, weary voice scattered across the shaded room, your voice, that was spelling out your boyfriends name.
"i‘m not."
"—how did you know i wasn't?!"
of course you knew, you cannot not know, because no one was as exhausted and kept up by their own overactive mind as scaramouche was.
yet believe it or not, kuni would learn of a habit that was dear to him, more so important.
it was to wait for you to doze of way before he was allowed to do so himself— it‘s not like he was doing it on purpose anymore, maybe at first to make sure you‘re out of danger and safe, notwithstanding was it turning into a personal act of love, acting out the words his affections spoke to him.
scaramouche slowly slopes his arm over your body to lean into you— yet with your current state, you don’t have the energy to say anything or move at all— your muscles were thoroughly glutted with exhaustion.
while it was strenuous at first, he was finally close to you now. his warm touch the softest, gentlest and rarest, it's intoxicating and can turn a simple moment such as this one into home.
kuni’s head uses you as his own personal pillow and you feel his little hair strands repeatedly tickle your cheeks. It made you smile vividly and clear— and your heart was swelling deeply within your rib cage whenever you encountered such sincerity.
urgently, he was softly outlining your frame over your clothed body with his fingers. kuni's caress was exceptionally light  and even inside the shadowed room that was clouding his pretty face from your eyes to see— you could regardless of that, discern a tranquil smile squared on his lips— at nothing but the refined look of you being awake, next to him, being together.
"you can‘t sleep as well?" a whisper closing around your ears as he rubs your arm, silently placing his lips on you to pull you in for a quick kiss.
"no.." your breathing was slowed, emerging set apart, "i tried to sleep but it's not working." he can feel you hum against him, distantly, — a tilt shaken, somewhat saddened.
but here, you were safe, kuni realizes, there was no need for you to feel dejected. here, you were given the love you deserve, because all the repeated fire that burned in him was for you. here, in his arms, nothing was extinguished nor forgotten, but it was easier to navigate through, together.
"can you tell me a story kuni?" you tenderly slide your hands into his loose fitting sleepwear and hug him tight while drawing small circles on his bare back.
he quietly hisses at the coldness of your dainty fingers but melts into your touch despite that, smiling.
"hmmm.. a story?" he drawls and squeezes himself close to you— but by how he was approaching you, gentle and content, there‘s a honey laced perception in his tone of mannerism, an understanding kindness that only he was able to display on you. he‘s again, only offering you what you deserve, in kuni‘s eyes, it‘s everything and all.
he thinks about it, focusing and closing his eyes, hauling out a low lift of air from his lungs before speaking once more, "did i ever tell you about how i beat those two fatui guards up?" he whispers it, but proudly smirks into you too, like it‘s a love confession of some sort, as if this story wasn‘t filled with pure danger and sheer bloodlust.
a listless, airy laugh emits from the tip of your tongue which had brought his attention right back to you, "i don‘t think you did." but as you snuggle into his chest, effortlessly closing your eyes and giggle, you were eagerly awaiting a story that surely was to be wildly humorous and engaging to listen to.
"i‘ll make sure to leave out the violent stuff so you won‘t get nightmares because of me."
kuni kisses your temple, playfully entangling his legs with your own and coaxing out another laugh from past your lips— he loves doing that, letting yourself feel and experience, letting your tense shoulders fall back into the silken cushions as you play out the silly game.
now, the situation seemed more inviting, more, flowing. your mind was moderately simmering down, little by little, bit by bit.
"you‘re sweet, you know that?" this was a reminder you had planned to point out way sooner, "and you're mine kuni." with the little intention behind your words being to have your cute boyfriend flustered and giddy, all while innocently mushed into your body.
and oh, who could've seen that coming? could it be that you caught the usual cool headed and self controlled scaramouche off guard?
maybe, or— lets be real; clearly.
the truth was, kuni realizes that he needs this from you, to hear it, to receive a certain satisfaction that stirs his soul— to soften the emotions in him that were circumstantially hardened by his past.
something that would completely overthrow him to the furthest extent, words colliding and preciously riveting in his belly from how settling and compelling it was to hear this from you.
a reminder from his soulmate, you can say.
"you‘re saying this because you‘re tired." he proposes and fights back the urge to plant kisses all over your face and quote on quote, overdo it— but the spirited heatwave in his cheeks was only partly able to be kept concealed from you.
"no no no." you start to whine, leaning your forearms over his chest so he'd be the one laying down now, so it was you who could watch him perfectly— his scruffy hair, his beclouded eyes hanging low, his skin pale and illuminated by a single broken ray of moonlight flaring down on top of him, exposing his firm shoulders and collarbones from under the way too large sleep shirt he was wearing.
"i‘m saying it because it‘s true!" you huff, your eyes sparkling like the prettiest, most ethereal stars in the sky. "you're mine!"
"you need to stop doing that!" kuni can‘t elaborate on this feeling and hides his face into your neck, "don't do this." and a squeezed out mumble effuses from him onto your skin as he placed sweet little kisses on your neck.
you turned him all shy and embarrassed yet he’s rolling his eyes because, yes, you got him speechless, finally.
you giggle and slide your digits over the sharp outline of his jaw, "i'm not doing anything!" though he knows it better, knows when you were being particularly evil and ready to play out a short, cryptic game.
"fine.." he fights back a smile, "suit yourself then."
it's been a long time since you had him wholly dumbstruck and left bewildered, but … maybe he'll let you off the hook for tonight.
"tsk." he suddenly clicks his tongue, "—and here i wanted to tell you my story but you kept interrupting me!"
the night goes and passes between laughter and you kiss his lips under the stars that rest above you both, "please do tell."
and from the demise of the darkened negatives you felt just moments ago, kuni and you happily chatted away until the first out of many rays of sunlight grazed your fulfilled bodies with their presence.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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sky-scribbles · 11 months
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Shepard holds a funeral for her clone.
The paperwork is almost harder than the ceremony. Turns out it’s tricky to register the death of someone whose birth - creation? Decanting-from-vat? - was never recorded to begin with. Then there’s some kind of question about whether the clone needs to be retroactively registered as a Council space citizen to have her death put on the official record, and if so, whether she counts as a member of the Systems Alliance or as an ‘undocumented alien’. Which is pretty fucking ironic, considering how utterly she’d have loathed having the word alien attached to her.
And once Shepard’s ground her teeth through a dozen calls and bludgeoned through the first layer of formwork - a death certificate still needs a name.
‘I have to put something,’ she says. She’s aware that her voice is ragged, and that Kaidan is watching her as he brews her fourth coffee of the evening with concern heavy on his face. She must look barely alive, up near midnight in a kitchen that was Anderson’s and still feels nothing like hers, hair falling forward, eyes shadowed grey. Datapads and empty mugs strewn around her. Fine. She’s felt barely alive ever since she woke up in a Cerberus lab.
‘You could choose one for her,’ Kaidan says gently. A lot of people speak to her gently, these days.
‘She’d hate that. A name makes you individual. She didn’t want to be an individual; she wanted to be me.’
The cofee machine whirrs softly, sounding louder than it is in the open space of the apartment. It still doesn’t feel right, all this space for one person. Someone could drown in this much space.
‘She didn’t want to be you, though. Not really.’ Kaidan pours out the coffee, his eyes only leaving her face for a moment. ‘What she wanted was to be the symbol. The face on the vids.’
He carries the mug over and sets it down beside her hand. Shepard grips it tight. The unfinished form blinks up at her from the datapad screen, and she looks away.
‘I’m not asking this because I don’t support you doing it, or to judge you for it, or anything,’ Kaidan says, after a moment. ‘I just want to understand. Can you tell me why this is so important to you? I mean - I get that you were trying to save her, and she... she let go. But...’
He hesitates, and in his silence Shepard hears, she tried to kill you. She tried to take you away from me, and everyone who cares about you, for a second time - because she was jealous.
Shepard sips her coffee. It hasn’t had time to cool down, and her lips smart. She ignores it. She thinks.
‘What you said about... being the symbol,’ she says at last. ‘I get why she wanted it, or thought she did. I understand feeling that Commander Shepard is someone bigger than you are.’
Kaidan breathes out slowly, and takes a seat beside her.
‘I get feeling that you’re so small, so nothing, next to everyone’s idea of what Commander Shepard is. And when I fall short -’ She sees him prepare to protest, and cuts across him. ‘I do, I do all the time - I feel like it’d be easier if I were the symbol. Not...’ She waves a hand, indicating all the sleep-starved mess of her. ‘This. I don’t even know when what would Shepard do and what will I do stopped feeling like the same question.’
She lets her hand fall back onto the table. Kaidan takes it and holds it tight.
‘And I think of her, the clone, waking up in some Cerberus med bay. Confused. And Brooks - Brooks was there, feeding her things to believe, manipulating her, turning her into the symbol she wanted. And I get it.’ Shepard bites her burned lip. ‘Because I woke up in a Cerberus lab. And I was scared. And they used me, and I let them.’
What she does not add is, and sometimes I don’t feel any more real than her. I don’t have any way to prove that I’m the woman who died in the wreckage of her broken ship. They wiped away that woman’s scars. There could be all kinds of tech in my head, feeding me a lie, telling me I’m real.
She swallows. Her throat feels raw. ‘And now the clone’s dead, and no one cares. We’re planning a fucking party. If I don’t push for a funeral, she’ll just go unregistered and undocumented and everyone will keep joking about how crazy this whole mess has been, how I fell through a fish tank and a mad clone tried to steal my life, and it’d be like she never existed at all. I don’t have to fill in these forms. I could take the easy road and let her be a ghost. But I can’t do that, Kaidan. I can’t.’
He looks at her, his eyes steady and patient and full of worry. Then he slips an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in, and Shepard leans into him, needing the surety of his touch, his warmth. Anything that tells her she’s something more than a force piloting a set of N7 armour.
Kaidan presses a slow kiss to the top of her head. He holds her until she stops feeling ready to howl. Then he sits with her and helps her fill in the forms, helps her choose a name for the clone, one that fits. When morning comes, he calls C-Sec and stays on the line until they agree to release the body to the Normandy, into the custody of the only person who could be considered the dead woman’s relative. 
He doesn’t ask Shepard any more questions as to why she needs this done.
In the end, they bury her in space, as Shepard would a crewmate. And no one has stories to tell of what she meant to them. They have nothing to say about the achievements of her angry little life. But they wear their dress blues, and speak softly, and they turn the lights down low.
Shepard doesn’t know if this is what her clone would have wanted. Maybe she never learned to want anything for herself at all. It doesn’t matter. A funeral doesn’t help her clone; it helps her.
They lift the casket into the airlock. EDI opens the outer door. And the casket leaps away into space in a blur of silver-grey, like the body within is hungry for the stars.
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kohabielnin · 4 months
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General Relationships
To celebrate my birthday today (February 5th), I thought I'd share some General Relationships with my favorite characters, I just put those that don't have a general relationship or bf
To be honest, I had forgotten that the Cheshire Cat has one, but as I only remembered it when I was finished, I decided that it would remain
Morningstar/Ithaqua
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• As a king, he is a bit busy and sometimes forgets to pay attention to you,
• For me, there are few things he doesn't know how to do,
• Another who is cute when he wants to be, but to the public he is an evil sadist,
• You are still the only person who has seen his gentle and loving side,
• A complete little love in private,
• He is very afraid of losing you, even if you say you won't leave him
Moonlight Gentleman/Joseph Desaulnier
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• He often acts like a dog,
• He loves to caress his ears and especially if you massage them, you can be sure that you will have a puppy with a wagging head,
• Exorcist to this day has not said his opinion due to the relationship you have with Moonlight,
• This dog man, just hearing his name makes his tail wag,
• He tries to hide the fact that his tail is wagging in your presence because he thinks it's embarrassing, even if you say it's cute,
• To be honest, I would like to have a Moonlight of my own because he's so cute, but I have to settle for his skin
Exorcist/Aesop Carl
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• I have some controversial opinions regarding him,
• He could go from calm to cold in seconds,
• Moonlight really likes your relationship for some reason he never said,
• As an Exorcist, he sometimes comes home very late,
• He's not much for physical contact, but he enjoys stroking your hair,
• You, him and Moonlight watch the sunset every day together
Phoenix/Aesop Carl
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• This man is cute and shy because of his fear of being hunted,
• Likes to watch the stars with you,
• In my opinion, he and the Cheshire Cat are the cutest, right after Victor Specter,
• He tries not to be so cute, but he just can't,
• He really likes sweets and his food,
• A great, gentle and kind companion who won't leave your side unless you ask
Cheshire Cat/Naib Subedar
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• He's cute, without a shadow of a doubt the cutest after Phoenix, or even before,
• Purrs while you stroke his hair,
• Even though he is half feline, he doesn't have much freshness to eat,
• Don't think you can pet his tail, he will still bite and scratch you if you do that, he doesn't like having his tail touched,
• He likes to sleep on your lap or on top of a tree like a cat,
• The only thing he doesn't like is you changing your tone of voice when calling him, after all he doesn't like feeling like a pet
Luca Balsa
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• To this day he wonders why you chose him,
• Already made a kitten robot for you,
• He doesn't really know how to be affectionate, but the important thing is that he tries,
• He's a bit annoying because of his low self-esteem,
• Alva never stops thanking you for taking care of Luca,
• He's a little jealous and doesn't like seeing you around Kevin
Edgar Valden
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• He is annoying, very annoying, doesn't like anything and complains about almost everything,
• The only thing he openly says he likes is painting with you, but only also,
• He's a real tsundere,
• When he wants to, he is kind and leaves his arrogance aside, but only if you two are alone,
• He likes having you sitting on his lap,
• You may have accidentally become his muse
Matthias Czenin
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• His attitude has always been a little shy and almost everything scares him, not that you can blame him,
• You two already tried to get rid of Louis, but it didn't end very well, unfortunately,
• He loves your company and feels calm in your presence,
• Louis seems to have a strange attachment to you, honestly, this scary doll,
• Please try to get rid of this doll, he is completely scary...
• Sometimes, just sometimes Louis lets you two have your privacy, but just as he disappears, he appears
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autistichalsin · 4 months
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What are some of Halsin's flaws, in your opinion?
Halsin's flaws, personality and others, major and minor (note that some of these are a bit circumstantial):
-He can't control his baser/animal instincts, which comes out in his wildshape issues. This corresponds with bloodlust in his animal form.
-He isn't suited for Druidic leadership, as shown at the Grove, which led to disastrous consequences.
-By his own admission, he focuses too hard on the tasks important to him and lets other ones fall by the wayside.
-Due to the above, he struggles tremendously with balancing conflicting obligations; he didn't bother much with the Grove when he was trying to solve the Shadow Curse, abandoned the Grove when the player showed up (though of course that was also due to his trauma and hatred of the Archdruid role), and if romanced to Karlach, is one of the only ones who refuses to go to Avernus with her, feeling that he and he alone can start the commune for the children and their needs are greater than hers.
-He has a self-sacrificial view about what being "good" is, and feels that he has to be unhappy if he's helping; he let himself suffer as Archdruid for 100 years rather than find someone else to take the role, and in the ending, he tries to break up with a romanced player to start his commune both because of his possible abandonment issues and because he doesn't see room for his own happiness when he's trying to help people.
-As I just mentioned, he does have abandonment issues to a degree; if the player dumps him in the ending, he says he knows nothing lasts forever. If the player suggests the party go their separate ways immediately after the battle, he says it was always destined to be so, but it stings nonetheless. He is shocked when the player comes to rescue him from Orin if taken.
-While he is an extremely kind and forgiving person, he has limits, and once those have been crossed, he gets very vengeful (I.E. everyone involved in his captivity with the goblins, or saying he'd like to "do the same" to whoever killed and stuffed a young bear for decoration in one shop in Baldur's Gate).
-He misreads social cues fairly often.
-He seems better able to assert his boundaries to strangers than to his friends and loved ones, I.E., not having much of a negative reaction to a Lolthsworn Drow threatening to sell him back into slavery.
-Because nature is his way of understanding the world, he struggles to understand things through any other lens. He has little interest in other things that can't be considered part of either nature or his Druidic duties.
-He takes things very literally at times, I.E. the phrase "you can say that again."
-He doesn't bother trying to hide when he doesn't like someone (I.E. if the player has incredibly low approval with him).
-He can sometimes be insensitive on accident, such as saying "imagine the horrors" when they're in a tadpoling facility, to Wyll in particular, though he does apologize right away when called on it.
-He is slow to true anger, but sometimes quick to annoyance, at least where strangers are concerned. (This is more so the case if they question him).
-He infamously doesn't trust Drow, and while this is justified in the case of Lolth-sworn Drow, he is initially mistrustful of the player if they are a Seldarine Drow too (though later he shows far more trust of Seldarine than Lolth Drow).
-His objections to some of the evil things encountered in the game are their unnaturalness more than their evilness, fitting with the Druidic belief that evil is as much a part of the world as good. He is more upset at how unnatural the tadpoles are than anything, at least at first, and if the Dark Urge shows off the Slayer form in front of him, he says it's "most unnatural. Most foul," and says that it only serves death/murder. (It's how unnatural and unbalanced it is that it bothers him more than the form being a giant monster, basically.)
-He has a huge case of hero worship to the player, which is why he falls in love with them almost immediately after they break the Shadow Curse, and has feelings for them even sooner than that.
-He despises turnips.
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silverskye13 · 3 months
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Ooooo it was so hard picking just one prompt, but for the Situation Game- Could you do #48? Enemy caretaker fic with Tanguish and Wels? Tanguish finds Wels unconscious and (against his better judgement) takes care of him until he wakes up. (Alternatively, you could do Helsknight and Tango, if that first prompt doesn't click. I've been drawing those two interacting so they've been on my mind lol)
He hadn't expected to find him there, was the thing. Tango had asked him to go check through Decked Out while he was gone -- some meetup with Impulse and Zed, it sounded like it would take awhile. Tanguish had heard rockets and wisely hid, and then the rockets left. He assumed someone was dropping something off, or maybe had planned to see Tango only to realize Tango wasn't there. And maybe that was exactly what happened.
The important thing was: Tanguish didn't hear what direction the rockets went. He didn't hear the Warden caged downstairs growl or shriek. He didn't hear a crash, or a scream, or any other indication that an accident had happened. So when he stumbled on Welsknight on the lowest floor of Decked Out, unconscious, it had been... Well it had been a shock. He hadn't even known it was a person at first. He saw a bundle of something on the ground, and he placed down the shulker box he'd been carrying and went over to investigate. When the pile of elytra and armor resolved itself into Welsknight, Tanguish froze, heart racing.
(He should leave him here.)
It wasn't a kind thought, but Tanguish was, rightly, he thought, terrified of Welsknight. If their situations were switched, and it was Welsknight walking up on Tanguish crumpled and unconscious on the floor, he was sure the knight would kill him and he done with it. Just one less problem to deal with. Simple. And while Tanguish was far from able to kill in cold blood -- or killing in general -- leaving the knight here would serve a similar end. Not his problem. He would wake up, or he wouldn't. Tango would find him, or he wouldn't. Whatever happened, it didn't have to be Tanguish that dealt with it.
Except, standing over Welsknight, Tanguish was struck by how much he looked like Helsknight. Their differences were unmistakable up close. He was an inch or two shorter, his hair a sun-gilded auburn, and even bruised he looked gentler, like the world had been kind to him. Their resemblance was brotherly, something about the build and the set of the jaw. But it was enough that Tanguish imagined Helsknight crumpled on the ground somewhere, and how terrible it would be to leave him behind. So, lanced with guilt that made no sense, but compelled to act on it regardless, Tanguish set to work making sure the fool knight didn't die.
Tanguish didn't have much on his person to help with healing, and even if he knew where Tango kept potions, it would be a long climb back up to the Decked Out storage room. He did his best to check for broken bones, looking for odd angles or swelling or crooked joints and finding none. He had to take off the knight's helmet to check for a head injury, found a pretty decent welt, but nothing that suggested blood or breaking.
Tanguish glanced around. They weren't really in the safest place. Beneath the unfinished game, scaffolding blocks and incomplete redstone lines cast long shadows where creatures spawned and congregated, and it wouldn't do to get them both killed by a spider or a zombie down here. Tanguish tentatively explored around, and managed to find a suitably defensible crevasse (a hole in the wall really, probably dug out while Tango was measuring something or other to do with the game). He circled his arms around Welsknight's chest and, as gingerly as possible, tried to drag him in that direction. Then less gingerly, when the knight barely budged. And then Tanguish slumped to the ground because, gods and saints, were people always that heavy? He knew he wasn't the strongest, but he could carry his own weight up the side of a building. Surely he could drag a knight a couple dozen blocks?
Tanguish huffed out a sigh and stared down at Welsknight thoughtfully. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that?"
(That was mean. Even enemies were worth saving, so long as they didn't do something mean to make him regret it after.)
Tanguish took another pensive look around, and content nothing was about to attack him for his efforts, knelt and began taking the knight's armor off. He had a little knowledge of all the different buckles and bracers and how they worked (he'd seen Helsknight take them on and off a thousand times). It took some fumbling, especially around the chest plate, where he had to gently turn Welsknight over and prop him up, and support his head because flopping around on his neck like that couldn't be good for him, and, gods, this was stupid and awkward and terrible. He really, really should've just left. But then he was done, and when he slipped his arms around the knight to drag him again, he actually managed to move him a few steps without his back breaking, so he took that as his sign from the universe to keep going.
Tanguish wanted the universe to know he tried to be gentle. He wasn't big and strong like Helsknight (and probably Welsknight too). He couldn't casually pick up people and carry them around, or throw them over his shoulders. And if Welsknight were conscious enough for a piggy back ride, Tanguish was pretty sure he would just fall over if he tried to take a step. So dragging the knight two dozen blocks to a little hidey hole in the wall was the best, safest, and really only option at his disposal. Once inside, he scurried out to his shulker box, snatched it up, and dropped it in the entrance to the hiding place so anything that might want to come in would have a harder time. He wished there was something useful inside. He had planned on mob proofing while Tango was gone, stringing around glow lichen so his double would have a safer time working on his game. He had a few snacks, some water, and about a stack and a half of lichen left. That was all he'd bothered to bring with him. Now he wished he had brought something actually helpful.
Tanguish weighed his options, staring down at the still unconscious knight. Leaving sprung to his mind first -- Welsknight was reasonably safe now. The chances of something finding him was relatively small, and if he hung up some glow lichen before he left, the light might ward off anything that did notice him. He thought about maybe bringing the knight to hels, where he might find some help. But that help would probably be Helsknight, and he didn't know how much he trusted those two together. He was... Reasonably sure Helsknight wouldn't kill his double while he was unconscious, but he had no idea what he would do when Welsknight woke up. And Welsknight probably wouldn't take kindly to waking up in hels anyway. He could try to get help? Wander around the server just hoping he stumbled upon Tango, alone? No. No he wasn't going to do that.
Tanguish sighed, rolled his eyes at his own powerlessness. After a few more moments of deliberation, he pulled out his water and a few clumps of lichen. He had a half-remembered thought from somewhere that lichen could be medicinal. He had no idea if this lichen was, but he at least knew it was spongy and could hold a bit of water. He made himself a little ball with the stuff, soaked it, and gingerly placed it against the lump on Welsknight's head. He knew his hands would chill it, and frost crept around his fingertips the longer he held his makeshift compress. He pillowed the knight's head in his lap -- it seemed the most comfortable for both of them in the combined space -- and settled in to wait until Tango came back, or Welsknight awoke, and he hoped the knight would either be too incoherent or too grateful to kill him if the waking came first.
Outside his little hideaway, Tanguish listened to the sounds of monsters crawling to life. The tip-tap-skitter of spider legs. The moans and grumbles of the nearly sleepwalking dead. The occasional croaking mutter of an enderman. He didn't hear creepers (He didn't think anyone could hear creepers.) They crept around on quiet claws, a breath of fur and dark, glaring expressions. One snuck up to his hideaway and peered inside, gazing at him with bottomless black eyes. It hissed, smelling or sensing him and trying, vainly, to threaten him. It couldn't come through the wall, and it didn't give off its tell-tale flashing. Tanguish narrowed his eyes at the thing and hissed back, a keening noise that sent a shiver down his spine, and echoed off the walls of his little hideaway like a sculk shrieker. The creeper lurched backward (most natural things feared sculk on an instinctual level) and it scuttled away into the dark. Tanguish snorted in the general direction of the fleeing creature, and looked down at Welsknight. He gently moved his compress, and felt some satisfaction at seeing the swelling had gone down.
"You know, you knights really are strange sometimes," Tanguish informed the unconscious Welsknight, as though he could hear. "All the armor, and the oaths, and reckless danger -- and you're just as mortal as the rest of us." Tanguish leaned his head back against the wall behind him. "Do you have tenets like Helsknight does? Stuff you swore to do? You've got to, right? That's what makes you a knight, instead of just a guy with a sword."
Tanguish's tail twitched thoughtfully. "You and Helsknight feel the same way about technicalities, so you probably can't truly lie. You just dance around the truth a little, like he does. Let people come to their own conclusions... You shouldn't do that."
Tanguish readjusted his compress. "It makes people feel patronized, like you think they're too stupid to figure out what you're saying. And it makes us feel stupid for trusting you. Like on the aqueduct. I didn't really have a choice but... I really did believe I was safe. It was... Cruel... To take that back."
Tanguish felt nervousness reignite in his stomach, a turning and writhing at the danger he was in, implicitly.
"That would be like me waiting for you to wake up, just to hurt you," Tanguish said quietly, his free hand dipping down to the dagger on his hip. The cold metal, the waiting intention the weapon held, felt almost electric and alive against his fingertips. "All this trouble and effort to keep you safe, discarded over something as petty as who the universe likes best." He thought about Helsknight, and the importance he placed on time. "What a terrible waste of time."
Tanguish sighed and studied the ceiling, tracing the textures in the stone overhead with his eyes. He could see the pickaxe marks where Tango had tunneled this out, long gouges and sharp-edged chips.
"I think I understand why he feels the way he does about you. About all of you. You don't understand what you have." Tanguish looked down at the knight, who, despite what had surely been a terrible fall, merely looked like he slept. "It isn't just death that's a mild inconvenience. Everything is. Eternity is sitting in front of you. Even the largest problems, miseries that could span decades, will be nothing in the blink of an eye. There is no such thing as wasted time. There is no discomfort in doing something badly, or even passably. There's just... The endless possibility to try again. Even my saving you right now is, at best, a very odd, kind gesture, because you don't have a limited number of times to come back. There's no fear in the universe deciding this time it will just swallow you. What I'm doing is meaningless, so meaningless it might not even change your opinion of me, unless it's impressive to you that someone who shouldn't have bothered, did. Impressive, and not terribly stupid."
(He was starting to feel terribly stupid, all things considered.)
Movement caught Tanguish's eye, and he sat quietly as some monster or another passed their hiding place, shuffling off in the dark.
"There's no urgency for change." Tanguish whispered. "There's no pressure for legacy. It's like building sand castles in the desert, with no waves to knock them down. There's no reason to find them precious, no urgency to finish before the tide comes, no cherishing the seconds before they're weathered away. They'll just be there tomorrow, or the next time you get around to paying them attention. It's a beautiful gift, and you have no context to appreciate it. I understand why. You've never lived anything different to give you perspective... But I also understand why he hates you for it."
Tanguish blinked out at the world beyond his little keyhole, where danger stalked, undisturbed and wholly uninterested in him.
"No wonder the universe makes us," Tanguish said. "Why else would you have any reason to change?"
Tanguish looked down at Welsknight again. He studied the knight's face, all the things about him that stayed steadfast and unchanging, uncaring that his existence weathered Helsknight away everyday. That he was a wave, and Tanguish and Helsknight and everyone like them were just sand castles waiting.
"You probably won't," Tanguish murmured, "but I hope someday you figure out how to love him. Love the parts of yourself you hate so much right now. Helsknight is terrifying, and overbearing, and too strong for his own good. He walks through the world like he wishes he could bully it into being fair." Tanguish let out a breath. "But he tries so hard to be good, and any goodness I've learned, I think I learned from him. In spite of him. Because of him."
A sadness washed through him then, and Tanguish spoke soberly. "Someday it will be just you and Tango. A month from now. Or a year. Or whatever our lifetimes amount to. When that day comes, I hope you'll look at each other, and somewhere, me and Helsknight will glimpse each other again. I hope whatever the end looks like, it isn't lonely."
Tanguish fell silent, waiting with infinite patience for Welsknight to wake. He must have dozed off, because he roused to the sound of a groan, and Welsknight slowly rolling over to reach the sore spot on the back of his head. Tanguish held his breath. He probably should have figured out what he was going to do when Welsknight woke up. He had no plan, no idea-- hels he was trapped in a confined space with him! Wait -- his coin. Right.
Welsknight's eyes fluttered open. He frowned first in confusion, then recognition, and then Tanguish's coin was in his fist and he was gone.
In hels, Tanguish leaned against the front door of the house, eyes closed, trying to calm his breathing. It really shouldn't be a big deal. Welsknight hadn't even had the time to threaten him. It was just the residual terror of past bad experiences, the adrenaline rush of realizing he was trapped in a room with a tiger. But he was home now, and he shouldn't be afraid -- didn't have to be afraid.
"You're home early," Helsknight said, sounding concerned, and very close by. He must have been writing at the table. In the time Tanguish had been forcing himself to calm, Helsknight stood and cautiously crossed to him. "Did something happen?"
(Did Welsknight happen?)
"N-no," Tanguish said unconvincingly. And further discredited himself by stepping forward, and hugging Helsknight. He could feel Helsknight's concerned frown in his posture, in the slow way he hugged him back, offering confused comfort.
"Are you... sure?"
"Just glad you're still here," Tanguish said.
"Ah." Helsknight hummed, as though he understood. His hug deepened a bit. "Still here. Are you?"
"I think so."
"Good. I guess I'm glad too, then."
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miquella-everywhere · 4 months
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okay but real talk i personally reeeally do not like the evil miquella theories especially the mIqUelLa is gRiFiTh ones i have to roll my eyes 😒
imo it just.,,, completely goes against his character??????
like his whole thing from the very beginning was to cure malenia from her crippling rot and then created a haven for outcasts of the golden order, so he's had nothing but good intentions from the very beginning. and if he were to become evil or some shit out of nowhere, it would be so contradictory to him and what the lore says he stands for and it feels like it would be just a cheap "pull out the rug from under you" moment :/
the one thing that i do like is that yeah, he has compelling powers and uses love to win people over, BUT THAT DOESNT HAVE TO BE A BAD OR EVIL THING????? AND THERES SO MANY PEOPLE THAT SEE IT AS SUCH AND IM JUST LIKE
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and honestly it would be even better for miquellas character if he was acutely aware of his powers to compel affection and he too saw it as a little shmarmy and tried to mitigate his abilities
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and this whole line here makes me firmly believe that miquella, as he is now, does not have a shred those compelling abilities or anything for that matter.
so Miquella literally gave up EVERYTHING to even be able to come to this world of shadow because there is something here that he sees as extremely important for the fate of the world.
Miquella is literally the epitome of a being who is both kind and humble.
And that is what makes Miquellas character so interesting. Because in the context of all the Souls games where ruin and depression is practically the norm, a character that stands for hope and actually has the power/chance to grant hope to the rest of the world is so incredibly special.
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sfehvn · 7 months
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hi hello! saw you had requests open and were looking for some prompts to work on?
i hope you dont mind me sending in one :0
possessive or jealous astarion x reader maybe?
reader is divorced, has been for a while, but their ex and them are still good friends. it was a mutual, respectful separation, because the two had different life plans after being together for some time. ex is a great person with a kind heart (and js brilliant artificer or inventor maybe?) and decided to visit reader some time after the game. nothing nefarious, just some nice catching up with one of their closest friends.
just want a lil astarion jealousy here. how reader reacts is up to you. itd be fun if they just roll their eyes but indulge his possessive behavior a tad.
no need to follow everything to a T of course.
other reasons the ex could be visiting (if theyre an artificer or inventor) is because reader commissioned them for a ring or jewelry or something that lets astarion walk under the sun. fun ideas there where astarion sees the ex hand reader a ring, is almost heartbroken, but it turns out reader got the ring for him was gonna propose or something (ring lets vampires walk under the sun). some angst there wahaha
im so sorry this is so long, i had multiple ideas i wanted to offer but didnt wanna flood you.
i understand if you dont wanna work on this (these?). its still just a joy to share these. thanks!
green eyed devil
A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,290 Characters: Astarion x Tav
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━─━────༺༻────━─━
  In the months following the removal of your unwanted little brain passengers you and Astarion had been tirelessly in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. As much as you tried to discourage his masking, there were many mornings you woke to see your lover longingly staring at the covered windows surrounding your bed. Astarion would play it off cooly once the realization he’d been caught dawned on him, but he knew as well as you the agony that hid behind ruby-red eyes. The remorse ate him alive as the color in your own skin began to fade from your previously sunkissed appearance to reflect that of paleness. It stilled in comparison to his, but it was a constant reminder of the fact that, in his judgment, he’d doomed you to a life in the shadows.
  You held him close to your chest and the sound of your beating heart against his ear prompted a moment of weakness. “I feel like I’m destroying you.” His words were a shutter as they left his mouth. You place a small hand on his cold cheek at the sudden confession, commending him to look up at you.
  It was unspoken. You needed no words to tell you how sun-starved you had become and you vaguely recalled the last time you had gone out while it was still beaming. “Hey, I’m alright. We’re making decent progress and have more than a few promising leads. I’m not the slightest worried about it.” Even your reassuring smile and soothing words couldn’t placate the shame he felt.
  “Would you go for a walk at least? You thrive in the sun and instead you’re cooped up in this little room with me until sundown, darling.” You let out a sigh of disapproval and before you can argue the suggestion, he continues. “Do it for me. I can’t bear seeing you like this.” Astarion knew without a shred of doubt that one day you’d grow tired of skulking in the dark with him, given a cure was never found. He’d do everything he could to make sure it never happened. If it did, though, Astarion believed he’d have no reason to continue his miserable existence.
  After a few beats of silence, you finally nod. The look on his face was enough to tell you there was no use arguing the matter away. Evidently, this was important to him, so you sat and readied to do what he could not, what he wanted so desperately: to bathe in the rays of daylight. 
-
  You trudged about the city with no end in mind. Feeling the warmth of sunshine on your skin was a welcome change, and you soaked up the sensation eagerly. There was heavy remorse weighing in your chest at the thought of not being able to share this feeling with your lover all the while. You’re stopped in your tracks at the familiar face before you. “Tav! Well, you’re looking worse for wear.” The man teased. You grinned widely and wrapped your arms around him in a chaste embrace.
“I would say your words hurt, but it is a testament to your honesty, I suppose.” You quipped and stepped back to get a good look at him. It had been a lengthy amount of time since you had last seen him. You recall the last time you had been in each other’s company was when you had attended his wedding to his new wife, a lovely half-elf you had regularly messaged with. From said messages, you knew they had just welcomed a new addition to his family, and you felt great pride in the man he had become. While, yes, you had once shared a bed and a last name, it felt like a lifetime away.
  “You look well, Conrad. It seems fatherhood suits you well.” He did indeed look great, not a day older than when you had last seen him despite the years passed. Black hair that somehow always looked tousled and neat at the same time, bright green eyes with no darkness marring under them, and he’d taken to toning his physique since you’d been with him, ostensibly.
  You were both far too young when you had made the rash decision of running off and eloping together. Just as hastily as you two had agreed to spend the rest of your lives together, things had begun falling apart. Conrad wanted to settle and start creating a family as quickly as possible, while you were keen just the way you were. You were confident you never wanted children to begin with. Though your thoughts on the matter have recently changed, it is a testament that finding the right person has shown you things you weren’t even aware of about yourself before. 
  “Despite the lack of sleep, we can agree on that.” Conrad chortles gleefully, motioning you to follow him to a nearby bench. Once seated, he turns his body to face you. “You are a tough one to find, my friend. Amira told me you have been holed up in Elfsong for a while, and it was still much like digging through a needle in a haystack. The same old adventurer, hm?” He questions fondly, recalling your nature without abandon.
  “You could say that.” You shrugged casually. Your head quirks as if a thought just popped into your mind. “Why are you back in Baldur’s Gate? You should be home tending to Amira.” You think back to her last letter, detailing the struggles she had been having caring for their new babe. Conrad was a journey away.
  “I am here at her request.” He corrects with a wave of his hand. “It seems you and Astarion have troubled her heart with your story. She can’t stand the thought of two people so in love plagued by such great hardship. Ever the romantic she is.” You smile sadly as you remember your lover confined to the inn's room. He holds up a finger, beckoning your brow to crease as he dug into the pockets of his robe. A quiet ‘aha’ emerged as he seemingly located what he sought. He outstretched his hand to you, a simple silver-banded ring held between his fingertips. “It’s not the cure, of course. At the very least, your search won’t have to be restricted during daylight hours.” 
Your breath catches in your throat as you bite back tears at the kind gesture. “Conrad, I can’t believe this.” You whisper as he drops the ring into your palm. The magic-infused band feels almost as if it hums against your hand.
“Ring of the sunwalker. I must say, it was one of the most challenging feats I’ve committed to.” Conrad muses, clearly proud of his work. You had been in search of one to gift to Astarion but they were impossible to stumble upon and even more impossible to find an artificer who was skilled enough to conjure one up. You clinch the ring in your fist and pull the man into a tight hug, painfully aware of the tears that assaulted his robe.
  “Thank you, Conrad. I don’t know how to repay you or Amira for this kindness.” Your words were earnest, and you dab under your wet eyes.
  “No repayment necessary, Tav. You’re family to us. It pains us to know you’re in such a tight predicament. However, a visit once you and your other half are ready would be welcomed. Got to lay the law out and let this vampire know who he’ll have on his tail if he ever hurts you.” His teasing cadence elicited a laugh from you, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own.
  You two chat for a while longer before bidding goodbye to one another. “Just make sure that gets put to use, Tav. You look like you haven’t had a drop of sunlight in your life.” You reassure that you will with a broad smile.
  The walk back to the inn is painstakingly long given how eager you were to present Astarion with his new ring. The image of your lover once again bathed in sunlight made your heart swoon. When opening the room’s door you can hardly contain the excited smile on your lips. Astarion was unmoving on the bed, trying to slip into a meditative state when you entered the room.
  “The sun is still up, my darling—plenty of fun to be had out there.” There was feigned annoyance in his words but in reality, he was contented to have you back where he knew you were safe. There was something off, though. Astarion pushes himself onto his elbows and stares at you with narrowed eyes. The look made your breathing hitch, your smile faltering the slightest bit.
  Within a second, he’s in front of you, faces a mere inch apart. “What’s wrong?” You asked carefully, hand instinctively reaching for the ring in your pocket. You twiddle your fingers around it but hesitate to pull it out.
  “You reek.” He deadpans, inspecting your body as if searching for a physical sign you’d been laid up with another man. 
  “Well, that’s kind of rude.” You joked, but the silence that followed told you there was more to it than he’d let on.
  “You reek of another, my dear.” His words dripped with condescension, and you let out a chuckle, ready to explain away his worries.
  “Oh no, that’s just Conrad. He actually-” Before you could say anything more, you were pressed firmly between the solid oak door behind you and Astarion’s firm chest. He looks down on you, and you can’t discern if his red eyes radiate that of rage or lust. Perhaps both.
  “Your ex-husband. I leave you alone for all but a few hours, and you find your way into another man’s arms?” Accusatory words were whispered into your ear, the sensation of his soft lips tickling the sensitive skin. His fingertips firmly planted into your hip as he led you to the bed, pressing you roughly to the soft comforter you two had spent so many days wrapped up in one another atop. His greedy hands expertly flip you over. Your ass stood in attention before him, and he worked the skirt of your dress up until it pooled around your chest.
  Before you could comprehend his jealous fit, your underwear was ripped from your body, and his hard cock was buried deeply inside of you. You let out a moan at the sensation of him filling you. His hand slid up your back until it reached the back of your head, taking a fistful of your long hair into his palm as he plowed into you, hips slamming loudly against your skin throughout the otherwise quiet room—your back arches as you allowed him to take you. Your eyes rolled back, and you grasped the sheets tightly in your own hands.
  Astarion had become increasingly possessive of you since the Mindflayer incident came to a close. Still, you’d never put him in a position to react so passionately to any jealousy he may have felt. When his hand wrapped around you to make contact with your clit, you knew you were putty in this man’s hands. He rubbed slowly and firmly, his other hand still in your hair. You cried out in pleasure, everything in your mind melting away as he fucked you into the bed.
  “Bet Conrad never fucked you with such tenacity, hm, darling?” His words were confident, fastening his pace as he failed to receive an answer, a silent reminder that he expected a response from those pretty little lips.
  “N-never.” You stutter feeling winded from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.
  “Good girl.” He grunted in response, finding a smoother pace. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with how your drenched core gripped his cock, and his fingers continued their attention over your sensitive clit. “You’re mine. Understand?”
  You nod numbly as stars flood your vision, crying out with the orgasm that electrified your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.” His words came from gritted teeth, and you obliged, the words falling from your mouth causing him to reach his completion, his seed filling you full. As he shifts to lay beside you, he looks at you with darkened eyes. “Why were you with him?” There was no hiding the distaste in his voice.
  “Before you so rudely, but pleasurably, interrupted me, I was going to explain that to you.” You hummed teasingly, sitting up beside him. Your dress rested around your knees as you did so and you reached for the ring in your pocket. You offered it out to him and you didn’t have to speak a word for him to know what possibilities the simple-looking ring possessed. 
  He slipped it onto his finger and stood from the bed. He walked to the covered window and pushed the curtains aside. There he stood in all his glory, the sun's rays illuminated against his pale skin. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting out the faintest cry of satisfaction at the warmth he had so longed to feel again. You move to stand behind him, your arms wrapped around his waist. Your forehead rests against his back, and a content smile plays on your mouth. “You thrive in the sun, too.” You pointed out softly.
  “Perhaps I owe that artificer a thank you. His scent on you tells me he touched you one too many times, though. That said, I will not like it. And I will not like him.” You knew Astarion would never accept Conrad as a friend due to his possessiveness, but you knew he was thankful. That was a step in the right direction at the least.
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empressofthesunwriter · 2 months
Text
Change the Narrative
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If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.
But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!
This time she would always choose herself first!
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Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.
I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!
Katara knew it was time for her to die.
She felt it in her old bones.
Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.
At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.
It was a good death.
The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.
She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.
It was good.
She had lived a long happy life.
Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.
Was it a happy life?
How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?
How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.
But no!
The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.
Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.
Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?
However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.
He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.
They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.
And she did so to her children.
No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.
Where did she go wrong in her life?
When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?
Why did she even choose Aang?
Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?
He loved her and had ended the war.
Was it so bad to give him a chance?
Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.
Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?
She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.
Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.
She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.
Soon she would join her loved ones...
Just...
If she could...
If the spirits were so kind...
If dear Yue heard her...
She wanted a second chance.
She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.
Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?
Was she selfish?
Maybe.
Surely.
But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.
Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.
Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.
Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...
***
She felt pain in her head.
Katara hissed and touched her forehead.
Why did she get a headache?
Where was she?
She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.
Slowly she could see.
Ah yes.
She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.
The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.
It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.
She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?
He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.
As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.
Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.
It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!
No, she didn't want what she had seen.
How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!
How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!
No, absolutely not!
Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!
So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.
The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.
For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.
Oh no!
Not with her!
"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"
To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.
"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"
Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.
The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.
She sends them all an annoyed look.
"What?!"
No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."
This makes Katara smile.
***
The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 
The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.
As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.
She was a force of nature!
No one had a chance against her.
Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.
Yes, this was where she belonged.
Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!
Katara was happy.
A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.
***
A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.
She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.
He had become her best friend.
And her wall against Aang.
As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.
She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.
Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.
When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.
Awkwardly he waved it away.
It was nothing.
He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.
Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.
In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.
If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?
A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.
Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.
***
Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.
They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.
It changed a lot of interactions.
They were playful with each other.
Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.
They were there for each other.
In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.
They shared the workload.
It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.
They were getting closer to each other.
They shared things they never told anyone.
Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.
Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!
Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.
Something new was born between them.
Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.
It made her feel good.
After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.
And also a society of hiding airbenders.
Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.
***
Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?
When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 
Warm, welcome, familair, intim.
It was the best sensation in the world.
Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.
After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.
All their friends and half of the world were invited.
Yes, even Aang.
Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.
Now they really could be friends.
***
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.
Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.
She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.
She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.
She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.
Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.
Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.
When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.
They often had visits from their friends and families.
Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.
So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.
It was fulfilling.
As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.
Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.
After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.
Zuko died a few months before her.
Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.
Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.
As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.
She had lived a long and wonderful life.
Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.
And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.
***
The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.
From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.
It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.
They could reach their goals and go even beyond.
This was Katara's legacy.
As it should have been.
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If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 
Click on my profile and leave a comment.
I hope you liked this little One-Shot!
Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D
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sundeathh · 1 year
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Just three words. ✨ Soft Yandere Aizawa✨
Okay, this one was in my inbox for a very long time. So first of all, sorry for the long delay. Second: before proceeding, please read what I want to tell you: I am not particularly into Yandere narratives. Besides, I had trouble picturing Aizawa's character in this specific scenario because I don't see his character as one that would act as a Yandere. So, I am sorry if this sucks or if it isn't exactly what you asked for. I tried my best to place him into a Yandere narrative without losing his character essence.
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Masterlist | NSFW / + 18 only
Pairing: Aizawa × Reader | Words: 2 K
Tags: SFW/NSFW, soft Yandere themes, headcanon.
cw: Stockholm syndrome.
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- SFW part -
You caught Aizawa's attention with your unique and powerful quirk. Aizawa becomes fascinated by your abilities as a vigilante and sees your true potential as a hero.
During his patrols, he would frequently encounter you, your paths occasionally crossing as you both maintained the peace and protected others. Aizawa's initial interest in you is sparked mainly by your skill and dedication, further developing into a genuine admiration for your abilities.
His fascination with you would grow more over time, and as an expert in stealth and surveillance, he would subtly observe you from a distance. He would track your routine and patrols, skillfully remaining undetected in the shadows. 
Though he kept telling himself that he would meet with you "occasionally," his true intention was to keep a close eye on you, gaining further insight into your personality, strengths, and weaknesses.
And on a fateful day, a villain attack left your quirk temporarily weakened, rendering you vulnerable and unable to defend yourself effectively. So, Aizawa doesn't think twice before intervening, saving you from further harm.
Recognizing your injuries and weakened state, he would then convince you to seek refuge and protection with him, assuring you that he would take care of your wounds.
This accident catalyzes his plan to keep you close. He didn't even need to kidnap you! But, if you had not suffered the attack, though, maybe he would fake one anyway. He would be subtle. 
Once you were in Aizawa's custody, he would treat you with surprising gentleness, providing genuine care and ensuring your well-being. He understands the importance of earning your trust and making you feel safe in his presence. 
So, he would never restrain you. Instead, Aizawa would keep you locked in a comfortable space, his actions driven by his desire to gain your trust and affection. He is cautious not to cause you unnecessary harm or distress.
However, you would inevitably become resistant to the situation, yearning for freedom and wary of Aizawa's motives.
And he would try his best to respect your boundaries and acknowledge your desire to escape, but he would maintain a firm stance in preventing your departure. 
He would make you stay through subtle manipulation and persuasive tactics. He would never use aggressive force, even if you tried to escape aggressively.
He would only erase your quirk and evade your attacks until you were tired of fighting but would never attack you back.
Aizawa would constantly try to balance his desires toward you and your autonomy.
And as time passed, Aizawa's genuine care and occasional displays of vulnerability created a complicated mix of emotions within you. While you may not fully reciprocate his feelings, you begin to recognize a genuine connection and understanding with him.
But tension would inevitably rise as your desire for freedom clashes with Aizawa's determination to keep you close. Anyway, he continues to demonstrate acts of kindness and understanding even when you call him names or tries to attack, only to be left tired again without causing him any scratch.
As he pursues your affection, Aizawa may go out of his way to fulfill your needs and show you a softer side. He would attempt to break down your resistance through carefully thought acts of kindness.
He pays attention to the more discreet details, providing you with your favorite meals, engaging you in conversations about your interests, and even bringing you books or movies you might enjoy; Though these gestures are not grandiose, they display subtle moments of care that eventually begin to form a foundation of trust.
With gestures and conversations, Aizawa allows glimpses of his softer side to shine: During quiet evenings together, he shares stories from his past, revealing vulnerabilities and personal struggles he faced.
He would try to create a space where you felt safe to open up, fostering an environment of mutual understanding and empathy. He would encourage you to voice out your worries and distresses, even though he would get quiet and avoid the topic of letting you go.
Over time, he aimed to create an emotional bond based on trust and shared experiences. Through acts of gentleness and patience, he hoped to impress you and demonstrate his capabilities as a protector and a provider.
Aizawa is patient and aware that your journey toward reciprocating his feelings will take time. He also recognizes the importance of granting you space for self-reflection and growth. So he would do everything you asked: leave you alone, bring you some specific food, not talk to you, or to talk to you, tell you a story, listen to you, anything, except for letting you out.
However, Aizawa is not without his internal struggles. He battles with his conscience, questioning the ethics of his actions. He grapples with the conflict between his genuine care for you; and the fact that your relationship began under non-consensual circumstances.
The turning point in your relationship arrives when you start to see glimpses of Aizawa's vulnerability: He shares his fears, his insecurities, and his past failures, exposing his humanity and flaws.
And it is through these shared vulnerabilities you begin to connect with Aizawa on a deeper level, seeing him as more than just your captor but as a complex individual with genuine emotions.
And as your bond deepens, Aizawa becomes even more attuned to your emotional shifts and moods. He learns to anticipate your needs and provide stability and support. During moments of vulnerability or distress, he offers a comforting presence – allowing you to lean on him for solace and reassurance.
Gradually, your resistance toward him begins to wane, replaced by a complex mix of emotions. You may find yourself drawn to Aizawa's unwavering dedication to making you comfortable and cared for, seeing how the genuine connection you have developed over time.
However, remnants of your initial resistance may linger, reminding you of the complex dynamics that brought you together. Anyway, Aizawa remains committed to maintaining a delicate balance. He respects your autonomy and your desire for freedom, yet he also nurtures your affection for him.
- NSFW part -
He would never sexually touch you without your consent. However, he would indeed stare at you intensely sometimes, but he wouldn't do more than that. And, when you would catch a sigh of him ogling your body, he would immediately turn his vision away with his face bright red. 
He admires your body with great appreciation. He would not comment on that for fear of making you uncomfortable, but he frequently wondered what you had under the clothes he provided to you;
He often imagined what it would feel like beneath all those clothes, the skin underneath, and the curve of your waist. His body would ache from wanting more than just that sight.
While he would not allow physical contact, he would fantasize about being able to explore every inch of your body. And so, he would always find ways to sneak glances or peek inside your room.
His mind would wander as he envisioned you naked and spread open for his perusal, feeling aroused at the possibility that he could possess you, even if you weren't aware of it.
In those fantasies, he would gently caress the parts of your body he desired most. Carefully, he would trace each contour, savoring the sensation of feeling your softness in his palms, tracing circles against your inner thighs, lingering over your stomach, chest, and shoulders. 
His imagination would then drift off, imagining scenarios where you would finally allow him access to pleasure, and make him feel complete, finally satisfied, leaving him weak and limp.
He often fantasizes about you having sex with him, giving yourself freely as you would take his hands in yours, guiding him through your soft body, kissing him with passion;
When your lips parted, he would eagerly follow you until he could kiss you again. And, when finished, he would pull you into his arms, burying his face into your neck, breathing deeply in your scent.
Then, when you finally started to see him beyond your captor, he would always be surprised by any small show of affection coming from you. For example, he would be speechless if you gave him a simple peck on the cheek. 
Or, when you started to smile at him, he would be ecstatic. Sometimes, you would give him a pat on the arm; or maybe a rub on the back when he would open up to you.
And once you saw past his walls and started to develop a mix of feelings toward him: he could tell. You would smile more and look at him differently.
Sometimes he would look at you and smile, knowing that you were starting to have feelings for him because you were changing. 
You would not flinch away when he would touch your hand anymore and wouldn't mind if he sat close to you. Sometimes, you would even lean against him when he was around. 
The first time you kissed him on the lips was when he was upset with you for wanting your freedom. It was sweet and passionate, conveying a sense of safety and warmth. You wanted him to know that you did want to be free, but you weren't sure if you wanted to leave him anymore. You had started to find comfort in your surroundings while living with Aizawa. 
And as time passed, you eventually realized how attractive he seemed to you. You noticed his sharp features, his sharp gaze, his hair, and the curves of his toned body. 
You became fascinated with how his eyes would light up when he talked with you. And then, you would find yourself leaning closer, wanting more. 
You also got bolder, teasing him as you explore your new boundaries. Your physical intimacy drastically improved as you opened up and trusted him more. He then started taking risks, going further, initiating physical contact, and exploring those new boundaries.
In turn, you enjoyed the new closeness that came with a change in atmosphere, a strange yet good feeling of security and belonging.
It was this sense of closeness that prompted you both into the process of bonding. You slowly became more intimate, and it started to feel natural for the two of you.
One day, when you were enjoying a peaceful evening together, he reached behind you and gently started playing with your strands of hair as you rested your head in his lap. 
As he played with them, he brushed against your ear, throat, and collarbone. Then, he stopped. He let out a frustrated sigh before pulling you close and planting small kisses over your cheeks, chin, brow, eyelids, nose, forehead, and mouth. And then you were lost in an instant of pure bliss.
You couldn't remember exactly when it happened. All you knew was that you had only a few moments of clarity and could see what was happening, feeling the heat rising within you.
He would always ask you if he should stop or ask for permission to go further whenever you flinched. But you rarely did that, so he would continue doing whatever pleased the both of you.
He would gently massage your shoulder blades and back. His hands would then hold onto your waist. Sometimes, you would feel his lips on your neck, trailing down, sucking on the sensitive skin, and leaving tiny hickeys.
He liked to mark you, but he would be gentle on how he would do it. He'd start with tiny nips and suckles, then gradually go down until he got close to where he wanted most.
Afterward, he would kiss you harder and deeper, trying and succeeding in eliciting a good reaction from you. The longer he would go on, the hotter you would get.
As time progressed and you became really intimate, he would fuck you with no shame, giving you more pleasure than ever before until you moaned his name. You would gasp and squirm, and he would always ensure you climaxed every. Single. Time.
He would shiver every time he heard you moan his name. He didn't know why, but it always caused a deep excitement in his chest and heart.
He would come undone in seconds as you called out his name. And then he would hold you tight, whispering soothing words as you continued gasping and moaning in delight for a while after.
Eventually, you started to love that sound and how he felt pleasure from just your touch and noises.
And soon, you realized that nothing would prevent you from loving him back.
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ur-local-anti-hero · 1 month
Text
Dear John
Regulus Black x Reader
Summary: Maybe you should have listened to your best friend's warning about Regulus, you didn't. Now you just have to deal with the consequences.
Genre: Angst
CW: Intimidation, angst, pureblood's ideology, toxic family dynamics
Word count: 1.6K
This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' version) collection.
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“Maybe it's you and your sick need. To give love then take it away
And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors, Who don't understand
And I'll look back and regret I ignored when they said, "Run as fast as you can"
You wished you had listened. The argument you had with Sirius when he learned you were dating his brother was being replayed in your head while you ran towards your boyfriend’s room. 
“He’s going to ruin you, you don’t know him like I do.” Sirius had said, voice low with anger and worry. “The moment my mother hears about you two it’s over.” 
“You’re the one that doesn’t know him!” It had angered you, Sirius assuming that Regulus’ love for you was fragile. “I really love him, and he loves me. End of discussion.” 
“You don’t understand what you’re getting into. My brother would never prioritize you over our mother. and she’s never going to accept a Gryffinfor Muggleborn as a suitable partner for Regulus” 
You knew he was right, but some part of you naively thought that Regulus truly loved you.
“I’m saying this because I care about you. You should leave while you can” you could tell Sirius was worried and meant no harm, but that argument ended your friendship with the oldest Black brother. 
That was almost a year ago, you used to have a close friendship with him, but now he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You refused to break up with Regulus, and you really thought you were doing the right thing. Regulus had shown you every part of him, you knew about his family and all the things he had done and regretted. But you also knew about the caring, loving and kind person he was. 
Even when the war was starting to become more and more imminent as the dark lord and deatheaters won power and followers, he never showed any interest in joining into the dark lord’s lines. The abuse and intimidation became worse and worse for mugglerborns who had the bad luck of running into slytherings in the hallways. 
Regulus was very aware of it, he became like your shadow, never leaving your side until curfew forced him to. And he was the first to greet you every morning, waiting for you outside your house’s common room. 
At least it was like this before Christmas break. It had been a week since you come back from the break and Regulus was acting weird, at first you thought it was because he had to adapt again to Hogwarts - It took him some time to come back to his normal self ater staying in his house - but after a week of almost no contact with him you became worried. 
On your way to the dungeons you ran into Snape and Evan. You had tried to avoid them, head low and pace hurried, but it seemed like they had a special radar to spot possible victims for their tortures and mocking. They blocked your path, you were cornered against a wall as they got closer than it was safe. 
“Look who is here” Evan had teased you, his wand pointing at your face. “Regulus’ little pet”
“Why are you separated from your guardian dog?” Snape taunted you. “Has he finally realized that he’s got more important things to do rather than take care of a filthy mudblood?” 
You didn’t like a bit where the situation was going, you had tried to reach your wand, but Snape had noticed and raised his wand at you. 
“Don’t even think about it” 
“You know, Snape? I’m curious.” He hadn’t stopped looking at you. “What are you doing here, there’s no way you’re going to see Regulus right?”  
He knew exactly that it was the only reason you would ever step into the dungeons. His face turned into a look of fake pity. 
“Oh. Poor little thing, he hasn’t told you has he?” Evan was mocking you, playing with your psyche as all slytherings liked to, still his next words made your blood run cold. “He’s become the new right-hand for the dark lord. As he ought to, at the end of the day he’s a Black.” 
That’s when you started running, Snape and Evan probably tought it was enough torture to mess with your head and they let you pass them by without much hussle. 
And you ran all the way to the Slythering common room. Usually you wouldn’t dare to enter alone, but you needed to see Regulus. You didn’t want to believe Evan’s words, ‘He’s probably trying to confuse you, make you confront Regulus and cause an argument’. You were trying to convince yourself, but you couldn’t deny that the possibility was there. 
You made it to Regulus’ dorm, without even knocking you entered. Inside Regulus was laying in his bed, Barty was in one of the desks, working on homework, or a plan to destroy civilization. You didnt really care, all you could focus on was Reg. 
“Regulus” your voice didn’t feel like yourself, it was void of any emotion other than obvious tiredness from your running. 
Regulus jolted out of bed when he heard you. Barty turned around and his lips morphed into a teasing smirk. 
“Oh well, look who’s here -” “Leave, now.” Barty was cut short by Regulus’ demand, for a second you thought he was talking to you, but he was facing Barty. 
“okay, okay. No need to get aggressive…” Barty said before getting up from the chair. He walked past you, didn’t even acknowledge your presence, and closed the door behind him. 
───✥───
Regulus knew this was coming, there was no way you wouldn’t notice his absence or avoid entirely the rumors of the new deatheater in Hogwarts. He just wished it didn’t have to be this way. He coudn’t face you, from the start you and him were on opposite sides of the war, but he getting the mark was what made it definite. 
“Reg-” “What do you want?”
 Regulus’ voice was icy, not a single emotion in it. He saw you flinch at his tone. He never talked to you like that, his tone was always sweet and words picked with care whenever he referred to you. His change in demeanour angered and saddened you, he could tell. 
“Are you really asking me what I want?” your tone was colder now, you stepped closer with each word. “I’ve barely seen you for a week, and the moment I step into the dungeons the first thing I hear is that you’re the new right-hand for the dark lord. Please, tell me it’s not true”  
He could hear your voice crack and your waterline become wet with unsed tears. He knew you so well, he knew you were not going to cry, he knew you would give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out. He knew that if he would tell you the truth, how he was forced and tortured to take the mark, you would understand, try to find a way to help and stand by his side. 
“It’s true” 
And he couldn’t allow that. If he were to let you in again, he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do. End things, for your sake. 
“You’re lying to me, this is all a big joke, it has to be” you cried. 
He didn’t reply, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. At his silence you reached for his sleeve, pulling it up. He didn’t even flinch, and he let you stare at his bare arm. Well, not bare, as the deatheater mark was there, taking up half of his arm. 
You dropped his arm and stared at him in absolute shock. He didn’t say anything, that was angered the most, how he was not even able to say anything. 
“You didn’t want to, right?” he stayed silent “Please, say something” you implored. 
“It's my duty, it’s what 's right.” he deadpanned. 
You chuckled humorlessly “What’s right? That 's right? You’re joining a pureblood supremacist cult, there’s nothing right about it!”  
“And what about us, do I mean that little to you? Does our relationship mean anything at all to you?”  you said in a softer tone. 
“No. It was a mistake, from the start. I shouldn’t have dated a mudblood” Regulus had to make an enormous effort to not flinch at his own words. But this would make you leave, it had to. 
You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, but the heartbreak you were feeling was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Regulus had been able to make you feel special, loved for almost two years. He held your heart in his hands and treated it with care, now he was ripping it and giving back to you. 
He didn’t want to fight for your love and you were not going to beg anymore. 
“You’re right. It’s funny, really, Sirius warned me this would happen, but I was too blinded to see that he was right” bringing up Sirius was a low blow, you knew how much he meant for Regulus. But at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel the same heartbreak you were feeling. 
“At the end of the day you’re a Black.” You repeated the same words Evan had said to you on your way to the dungeons. 
Regulus just stood there and nodded. You left his room, clearly distressed and crying. Regulus’ heart was shattered beyond repair. However, this was the best option. He would rather see you leaving, crying and heartbroken for the last time in his life, than lying on the floor lifeslessly as his family had promised if he didn’t leave you and took the mark. 
At the end of the day he was really just a Black, it was the family he was born to and the family he’ll die for. 
Author's note: this one is so sad, I'm sorry Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
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uollop · 1 year
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Pearlescent (Mer!Vash x Reader pt. 1)
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Content: Mermaid Vash, GN! Reader, oceans (ofc), deep water, lifeguard reader, reader is ticklish
Word count: 2.3k
Notes: Happy MerMay! Mermaid AU won the poll pretty easily, so here it is! I hope you all enjoy it :))
Next Part
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Vash had always been curious about humans, but his brother has always attempted to dissuade him from investigating them "for his own safety".
Knives would tell him stories about humans and the cruel things that they would do, but the tales didn't do much to satiate Vash's curiosity.
He would people-watch often, lurking in water that was likely too close to the shore for Knives' liking, simply watching the humans swim and talk and play. Watching them walk around on the beach had him wondering what it would feel like to walk with them. What the sand would feel like as he moved across the warm dunes.
He knew it was impossible, though. His tail prevented him from being able to enjoy nearly all of the activities that he was desiring to join in on.
It was getting late today, most of the humans had already left the water because of the chill in the air settling into the sea. Only a few remained on the sand, packing up their belongings to leave. He continued to watch, wondering where they went when they weren't at the beach. He was watching so intently that he didn't realize someone paddling over to him on a surfboard.
"Do you need help getting to the shore? It's getting cold, if you stay in the water any longer you'll get sick." When you spoke, you nearly scared the poor fish right out of his scales. Most humans ignored him during the day, but it seems he outstayed his welcome.
He recognized you. You were always sitting up high above the others, watching them during the day and occasionally blowing some kind of mechanism at them if they misbehaved. You were obviously some kind of an important person, seeing as they listened to you and that you were seated higher than the rest of them. Were you one of those royals that he had heard about in Nai's stories? He had been told about how cruel the Kings and Queens of the humans could be, but you seemed to hold a kindness behind your eyes that calmed his worries a bit.
"You've been in the water nearly all day," you laugh nervously at the lack of a response as you hold your hand out for him, "aren't you tired?"
He slowly blinked at you, a bit confused, before shaking his head, lowering himself deeper into the water so that it was only his blue eyes poking out. You watched him with curiosity before he suddenly dove under the water, splashing you a bit with the cold water as he swam away. Your eyes widened as he disappeared, cursing to yourself as you stared into the dark water. You waited a bit for him to come back up before you started to grow worried.
You slowly climbed off your board, allowing yourself to sink into the freezing water, goosebumps popping up across your skin as you tried to look into the water without fully submerging yourself. You couldn't even make out his shape anymore. You started to worry more, dipping your head under the water and opening your eyes, looking around. The salt of the water burned your eyes as you swam deeper, looking around for the blond.
It was so dark in the water that you could barely see anything that wasn't directly in front of you, but you managed to make out a silhouette deeper in the water. You swam towards it, reaching a hand towards the shadow before it swam further away. You narrowed your eyes and continued to swim after it, sure that it was the strange man that had been sitting in the ocean all day, watching people on the beach.
You had noticed him a few weeks ago. He came nearly every day, but you never saw him get into the water. He would always mysteriously appear in the part of the water that was too deep for most humans to swim comfortably, but he never seemed to mind. You were curious about him and, when you noticed he was the only one still in the water despite the bite in the air, you decided to go check on him.
His silence at your offer to help him towards the beach had concerned you a bit and, now, your concern got worse. You were starting to run out of air, but the shadow kept going deeper. As much as you wanted to keep following him, the stinging feeling in your lungs was enough to convince you to swim back towards the surface.
When you broke, you gasped, allowing air to fill your aching lungs as you coughed and rubbed your sore eyes. You were a trained lifeguard and he had been able to stay under much longer than you. You looked around the surface of the water, trying to see if he had surfaced while you were swimming back up, but you couldn't see him anywhere.
Panic continued to settle on your skin at the eerily quiet scene. The only movement in the water appeared to be your own as you frantically scanned the sea. You took a deep breath before dunking your head back under the water, almost screaming when you opened your eyes and you're met with bright blue eyes inches away from your face. You narrow your eyes at him and reach out to grab his arm before you realize something was off.
The first thing you see are the scars littered across his body. It was difficult to find a patch of skin that wasn't darkened by a slash or a stitch. There was also a concerning absence of a left arm, a short nub replacing where it should be.
You continue to glance down and notice something slightly more worrying. Instead of legs, he had a long... fish tail? You couldn't make it out well due to the pitch darkness that surrounded you both, but you were certain that you knew what legs looked like, and that thing definitely was not a pair of legs.
You reached out and grabbed his arm gently before allowing yourself to pop above the surface again, gasping for air and pulling him towards your surfboard. You released his arm once he surfaced, his scarred hand placing itself onto your surfboard. You reached towards the board and pulled yourself onto it, shuddering at the feeling of the cold air before looking back at him.
"You..." you trailed off as you stared at him, unsure if what you saw was real, "you aren't human, are you?"
He continues to stare at you, unspeaking before making a quiet chirping noise. You continue to stare at him in awe before shaking your head.
"Ok, um. I guess you're okay to stay in the water then... My shift is almost over, so I, uh..." You looked at him again before moving into a position that would allow you to paddle away easily. "I hope you have a good night. I assume you'll be here again tomorrow?" You ask cautiously before he nods and gives you a wide smile, showing off rows and rows of pointy teeth. It was almost cute. Mostly scary, but almost cute.
You slowly started to make your way back to the shore, occasionally glancing back at him. Every time you checked, it seemed like he wasn't getting any further away. Maybe he was even getting closer. Was he following you? You kept paddling, unsure if you were imagining things until you eventually made it to the shore and pulled your board out of the water. You turned towards him and see that he had pulled himself onto a nearby rock, his eyes still watching you.
Your eyes flicker down towards where his legs should be, your breath hitching as you get a better view of his tail. A long fish tail, covered in red and turquoise scales shimmered in the moonlight. You definitely hadn't seen it wrong; he was a merman.
You silently stare at his tail for a few more moments before you hear another chirping noise. You look up and see him patting the spot next to him on the flat rock. It takes you a moment to realize he wants you to sit with him, a patient look on his face as he taps his hand against the rock again.
You walk up to him and sit on the rock with him, a happy sounding noise coming from him as he immediately grabs your leg, causing you to yelp in surprise as your back hits the cold surface of the rock.
He examines your leg, a curious and excited look on his face as he squeezes your skin, stretching your leg out for a moment and then bending it at your knee, an amused chirp coming from him as he continues to move your leg back and forth.
You're confused at first before you realize that he doesn't have legs and that he probably isn't used to seeing them this close. You let him continue, until his hand brushes the underside of your foot, causing you to jolt and let out a stifled laugh.
He notices your reaction and repeats his movement, a large smile on his face. You laugh again, attempting to pull your leg away from him, but his grip is strong. He continues to touch along different parts of your leg and foot, smiling to himself.
Eventually he releases your leg and, for a moment, you thought it was over, until he suddenly grabbed your other leg, lifting it was well and playing with it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was as if he hadn't just played with a nearly identical one, but you allowed him to examine your leg for as long as he would like. He doesn't mess with this one for as long, his curiosity satisfied as he places his hand on his lap, looking at you for another moment before giving you a gentle wave.
You wave back at him, unsure of what to say or do at this point. He seemed friendly, despite his sharp teeth. You stared at him for another moment before he made another high-pitched noise, sliding himself off the rock and smiling at you before diving under the water.
You waited a moment or two, unsure if he was coming back or not, until his head popped back up from the water. He swam towards the rock and held out his fist towards you. You looked at his hand for a moment before slowly placing your own hand underneath it, allowing him to empty the contents of his hand into your palm.
You looked into your hand curiously, the moonlight reflecting against a bunch of colorful pieces of sea glass. You slowly reached for a blue one, holding it towards the sky and allowing the light to shine onto it. You lowered your hand and smiled at him, "this is very nice. Thank you."
He lets out a satisfied noise before diving back under the water. You watch him disappear and, this time, he is gone for a longer period of time. When he does return, though, he is holding a soaking cloth bag in his hand.
He places the bag in your lap, looking at you expectantly. You set down the handful of sea glass that you had been holding next to you on the rock before pulling open the cloth bag, your eyes widening.
The bag was full of many things. More sea glass, sand dollars, shells, and a few pearls. You stare in awe for a moment before you give him a happy smile.
"This is beautiful, you seem to have been collecting for a long time," you say as you hand the bag back to him. His grin turns into a frown when you hold the bag out to him. He reaches up and pushes the bag back into your lap, chirping again. You stare at him in confusion for a moment before shaking your head with a laugh.
"I can't possibly keep all of this," You lift the bag up again, ready to hand it back to him before he lets out a low growl. Your face turns from a happy one to one of shock. He places his hand on the bag again and pushes it into your lap one more time. You blink a few times as you look from the bag to him, unsure of what to do before you shrug, "Ok, ok... I'll keep it."
He lets out a noise of pride and reaches into the bag, pulling out one of the pearls and holding it up to the moonlight. The small pearl shimmered gently against the light, its blue color was similar to the color of the merman's eyes. He looks up at you as if waiting for your reaction, so you give him a nod.
"That's very cool." You say as you admire the pearl. His smile grows as he moves closer to you, placing the pearl in your palm. He makes another chirping noise before closing your hand around the small treasure. You watch him carefully before giving him another smile. He looks up at you, his cheeks dusting a pink color. He stares at you for a moment before you hear a distant chirping sound. The merman in front of you blinks in surprise, looking at you for one more beat before waving and diving into the depths of the sea.
You waited for a while, unsure if he would be coming back. After ten or so minutes of waiting, you determined that he likely wasn't going to be returning. You stand up, gathering the items he had given you and walking towards your lifeguard tower. You glance down at your hand, admiring the pearl he had given you. You placed in it your pocket before taking the rest of your stuff and heading towards the path away from the beach, looking back at the sea one more time before smiling to yourself.
You hoped to see him again tomorrow.
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Masterlist | Ao3
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Some important lines from stormbringer about Chuuya's feelings on Dazai at the time.
Please read fully before getting angry. This isn't just Soukoku hate I promise.
"I told you, Chuuya."
He looked up in the direction of the sudden voice. It was a familiar voice, one that belonged to the person he hated most in the world.
"Your birth itself was a mistake. We're the same. Is there really a point to suffering through all that pain for a life that isn't even real?"
This isn't Chuuya talking to someone else here, this isn't pride or embarrassment making him hide his hidden affection, its a description of his genuine feeling. Verlaine who just killed his friends, N who is currently torturing him, neither of them are as hated by Chuuya as Dazai is.
but it isn't that simple.
Chuuya wanted more than anything to slice off the ear the voice was whispering into. He could see Dazai's wavering shadow by his side, and he wanted to gouge out his eyes.
This visceral anger to his vision of Dazai feels...too strong of a reaction. I know Dazai has done some fucked up things to Chuuya, but none of them should be so bad that he would hate him this much. and that what made me realise Chuuya doesn't hate Dazai, he has tied Dazai to what he hates most about himself.
A crippling feeling of isolation, being so far above everyone around you it feels like your a different species (Dazai in intelligence, Chuuya in combat)
Dazai gave into that, and let it swallow him. So to Chuuya, who fights so desperately to stay alive and connect with people despite his origins. He seems like the worst person in the world.
This line really cements this
"Thats just proof that you at least somewhat believe what I'm saying. because deep down inside, you're the same as me."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm me! I'm not some piece of shit like you!"
Dazai is everything Chuuya has tried to suppress in himself for years and years.
I firmly believe Chuuya grew to care for Dazai after years of working with him, its just the kind of person he is, but I fundamentally disagree that he never hated Dazai.
Ultimately , this post was to point out how their dynamic changed and shifted over time, and how there's more to them then some people think
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