#at least it would if I was following the pattern properly
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Together?
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader
Summary: Hanging out after a busy night at Baratie.
Tags: Bitter sweet / Sanji is very loving / Boyfriend material / Sanji needs to hear some truths
MASTERLIST
“They’ve lost their minds,” Sanji said in a lower voice tone as he stepped closer to you while you stirred the boiling sauce without taking your eyes off it—a little distraction could ruin a job of hours, and you’d learned that the worst way. “Oregano does not go in everything,” he whispered next to your ear while looking over your shoulder to check what you were doing. He never criticized your job, of course, unless he were to say something about how you should stop following the recipes and orders so strictly, but you knew better than that. Seeing what happened with Sanji for it was enough of a lesson.
“Just shut up and cook,” you sighed as you put the pan on the counter and replaced it with another of boiling water on the stove, already getting the next dish started.
Sanji huffed as he showed you a plate of what he’d done. It was certainly nothing from the menu. “Try it.”
You didn’t stop what you were doing, still adding the vegetables to the plates and covering them with sauce as you opened your mouth and let Sanji feed you a piece of whatever he’d prepared. The sweet taste of the pastry contrasted very well with the savory flavor of the filling, which probably consisted of some sort of fish and a rich sauce. You took your time to savor it before you nodded.
“That’s great, Sanji.” You nodded as you finished the dishes and called one of the waiters to say that table 11’s order was ready. “Like, great,” you tried to express, but it was hard since you were always complimenting Sanji’s cooking a lot. “Above the usual.”
Despite how you moved around so fast to keep up with the orders, Sanji still followed you with that plate in hand. “At least you have some sense, but Zeff—”
“We got orders piling in,” Zeff’s voice spoke over the loud clanking and chattering of the kitchen, as if on cue. “That means no one slacking off!”
Sanji knew it was mainly directed at him, of course. He pressed his lips together and huffed, shaking his head. He grabbed the last piece of what he’d cooked and fed it to you before he walked away.
In comparison to the open hours, the Baratie could actually be very quiet during the late night hours. The mess and euphoria took another tone and another focus. The loud chatter and music coming from the bar could only be heard faintly in the docks area. No one used to arrive at such late night hours, and the crowd was concentrated at the bar, so it would be quite peaceful there. Watching the moon’s reflection on the calm water was soothing.
The relative silence was disrupted by a pattern of footsteps that you knew very well. “I’m going to be reduced to being a fucking chore-boy at some point,” Sanji said as he eventually stopped and took a seat next to you, on the wooden platform of the dock, feet also hanging from the edge. His breathing was a little out of pace and his forehead was a little sweaty, so he had probably been off doing extra chores as some sort of punishment by Zeff. He sighed as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a cigarette.
You hummed softly. “Hm, maybe.”
Sanji was about to light his cigarette, but he paused and looked at you, dead in the eyes, frozen. “(Y/n), I—”
“No, hear me out!” You sat up properly, trying to come up with a way of saying it in as few words as possible to prevent Sanji from freaking out before you were finished. He looked so cute while angrily trying to get his lighter to work, spinning the sparkwheel with more strength than necessary, sending sparkles flying in the night darkness until he was finally able to light his cigarette. “It’s not that no one recognizes your talent or something, Sanji,” you sighed. “Zeff knows you’re good.”
Sanji furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing you in disbelief, but with that edge of sarcasm.
You observed him for a long moment. “Honestly, what do you want with your life?”
“The All Blue,” Sanji answered without missing a beat. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the dark as he took a drag of it, holding the smoke before slowly exhaling.
“Yeah. How do you expect to achieve it, though?” You raised an eyebrow.
There were a few attempts to answer. A couple of unfinished words came from Sanji as he opened his mouth a few times, but he never properly came up with anything, instead looking off to the sea after returning his cigarette to his lips.
“Exactly,” you said. “You—”
“What does it have to do with anything?” Sanji scoffed.
A silence filled in for a moment as you observed Sanji, trying to wonder what was going on in that mind of his. Sometimes, you wanted to hit him upside the head to check if that’d do anything, maybe shake up his brain and make it work for life the way it worked for food prep.
“Do you think you can find the All Blue by being a chef in the Baratie?” You asked honestly, not really putting effort into sounding all kind and sweet. “What good will it do if you just continue here, being a cook, settled down? It’s so easy to notice that Zeff is trying to push you off, so you can go do something greater, Sanji! He won’t say it directly because both of you are so stubborn, but it’s so clear!”
“But he—”
“He’s a retired pirate,” you cut in. “He’s already lived his life, and the Baratie is what he wants for now, but you? He knows you’re strong and determined. Sometimes he does stuff just to see if you’ll leave and actually do something because you’re so stubborn!”
Sanji clicked his tongue, cursing under his breath as he took another drag of his cigarette. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “How can you even be so sure of it? I’m just not wanted.”
He was so tiring. A sharp sigh escaped your nose as you looked away, shaking your head.
“Even so, do you want to be here your whole life?” You looked at him again. It was hard seeing his face through his hair and in the dark, but you had an idea of the face he might be making. “The world is so big, Sanji. There’s so much to see and live. It sounds a little pathetic, spending your life in a restaurant while you can do much more. While other people are around traveling, partying, discovering things. Living.”
Silence settled in for a second as you thought. Just the idea of all the things you’d heard or read about in the newspapers made your muscles ache to just steal a boat and start sailing.
Everything sounded quieter, suddenly. Your eyes were fixed on the moon as it stood high in the sky, half full, with a trembling image reflected on the dark sea. Maybe the sky also looked different in other places of the world.
“I wish I could even be a pirate,” you said softly, carefully. “That a pirate crew would recruit me. Let me be anything, even if not a cook, let me go with them to explore and see more things out there.” Another pause. “Don’t you wish the same, Sanji?”
No answer came in for a long moment. Smoke continued coming from Sanji as he sat there, almost unmoving.
“Really?” His voice was quiet.
“Of course.”
Sanji was quiet again. He could be mysterious sometimes. Certain subjects or mentions would often make him just fall silent and thoughtful. “Then we should go together.”
“Together?” You mumbled.
“I wouldn’t go without you,” Sanji said quietly, adjusting his posture with a sigh. There were unsaid words, of course, but words that you already knew very well. No one really gave him attention or help like you did, not to mention that if there was someone aside from Zeff who he’d actually turn to, that’d be you. It took someone to calm Sanji’s thoughts or at least help him organize them, and that’d usually be you as well.
“Great,” you stated. Your eyes didn’t even dart his way as you spoke. “I don’t think I’d let you, either.”
A sensation of accomplishment took over both of you, managing to dissolve most of the tension that was going on. Both of you had reached an agreement, even if unspoken, taking away part of the worries that clouded your minds. Even if you didn’t say it, you were always on the edge about Sanji leaving, running away in the middle of the night, and leaving you behind with nothing more than worries.
You finally looked away from the sky, observing the sea under you, and then your gaze fell on Sanji’s hand resting some inches away from your thigh. He would wear rings when he wasn’t cooking, and he always had nice ones. He didn’t even flinch when you grabbed his hand to get the ring he had around his index finger; he was already used to you taking his rings, sometimes returning them days later or just keeping them.
“Pretty,” you mumbled as you admired the details engraved on it. Shamefully, it hung loose around all of your fingers, so you ended up sliding it back on his finger. He grabbed your hand before you could pull it away, though.
Sanji tugged on your hand a little, so you moved closer and let him wrap an arm around you. He put out his cigarette against the wood once it reached the filter. “Why do you take my things, hm?” He raised an eyebrow.
You thought for a moment, and it was difficult to actually come to a conclusion about that. “I’m not sure,” you said softly. Maybe it was the need to have anything of his with you. Feel even closer to him.
“Not afraid I’ll get angry at you?”
With a scoff, you shook your head. “You never get angry at me. I’m too pretty for you to get angry at me.”
The way Sanji took a moment to observe you and then faced away with a sigh made you chuckle victoriously. “That doesn’t mean you should be doing that!” He clicked his tongue, but the annoyance he had wasn’t anything but feigned. A sigh escaped his lips as he visibly relaxed a little, shoulders dropping from their tense stance. “You’re not leaving without me, right?” Sanji muttered into your ear.
“Only if you don’t leave without me.” You raised your eyebrows lightly as you looked at him.
Sanji smiled with a proud air, nodding faintly. He leaned in, but you placed a hand over his mouth and turned his head away before anything could happen.
“You know I hate it when you kiss me right after a cigarette!” You pulled your hand away as he started chuckling.
“Only a little one? Pretty please?” Sanji’s attempts to make a dramatic sad face kept failing since he kept laughing at the glares you sent him. “Come on! I got no kisses today! How am I supposed to live without a kiss from you, hm? Hm?” He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer, kissing your cheek a few times, knowing how all of those made you start melting into his arms. You sighed with a soft groan, turning your face until you could finally meet his lips and give him the kiss he wanted so much.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
#one piece#opla#one piece live action#one piece netflix#sanji vinsmoke#sanji#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#gender neutral#sanji x reader#sanji x male reader#scenario#oneshot#imagine
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In Love With The Boy
Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.
No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.
“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.
Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”
“This whole situation with the Munson boy.”
She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.
“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”
“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”
“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”
“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”
“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”
He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”
“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”
“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”
“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”
Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”
------
It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.
These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.
He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.
No one had ever made him feel that way before.
“Stevie?” Eddie asked.
He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.
“Where do you see us in the future?”
“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”
“Really? Anywhere?”
“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”
Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”
Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”
“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”
“What for?”
“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”
“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?” He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.
“You’re a menace.”
Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”
Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another.
He was safe. He was home.
Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
His heart soared. “You mean…”
“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”
He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.
They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest.
He never had to let Eddie go again.
The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”
“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”
They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.
Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”
One short nod. “I love you.”
The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened.
“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug.
“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”
“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”
She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”
“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”
“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”
Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.
Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”
Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”
His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”
Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”
“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”
“Obviously false accusations.”
His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”
“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”
“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.”
The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”
Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”
“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”
“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”
Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”
“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.
“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”
“Dad!”
“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”
Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded.
“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.
“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.
Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”
He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands.
Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”
Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.
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Speaking of Guardians, I'm just going to make a list on the information I have on the ones associated with the main cast so far.
Note: the information here is mostly from official material (patreon interviews, merch, the videos themselves etc) but some portions of it are my own assumptions based on this information as well.
Mizi -> Guardian Shine
Guardian Shine is a prominently pink and white alien that wears a peaceful expression and bears resemblance to certain aquatic creatures, most predominantly associated with the jellyfish. Their body largely consists of floaty pink frills.
Guardian Shine is the only alien of the main cast that is explicitly stated to have a close and loving relationship with their human pet, treating Mizi like a "daughter" and ensuring that she is happy and well-provided for.
Guardian Shine created Mizi's performance dress for ROUND 1.
It seemed that whenever Mizi accomplished something good in the Anakt Garden, she would become ecstatic and excited to tell Guardian Shine about her victories.
Sua -> Guardian ???
Not much is known or seen about Sua's Guardian (the information isn't public, at least), but from the glimpses we see in MIZISUA, her Guardian is a rather luxurious and feminine alien with clawed, ring-laden hands and a lower half akin to a flower-patterned dress. It seems as though they are wearing a pale-colored fur coat.
In the disc:mizisua artbook, its stated that Sua was raised by influencers, which seems to be why her Guardian is dressed so lavishly.
Sua's Guardian did not particularly care for her, only raising her as a means to "show off".
While Guardian Shine warmly entertains Mizi before her departure, Sua's Guardian has their back turned and is instead busied with an interview (as seen by the alien holding the microphone next to them).
Because Sua's Guardian didn't care for her and only raised her for public image, they dressed Sua in doll-like clothes without care as to how it would fit her. The book states that despite it's lovely look, Sua's dress was stuffy and ill-fitting.
Till -> Guardian Urak
Guardian Urak (in earlier iterations) is a humanoid alien with a predominantly white color scheme, most recognizable by a covered upper face and floating chair. (I highly suspect the alien from ROUND 6's first verse to be the new Guardian Urak design, but I could be wrong.)
Similar to Sua's, Guardian Urak seems rather neglectful and maybe even physically abusive to Till, as seen by the multiple bruises left on him even before he's thrown at the wall. If the head alien in ROUND 6 is confirmed to be Urak, this is further proven by the first few scenes.
In an interview for a magazine portion of ROUND 2, Guardian Urak is shown to be easily dismissive of Till's misbehavior as long as it garners them a win.
Guardian Urak believes that a human's bizarre behavior is synonymous with their talent. "The more talented humans, the more likely they are to be freaks." Urak apologizes for Freddie's murder on Till's behalf, but doesn't seem to care about it beyond the surface level.
Urak barely seems to invest much into Till, at least not as much as the other Guardians do for their own pets. Till's stage in ROUND 2 is the most plain, unlike the other rounds where the stages are unique and decorated with different designs and lights. Till's outfits are also the most plain among the cast.
Ivan -> Guardian ???
Ivan's Guardian is a large, slightly Cthulhu-like alien dressed in dapper clothing, which many fans find akin to that of a mafia boss. They are dressed in colors of mainly red and black, a color scheme that their followers seem to align with as well.
Ivan's Guardian is well-known in alien society. Due to this, Ivan makes sure to behave carefully and properly while out in public as not to sully their name.
It also seems as though they are incredibly wealthy, seemingly involved in a business of some sort.
Ivan describes the relationship with his Guardian to be more like a business partnership rather than something parental.
Ivan's Guardian seems to have invested a lot into Ivan's success. Adopting him from the slums, cleaning him and remaking his image from a lowly slum child to one of the most famous, talented, and influential humans of the current season. Ivan states in an interview that he will always be grateful to them for taking him in.
Due to the investment, Ivan's performances are always of high quality, his costumes intricately made and his stages flamboyantly themed.
Since their relationship stands on business, it's most likely that Ivan was able to connect and partner with several brands due to his Guardian.
Ivan's relationship with his Guardian seems mutual, Ivan himself states it's "not bad". His Guardian provides him with what he needs to succeed and in return Ivan is obedient and always excels at what he's assigned to do. It seems as though Ivan's Guardian is often pleased with him, patting his head when he passes preliminaries and gathering other aliens to celebrate. One of the aliens even presents a bouquet of flowers, clapping their hands together.
Luka -> Guardian Heperu
Guardian Heperu is an alien with a round, squat head, bulging eyes and a pronounced neck. They seem to don a robe of some sort, paired together with a small hat.
Guardian Heperu seems to be yet another influential figure in alien society, possessing the resources necessary to invest in Luka's intensive training.
They also ensure that Luka's performances are always phenomenal, going so far as to rent out a special site for ROUND 5 (iirc, they performed ROUND 5 on the corpse of a large and powerful alien, hence the spine and bones you can see in the back of certain shots).
Guardian Heperu is an extremely envious figure who wished for a pet to trump all others, to stand above all the competitors unmatched.
Luka's unnatural conception and strict training is a result of Heperu's insecurity, the need to remain at the top constantly. Perhaps this desire ended up seeping into Luka as well.
Luka never fought back against the aliens, most likely because Heperu conditioned him to be the epitome of performative perfection since birth. How Luka interacted with his fellow humans was irrelevant, what mattered was how he interacted with the aliens who's opinions were of far greater worth. This may be why Luka seemed to be an outcast in the Anakt Garden yet a beloved prince in the eyes of the alien audience.
Luka directly refers to Heperu as "Father".
Hyuna -> Guardian ???
So far, Hyuna is the only character without even a sliver of alien connection. It makes sense, of course. She cut herself off from everything so long ago.
However, a sketch of Hyuna's alien was drafted all the way back during the production of Sweet Dream.
I'm not gonna spoil anything, but let me just say that's one hell of an alien.
Hopefully we get to see them soon!
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i did not break my own heart last night thinking about the missing 1941 scene and have it sat in my brain all of today spinning around like a fucking microwave in order to not make you lot suffer with me. and i somehow feel i may be right about this so buckle up and lets break it down.
so yes, following on from this post, i think that there is going to be a third 1941 scene. twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. it's been literally set up like that by even bringing back 1941 into s2 in the first place. but we're missing a crucial detail because it does not - at all, really - explain how they went from evading danger from hell and having a cosy candlelit bottle of red to celebrate, to the bastard 1967 scene. we all know this, this is nothing new.
the symbolism of nightingales is probably going to cast a shadow on this. these two excellent analyses look at the meaning of nightingales in the context of R&J, and the relation that the song has to this point in time, respectively. in summary; it's a song that should be around in 1941 courtesy of vera lynn and others, and the nightingale itself carries the meaning of love being hidden and forbidden by way of it singing under the cover of darkness, before being replaced with reality and soberness - represented by the lark. the Dinner of '41 scene is set in the bookshop at night; this would parallel - that they are safe and concealed, and truths can be shared, but the writing is on the wall that stepping outside would be to shatter the illusion, so to speak. it might be that the song itself gets miracled up onto the record player, or a wireless lying about - whatever. note: i don't think they'll dance though, not given crowley in ep5, "you don't dance"... but then again, if there ISNT a kiss in s3-1941, an aborted dance seems like the next best option... the cowardly one, but i'll take it
this would also track with aziraphale having his epiphany after the church in s1-1941; specifically, in my eyes, that he doesn't necessarily just realise he loves crowley, but that crowley by way of saving his books loves him too. this is only supported by the whole of the s2-1941 scene of trusting in each other as the only way to pull off the trick, the subterfuge. this is then, again, also important in the context of what i think happens in s3-1941.
i do think aziraphale is going to bring the books up again, and what crowley did, because it needs to be addressed. the Nazis/furfur confrontation has scared him, regardless of whether he saved them both, more than he realised. its put things into startling perspective. i think he's going to bring up the books, and actually question crowley a little more as to why he did it. the repeated use of, and subsequent weird reaction crowley has to, the use of the term "friend" in s2-1941 would indicate that this is going to be a focal point in s3-1941. are they just friends? is crowley disappointed that aziraphale is still referring to him as that, after what he did? 'saving' aziraphale in the church, and then saving his books? or is aziraphale just saying 'friends' so hesitantly in both instances because he's not completely sure where crowley stands?
we as the audience know the answer to this, but they obviously do not. if one of the crucial themes of s3 is going to be resolving miscommunication, it makes sense for this scene to be the first, and last, time they communicate properly... at least, until they sort out the issues that culminated in the Final Fifteen.
so let's say they start getting into a very roundabout way of discussing what they mean to each other. there will need to be the sobering, ice-water-over-the-head realisation however, as s2-1941 demonstrated, that they cannot belong to each other, because they manifestly belong to heaven and hell respectively. crowley is still being spied on, and it firmly places aziraphale in their line of sight too. it's going to bring up the holy water discussion; why crowley asked for it - to protect himself, whether by taking out demons or taking out himself, as long as it means he - and most importantly, aziraphale - does not get hurt.
they actively confess that they want to be together, in a way that is more than they are now. aziraphale wants to, but says that they can't, because it's too dangerous. crowley suggests that no one ever has to know, they can hide it (there, in the bookshop, whilst the nightingale is singing), and even if they are found out, they can run. "hell won't just be angry; they'll destroy you..." // "no one ever has to know".
aziraphale doesn't want to have to hide it, doesn't want a halfway measure- is still thinking in black and white. crowley however thinks that something is better than nothing - thinking in the grey. but ultimately, as long as they are still shackled, they cannot do what they want, and it puts the other in danger. "surely the great thing about being a demon is that you can do whatever you want" // "you sound jealous, angel...". instead, aziraphale promises that the day that they are no longer tied to heaven or hell, they can be together; crowley scoffs, thinking that that will never happen, so they will never happen, "you're so clever! how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?!"
the reason they can't right now is because they could be caught. they would have to skulk around, be ashamed, feel guilty - and aziraphale is tired of feeling like that. because only having crowley in secret would hurt more. not being able hold his hand, or dance with him, or kiss him, unless it was in the bookshop. if hell were to find out, crowley would be killed, true, but if heaven were to find out, aziraphale could be cast out. and if crowley survived hell long enough to see aziraphale fall - he'd never forgive himself, and in a way, i don't think he'd ever forgive aziraphale either.
it's tearing them to pieces, but they have to stop whatever is happening between them in its tracks. it's acknowledged, but it's not named. this gives them plausible deniability; if they called it 'love', it would be undeniable. so, aziraphale asks for crowley to go; asks him to leave before they do something they can't come back from. crowley doesn't listen - crowds him, gets in close, and aziraphale is powerless to stop it. doesn't want to stop it. he's selfish by nature, a selfless kind of selfishness, but he wants this with all his being. and then - "this is too fast, crowley, please don't..." // "im sorry, angel. please... please, forgive me". aziraphale never gets to answer, to grant him that, because boom - the actual first kiss.
so. now that i've had to make you read that, i'm going in for the kill. let's look at everything that follows - and look at how the above might recontextualise it.
1967: the offer of the picnic, the Ritz? ie. the literal lyrics of berkeley square? aziraphale has caved in the interest of giving crowley a weapon to use if all else fails, to protect him, but that's as far as he's willing to progress. everything else is still too painful; he's on the brink of tears, promising that one day they'll be able to do what they want, to be open about how they feel, but not yet. they can't. crowley tries to push, "ill give you a lift, anywhere you want to go..." (him offering again to run away? a second chance to leg it?), and aziraphale reminding him that they can't, he can't... don't make him go too fast again, it's not fair. it also sets up perfectly that aziraphale and crowley don't speak for the next 40 or so years (as far as we're aware) until armageddon is threatened.
bandstand: mostly this is still centred around the apocalypse contextually, but i think with the above hypothetical scene in mind (the offer to hide, to run away, to be together), aziraphale is sent back to remembering their mutual confession that they've nonverbally agreed not to bring up, because it's not safe, and it's too painful. they've skirted around it, and returned instead to a tentative kind of friendship at the beginning of s1, but they're still not safe to address why seeing each other again, being so close to each other and not being able to touch is so painful. anyway - aziraphale refuses their side, but the above scene would re-view this as 'our side can't exist yet, you know this! you know why it can't!', and crowley leaves, again after pushing a bit more than aziraphale can stand.
alpha centauri: basically a facsimile of the above; same steps, same dance. but this time, crowley harks back to aziraphale's foolish (?) hope that they will be together, without having to run away, when the day comes that they don't have to answer to heaven or hell. and aziraphale smacks him right back, echoing crowley asking for aziraphale's forgiveness in kissing him, "i forgive you." crowley knows exactly what aziraphale is getting at, there - he's answering crowley's whispered plea to forgive him for pushing, for trying to force him, for acting in desperation. but he's also not answering that - he's skirting around that very thing, forgiving him like a knife would, slicing back at crowley for not only insulting aziraphale on something that is likely a genuine insecurity of his, but also putting him back in his place, for their safeties, because them being together just cannot happen. not yet.
and "please forgive me" in 1941 might seem out of character, but idk if it is; crowley knows that doing what he's about to do will hurt aziraphale, aziraphale has (hypothetically) told him as much, but he needs to do it - and seeks not benevolence or forgiveness as crowley-the-demon, but actually seems aziraphale's forgiveness, as crowley-the-person. the echo would certainly match the tone given here, in multiple ways:
the ritz: i mean, what is there to say? yes, their song is literally playing on the piano, and heralds the shift in their being out from heaven and hell, the day has finally come where they can - again, going by this entirely hypothetical scene that ive concocted - actually be together as they want to. and the nightingale literally singing outside, but as @shoemakerobstetrician beautifully pointed out, god remarks that it's covered up by traffic. so actually, if we again refer back to R&J interpretation of the nightingale, the love is still hidden, still somewhat under wraps, but can only just about be heard over the noise of the streets outside. the prohibition of them being together, of loving each other, is dwindling. and one day, it'll stop singing altogether. that day is coming, it will come, and then they can do what they please. so whilst the ritz scene may well be a mark of them starting the next chapter, it's slow to take hold, there's still hesitancy - which absolutely makes sense when we see that they are still very tentative with each other come the beginning of s2.
s2 general: aziraphale realises their freedom first; he gets excited by the dance, and being able to show his love to crowley, completely and without barriers, in the form of the ball - what he has read to be the best way to do so. he touches crowley more. he shares his bookshop with him, gifts it to crowley as being his as well as aziraphale's, this safe space that is so wholly theirs that crowley has the power to grant entry. the same with the bentley - aziraphale sees it as theirs, and crowley silently agrees, granting aziraphale the same power. crowley is comfortable in the bookshop to remove his glasses, has a place for them. the bookshop becomes tidier, more minimalist, to make crowley more comfortable in it (it is more cluttered in s1, im certain of it). it might just be the grading between s1 and s2, and lack of clutter, but the yellow is more prominent - his literal favourite colour. everything just screams that aziraphale is ready to make good on his promise from s3-1941.
crowley... for once, is the one not quite catching up. not realising the little dates here and there are literally poses them as a couple (although yes, the coffee shop one is to prep crowley for the goob jumpscare), that aziraphale has granted him the power to grant entry. aziraphale literally asking, practically begging, crowley to help him hide goob. the mf colour of the walls. the colour of the bentley. it's not until nina outright asks him if they are together that he realises how careless they've been - but wait, is it careless if they have nothing to be careful of? well, arguably crowley does, hell are still hanging around him like a bad smell... but this is what he wanted! this is what he was pushing aziraphale for! so, does he risk it? he's not sure, but he's certainly realising that aziraphale is ready, if nothing else. and by the time the ladies stage their little intervention, crowley finally realises that the confession he started in 1941 now can be fully aired, can come out into the open.
the Feral Domestic: *fingers at temples* i know i have been fairly vocal about my interpretation of this scene, and frankly - until we get this hypothetical s3-1941 scene, i stand by it - but let's say this speculation about the scene is true, and re-examine the key points in the Final Fifteen that would completely turn on their heads in terms of meaning:
literally, harking back full circle to what aziraphale promised in 1967 as what they would do when they could fully acknowledge their love, and what they did as soon as - on paper - they were free at the end of s1. this is however before he's spoken to by nina and maggie, so maybe this is what crowley was planning in terms of confessing fully to aziraphale, but after their meddling he realised that yes, they need to actually talk about it again. he doesn't understand why they're telling him what they are - because he's existed so long in gestures and gifts and not talking, literally dismissed it now as a viable option, that it doesn't even occur to him to try talking again.
which is why he does something brave, and tries to tell aziraphale instead (say it out loud, make it undeniable, put a name to it, "i love you", something that i think was crowley's actual intention before aziraphale interrupts him) when he comes back to the shop... he's so nervous, because it's vulnerable, and because the last time he did, they ended up hiding for 50-ish years.
next up:
now, im reluctant to think that aziraphale lied in the Feral Domestic, because i do think the key thing at work is his paramount need to do the Right Thing (ie. make a difference in heaven). whilst metatron obviously manipulates him, im not entirely convinced that aziraphale wholly sees through it. i don't think he knew that metatron was up to something, i think the shaking off of this naivety is going to be part of his s3 character development. but this sentence - again, especially in context of the hypothetical s3-1941 scene - must on some level frighten him. especially if you take this meta into account, aziraphale must realise at least that they were never safe, even when they were denying what they were and how they felt, it didn't make a bit of difference. now, metatron could have just been talking about the arrangement, not referring to any romantic elements of any kind, but the threat of it? no wonder he pushes for crowley to join him in heaven; he could keep crowley safe there. they could be together, and heaven - in his eyes - would be able to say a word against it.
then:
the fear sets in; crowley was too late in telling him, acknowledging that they could be together, realising what aziraphale was saying to him without words, and now heaven has come for him. plonked them right back where they were in s2-1941, but perversely mirrored; instead of hell coming for crowley with violence, heaven came for aziraphale with kindness. crowley doesn't have a magic trick he can just do on the fly, perform it perfectly when the need for it is greatest, and has to cling to the hope that aziraphale still sees them as the barrier to them, the reason they can't be together. and in true miscommunication fashion, i think aziraphale does see it, but what metatron said lingers, and in addition to being inside the institution, changing it from the inside out, in order to make a difference... he knows that whilst it's exactly the opposite of what they wanted, he needs to make them safe. better to be inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing in.
but aziraphale doesn't tell crowley what metatron said, because instead he either deliberately tries to deny the implications of it (cognitive dissonance king behaviour), or he doesn't want to panic crowley and is trying to convey to crowley that he can't speak his concerns, not when the metatron could still be watching, and instead just needs crowley to trust him, take his hand, and join him in heaven where they can be safe. doesn't tell crowley that heaven hasn't captured him in shackles again, but he's willingly held out his wrists because it's the safest thing for him, and them, to do.
so it's one thing to look at what crowley's saying, but aziraphale's reaction? before, i just found it to be out of confusion, him not really understanding what crowley was saying, but tbh i never paid much attention to it (david stole this bit of the scene - not to put down my beloved michael here, but he did). and i know others have remarked here that aziraphale is flitting his eyes to the window and looks scared and stressed, but i don't completely think that its because he's scared that metatron is watching (although, now, i will accept with the rug thing and hypothetical s3-1941 in context it is definitely playing a part), but also because he's just starting to recognise that this is a repeat of the s3-1941 scene, "this sounds familiar, we've been here before... oh, we've definitely been here before... oh shit. i still can't do this, not unless he comes with me. we still can't be together, not in the way crowley wants. the way he's trying again, now, to ask for."
but the issue is: crowley wants to run away together. again. and i totally get why, but once again, going back to 1941: it's exactly the solution that will not work. they cannot run from this. heaven, and hell, will find them. they will come for them. it wasn't an option in 1941, it wasn't an option in 2019, and it isn't an option in 2023. aziraphale begins shaking his head - crowley is confessing, but a) aziraphale doesn't run from things, it isnt in his character, and b) it's just putting them back where they started - something that they have to hide. it defeats the purpose.
and this? yeah, im sure on neither side it was meant the way im about to interpret it, more of an unspoken thing, idk... but if the bookshop is indeed their place of safety, and is where they (as far as crowley sees it) can speak and keep their love, it makes sense that crowley is telling aziraphale he needs to stay. the bookshop can be interpreted so many ways - it represents their relationship, or that crowley means him, himself - but what if we looked at it like crowley is trying now to covet it, because it's protecting them? what if he's saying, "well, if you won't run away with me, we can't be free to have our relationship as we wanted it, not unless we stay here... heaven has come for you, has come for us, and whilst they're here we can't move. so what other option is left remain in this bookshop? to never leave it, and what we have inside it, because there's no other option in which we can be together if you won't run with me."
and what if aziraphale is saying, "no, i have an option, and that's to be together in heaven! they won't be able to do anything, not when im in the position the metatron has offered me, that can be our new bookshop... nothing lasts forever - this bookshop won't last forever, it's compromised, and we can't continue to secret away what we feel inside it, it's time to move forward."
welcome to the line that breaks my heart the most in this whole goddamn scene - and tbh i think is fairly self-explanatory in the hypothetical s3-1941 context. that aziraphale is trying, once again, to tell crowley that he is offering himself, letting them be an 'us', as crowley says shortly after - that before he couldnt do it, and these arent the best of circumstances, but they can finally do it and not have to hide in the bookshop. but crowley reminds him, "hey, i was in your shoes, remember. i wanted us to be together then, and you told me you couldn't, didn't want a halfway measure - well, now i don't either. and this will be a halfway measure, because i don't think us being together in heaven is going to go the way you hope it will. i understand a whole lot better than you do." in any case, it would explain why aziraphale choses this moment to look so devastated. this is what he promised crowley, but now crowley - to his mind, in the things left Unsaid - doesn't want it... him.
and then... back to the nightingales. they're not singing at all, not even under the rumble of traffic, like they were at the Ritz. they're completely absent - day has broken, the things unspoken have now been said, and there's no denying them anymore. from crowley's point of view, there was nothing to stop them this time, but if aziraphale won't run with him, then they have to go separate ways, because there is no other way. aziraphale knows there's the possibility that the only place they could actually be safe is heaven itself, that the bookshop was never as safe as they hoped it had been, but that crowley might actually come to see that. but the fact that crowley is resigned to just... returning to 'reality', to a world that's still turning where they aren't together? despite everything they've just said? "we could've been... us." well, that hurts.
and then... the kiss. now. im still of the mind that the kiss was an Issue. i definitely think it was meant out of love and desperation, and out of possibly being a goodbye. this would echo the hypothetical s3-1941 kiss... but it was hurtful. it was abrupt, and harsh, and not at all romantic (imo). it was possessive, and almost cruel. i do think still it was a last ditch attempt, a temptation, to get aziraphale to change his mind, before crowley leaves the shop and returns to the 'real world'. but it hurts aziraphale in many different ways - but with 1941 put in there, too? crowley is just testing his resolve, trying to push him, come around to giving in. crowley asked him to forgive him the last time he kissed aziraphale, and this time - this time, aziraphale is giving him what he asked for.
#did i just do a whole ass meta based off of a completely hypothetical non-existent hc of the third part of 1941?#yes - yes i did#but the Implications would not leave my brain#make of this what you will if you even got to the end and if you did frankly congratulations#good omens
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Little idea I had..
During the dungeon journey the happened across a random wild spell that turns everyone into a hybrid
All except for izutsumi and the reader (cuz they a kobold)
Thinking how the party reacts to the everyday things the reader goes through
Oh this is a delightfully hilarious idea,i approve of it. Perhaps it was a trap laid in the dungeon by thistle or perhaps another adventurer did it, either way the outcomes are funny.
Laios - You have never seen laios so genuinely excited, He cheered and laughed happily at this new transformation. This is everything he could have ever dreamed of. His transformation made him a dog hybrid so he was perhaps the most similar to You as a kobold. You teach him about properly brushing your fur and how to sit with a tail. Though over all laios couldnt be happier, he finally gets to be more than just a tall man and can be a cool hybrid.
Marcille - She was transformed into a Rabbit hybrid, Her long elf ears now even longer floppy rabbit ears. She was far from excited to say the least, Frantically trying to find a spell that could possible fix this, Though she did have to admit the magic was impressively strong. Her bunny legs were a challenge for her to get used to, she could use them for walking sure but they were more suited for hopping. Her tail wasnt as large so she didnt have as many issue sitting as laios did at first. But you still helped teach her how to handle her instincts and not run away at the slightest of loud noises.
Chilchuck - While you had expected him to become some sort of mouse or rat hybrid, however when it turned out he had become a Racoon hybrid was fitting all things considered. The dark fur pattern around his eyes giving him almost a thieves mask, which you couldnt help but chuckle at how ironic it was. you also taught chilchuck about sitting with a tail now but other than that his transformation went the easiest out of anyones. You did happen to note that chilchuck became incredibly prone to washing his hands before and after eating, an instinct that wasnt actually the worst one to follow.
Senshi - At first you were all confused on what senshi had transformed into. The fur was smooth almost velvety, and his hands had grown slightly bigger, and you noticed the mustache portion of his beard had grown. Eventually Laios realized that senshi must have become a mole hybrid which upon reflection made sense. Truthfully not much about senshi had changed, However he had noted that he now had an insatiable craving for things like Treasure bugs, mimics, and living armor again. This you werent sure if you would attribute it to his new mole hybrid existence or just how he is normally. Either way you helped him get used to his fur/hair which was incredibly soft.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi x reader#laios#chilchuck#marcile#senshi#laios touden#marcille donato#chilchuck tims#senshi of izganda
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My favorite Cody&Ahsoka dynamic is when Cody genuinely likes Ahsoka and fucking hates Anakin.
I love the idea of Marshall Commander Cody having to suffer through the long year of the clone wars that Anakin was still a padawan under General Kenobi. Having to deal with Anakin's insaburdinate over dramatic ass every force forsaken day.
Never able to have a single one of his meticulously coordinated plans actually get executed properly because inevitably Skywalker would fuck it up by doing what ever the hell he wants to do. And not even bother to let anyone else know when he was doing it.
And Cody is so damn relieved when he's promoted and finally out if the 212th. But he's still not quite gone because he's always freaking there. With the 501st, still getting in the way.
But when Ahsoka shows up. Not only is she actually intelligent, but she's 1000% down with conspiring to undermine her master. And after way too long dealing with Skywalker's "Tactics" Cody finally has some direct sway within the 501st. Bc he has an inside man.
Anakin walks out if a mission debrief after spewing the most batshit nonsense that Cody has ever heard in his short (but getting longer every fucking day) life. And Cody turns to Ahsoka who's already grinning at him like a lothcat about to knock a glass off the counter.
"So what are we actually doing?"
Then Cody gets to pull up his proper holodiagrams and coordinate at least her half of the mission and Ahsoka's just stoked that someone is actually taking the time to sit down and teach her actually military tactical movements. The kind that the clones have studied for years.
And anytime Anakin bitches about them not following the plan Ahsoka hits him with his own lines. "Well made plans rarely last past first contact, Master." or "I followed the plan. Up until the circumstances changed." or "We needed a more aggressive touch."
The same passive-aggressive smug bullshit Cody had to put up with during Anakin's exceedingly long year as a commander.
And by the end of the war Ahsoka has a bonkers mix of studiously acquired historical military education, and the half-outlined manic planning patterns of Anakin Skywalker. Which is why she's basically untouchable in all combat scenarios.
Because no matter how much you know about militant tactics she probably knows more. And if she doesn't she will just say fuck it and resort to some Skywalker bullshit.
#star wars#ahsoka tano#clone wars#sw tcw#tcw#anakin skywalker#fanfic#501st#212th#marshall commander cody#commander cody#Ori'vod Cody#vod'ika ahsoka
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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part VII
Find Part I here :)
Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.
Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)
And a huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO has everyone seen this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear mood boards are stunning <3
Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias /
Part VIII >>
The Forest House was always at its loveliest in the morning, Lucien knew, and while he had not stepped foot in his childhood home in decades, it was almost as though no time had passed.
Warm sunlight filtered in through the arched windows, falling leaves created an ever-moving pattern along the stone walls. Lucien could smell the sweet pastries being baked in the kitchens mixed with the always present scent of crisp apples. It was too early for anyone else to be wandering the ancient hallways, none of the nobles or aristocrats awake just yet.
It was peaceful, nearly enough so as to make Lucien forget all of his less pleasant memories in Autumn.
The sharp pain shooting up his side made Lucien wince, bringing him back to the harsh present. He was feeling much better than he had the night before, still a little bruised and sore, but no longer exhausted from the injuries.
Lucien wondered if Elain’s presence had been the reason for his swift recovery, whether being in his mate’s proximity was to thank for his overnight healing.
When Lucien had left their shared suite, Elain had still been asleep. She had been curled up on the armchair by the fireplace, the flames low, a fur blanket pulled up to her chin. Lucien had been struck with how lovely she was, curls framing her face rather endearingly, but even in sleep Elain had looked troubled.
Elain’s brow had been furrowed, her full lips pulled down at the corners in a small frown, like she had been unable to rest.
Lucien had blamed it on the fact that she could hardly be comfortable confined to the armchair, and while he had appreciated how she had not hesitated to offer him the bed, he had been annoyed with himself the following day for not having insisted otherwise at the time.
Lucien had clambered under the covers with no argument after having washed up, Elain had been pretending to sleep, obviously to avoid speaking with him any more. Lucien had allowed Elain that, had considered it the least he could do for her after she had faced his father, but he regretted not pushing her to take the bed.
The sound of Lucien’s boots hitting the stone floor echoed around him as he continued to walk the halls.
He was unsure of how he could properly thank Elain for what she had done, for the danger she had put herself in. The idea of finding her lady’s maid came to Lucien as he had been searching through the already full closet, glad that whoever had set the rooms had thought of it. The clothes he had been wearing were ripped and stained with his blood, even the style would have been considered inappropriate for the court he had been raised in.
Lucien had not yet run into the female that had come to Autumn with Elain, still nameless and faceless to him, but he had been certain in his ability to spot her despite the fact.
Lucien knew Elain would feel more comfortable with a familiar face, more at ease with someone who simply was not him. Lucien hoped he would find her lady’s maid, but that had not been the only reason he had woken up so early, had left Elain alone.
The Lady of Autumn liked drinking her morning coffee on a balcony Lucien had long ago begun referring to as his mother’s. Seeing her in the throne room the night before had been enough to rattle Lucien, the way she had clung to the High Lord familiar. Even in Lucien’s earliest memories, the Lady of Autumn would try to spare all her children from her husband’s wrath, unafraid for her own well-being.
Lucien was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of the sharp whistle behind him, the kind Eris so often used to command his hounds. Lucien stopped walking suddenly, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“Morning, fox,” the greeting rough, cruel amusement lacing the words.
Instead of waiting for a response from Lucien, a second voice followed the first. “You’re looking much better, little brother. Spending the night with your mate seems to have done you a world of good.”
Ronan’s answering chuckle was enough to make Lucien’s blood boil. He turned around to face his brothers, having to contain the snarl that wanted to escape his lips. Lucien had not heard them approach, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.
Felix raised an elegant auburn brow. “Surprising that she’s not with you now,” his frown was convincingly disappointed. “When will you be introducing us?”
Never, Lucien thought. He had to stop himself from snapping the word. Instead, he ran his tongue over his teeth, took a deep breath. “You can meet her tomorrow, with the rest of the court.” Lucien hoped his tone suggested the decision was final.
“No exceptions are to be made for family?” Ronan grinned, knowing well that Lucien had not considered himself their brother since the moment Jesminda’s heart had stopped beating.
Lucien hated them both in equal measure. Ronan for the role he had played in his lover’s death, and Felix for the simple fact that he was horrible. As a child, Lucien had tried to win their affection, and had been confused by their constant rejection of him.
Lucien tamed his growing anger, choosing to answer calmly instead. “Afraid not.”
“Pity,” flames flared in Ronan’s dark eyes as he shrugged. “I hear she’s lovely.”
Lucien growled then, uncontrollable. Perhaps it was jealousy, he thought, the bond pushing him to act in such a way. If Lucien could have it his way, Elain would never have needed to meet his brothers, she would have never needed to step foot in Autumn. Lucien silently cursed Eris for getting his mate involved.
Ronan looked pleased by Lucien’s reaction, and it seemed like he was about to continue taunting his youngest brother, but he did not get the chance.
Not as Eris winnowed effortlessly between them. Lucien had always envied his eldest brother’s ability to step through space as easily as breathing. Eris made no show of his magic, creating an effect that Lucien considered rather unsettling.
“Are we having a reunion in the middle of the hall?” Eris drawled, the tone of his voice enough to bring matching scowls to Felix and Ronan’s faces.
Lucien could barely hide his grin as his other brothers inched further away now that Eris had arrived, as their expressions failed to hide their fear. Eris was a High Lord’s heir, and even Lucien was wary around such power.
“We thought we should welcome Lucien,” Felix offered. “It’s been an age since he’s stayed at the Forest House.”
Eris waved his hand dismissively. “You both have more important business to attend to,” he glared at Lucien, “I must speak with our little brother.”
Before Lucien could respond, Eris grabbed onto his shoulder roughly, winnowing them both to a different part of the ancient complex.
Eris let go of Lucien with a parting shove. “Do me a favour and go an entire day without being useless,” he hissed.
If the circumstances had been any different, Lucien would not have taken insult to Eris’s words. He had long ago gotten used to the way Eris spoke, every sentence sharp as thorns.
But it was because of Eris that Rhysand and Feyre had let Elain come for Lucien, that his mate was stuck in Autumn, their wedding date set. Lucien had well and truly had enough of Eris and his meddling.
Swift as an adder, Lucien lunged at Eris, grabbing him by the collar. He threw Eris against the stone wall. “How could you?” He spat, ignoring the way his brother grunted in pain. “Why in the hell would you bring my mate, my mate, to this cauldron forsaken court?”
Eris rolled his eyes, hardly concerned. He made no effort to free himself from Lucien’s grip. “Is she made of porcelain?”
Eris’s question was enough to make Lucien release his hold on his brother’s jacket. “Father will–”
“Do nothing,” Eris interrupted. “He’ll do nothing so long as he wants to remain in the Night Court’s good graces.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Spend enough time in Velaris and you start acting like Rhysand and his ilk. Elain chose to come, I hardly forced her.”
Lucien was growing frustrated, but Eris was his only ally in Autumn. With a sigh, he rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He did not trust Eris to have been entirely honest with Elain, to have warned her of the situation she would be getting herself into. “Rhysand and Feyre just let you take her?”
“I doubt they would have been able to stop her, she’s quite stubborn, made quite a fuss over the whole thing.” Lucien watched as Eris shrugged, “She convinced me to let her take a lady’s maid. Your mate strikes me as a female unlikely to take no for an answer.”
Lucien felt fear, steady like the flow of a river, creeping into his veins. “If anything happens to her–”
“Stop worrying,” Eris interrupted once more. “I don’t care to hear your concerns.” Lucien bristled, ready to snap a response, but Eris had not finished. “Besides, your mate is looking for you.”
Lucien had grown tired of Eris’s games. With one final glare cast in his eldest brother’s direction, he summoned his magic, glowing gold as he winnowed to Elain.
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#elucien#elain x lucien#elain archeron x lucien vanserra#lucien vanserra#eris vanserra#vanserra brothers#autumn court#elain archeron#she is not in this chapter#thank you to everyone for reading#all you have is your fire#ashes writes sometimes
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I haaaasss 27 asks :}
Yes. Yes it does.
Thank you! :DD And yeah canon Gregory is just not my vibe man XD
(Traffic cone in question)
Thank you so much! :DD And yeah I try my best to get up and do something productive/different when I'm feeling down like that. My thought process is "well sitting here and sulking isn't making me feel any better so I should go and do something else" Which just so happened to be breaking out the old sewing kit and making a traffic cone?? XD Well to be fair I've made like 10 of those before but still an odd choice on my part-
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked my cars artwork! :DD
And yeah I would draw cars stuff more often but they're just so hard to draw :(
Idk why they decided to jump into a DLC before fixing the base game, but man I really wish they wouldn't have. 😔
I'll do my best! :D
@tallchest13-blog
Yes :} or at least I've been trying to-
Thank you so much! And I did use a pattern to make him. Credit for the patten goes to Tammy Hallam, heres her video on how to make your own too! :}
@montygatorshusband
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD
As for Glamrock Bonnie,, ehh, its a bit odd to me. Not a huge fan of the color pallet but its not the worst I've seen. I'd give it a 5.5 outa 10
ALSO! I believe Octonauts is streaming on Netflix, but I've also had some luck finding full episodes on YouTube :0
Thank you! And oh yeah, I feel you on the fandom part. XD That's why I'm still kind'a on the fence and haven't dove head first into my usual angsty stuff. I'm kind'a testing the waters with every post I make to see if I'll collide with the uh, other side of the fandom :x
Thank you! :DDD
Also Google is a search engine. :0 If you search for Octonauts fanart, its gonna do its job and search for fanart and likely find some of the stuff I made. Notice though that all of my artwork shown on Google links directly back to my blog. Its because Google isn't stealing it, its parting the branches of a bush and pointing "Look! Over there is some Octonauts fanart like you requested!" XD
@pinkbomb08
There isn't really anything Gregory can do for Bonnie..
Its hard to explain,, but I'll try. Bonnie is missing his leg from the middle of his shin down. So he cant stand up right like Foxy because- well duh, he's missing a whole foot.
So order to fix Bonnies leg so he can stand/walk like Foxy does, he would need an entire replacement foot with a working joint. This would also mean that the wires in Bonnies legs would have to be replaced and hooked up so that he can control said new foot.
Currently there are no spare parts around that fit Bonnies model.. and even if they did, Gregory wouldn't know how to properly re-wire an animatronic foot. He's smart but not THAT smart <XDD
The only thing Gregory could do is make Bonnie a weird peg leg that makes his current leg longer. Currently Bonnies half leg is shorter than his good leg. But in all honesty Bonnie doesn't really want that.
Having Gregory ducttape this weird goofy peg leg to him would be more embarrassing then what he already has. He'd probably want to salvage what ever dignity he has left and say "ah give it a rest. There's no point. My legs good enough for what its for." <:/
@taizarack
If I remember correctly... Sometime ago my tablet pen broke. And it took like 2-3 weeks for a new one to arrive. In the mean time I tried to make an art doll of sorts. That doll was Bibi!
I ended up making a lot of goofy posts with Bibi and I as I waited for my pen to arrive. Once it finally did and I went back to drawing comics, I ended making Bibi a reoccurring character. And he's been around ever since!
Now Jangles is a Halloween prop that I bought because I thought it was funny. I was practicing making quilts one time and I made a small blue one that just so happened to be the right size for him. So I put it on and then I thiiink I got the idea to add Jangles to my blog as a joke.? I gave Bibi a "new friend" to celebrate hitting 10,000 followers. The new friend was a cropped png of jangles XD
Eventually down the line I wanted to give Bibi an proper friend. So for Bibi's birthday I drew a comic where Jangles came to life and here we are XD
@pinkbomb08
Currently I am getting none of those things :x I have a cold so sleep and food is hard :( Thank you though! :D
@notsoliyah
:D AW!! Thank you! I'm so glad to hear how I've inspired you! :}}
@ur0neand0nly
XD Thank you so much! And don't worry, I'm pretty confident I'll draw him again someday
XD Thank you. To be honest I'm kind'a going back and fourth on this fandom. I don't really wanna be apart of the fandom, but the characters are the only thing I'm interested in drawing atm soo-
@ardent-38
Ooo these are interesting! Although absorbing power ups isn't about digesting them. Its something about being human specifically that allows them to absorb the powerups.. 👀👀👀
@maddiethehatter2192
My advice would be to use references religiously. That's what I did!
Also thank you! :DD
Barnaby for sure.
Well, my interpretation of him really-
@taizarack (Post in question)
@funky-frankie
No there's no SpongeBob comic, I just felt like drawing Mr. Krabs XD
Also THANK YOU!! :DD That means so much!! :}}}
@elegysonnet
<XD thank you. So far I have some pretty basic ones I imagine. Wally's house is alive and evil, Julie is actually a scary monster but has drastically altered her appearance to look less scary.. Sally is very celestial in nature because she's a real star, Eddie used to be a real human and bleeds and has a heart beat and what not.. uuuuuuh what elseeee,,, I liked to imagine that Sally and Julie came to the neighborhood when they were really young and Poppy kind'a adopted them?? Although I don't know how wide spread that idea is XD
Thank you! And yeah I'm not very fond of that portrayal either <XD As for your questions..
1: I'm sure there would be somethings that would push his anxiety to the surface. I'm not sure what they'd be but still- I imagine if Luigi was around to see it he would try to get Mario out of what ever situation he's in. If he's in a crowd he'd try to help him slip away unnoticed.
2: I'm not familiar with the giga bell, but if I did add it I'd imagine those would be the side effects yeah <XD Really sore and tired and cant really move for like 3 days :x
Remodeled or not, I wont be adding any of those animatronics to the Pizzaplex. I already wrote the entire past of this timeline, and those bots all already have a story in my AU. And with their given stories it wouldn't make sense for them to be added to the Pizzaplex.
Of course I cant spoil what those stories are, just know that I have my reasons-
Oh yeah I forgot to add the colored eye lids to Wally and Barnaby in that trampoline drawing <XD
And yeah! I wanted Wally to be much more expressive so I gave him eyebrows-
@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson
Aw, thank you so much!! Its so cool to hear that you've shared my name with your friends!! :DD
#my response#fnaf security breach dlc spoilers#fnaf security breach dlc#fnaf security breach#ocotnauts#bibi and jangles
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Anonymous Asks: "Weird request if u even do request, maybe u write something about Ranger!Alan"
Oooh yes, I wanna write more Alan stuff!! And this gave me an excuse to geek out about birds again too >:3c
Content: mostly just goofy cuteness and bird nerds, slight yandere hints at the very end because it's still Alan lmao
The whole day’s been a bit of a bust, really. A couple of red-bellied woodpeckers, a mockingbird, and more grackles than you can count. The woods are nice, at least. It’s cold and breezy, a lovely day for a hike. You’ve gotten a decent amount of exercise in, walking around the nature reserve to try and find interesting birds.
You’re about to give in and head back home when a sound stops you in your tracks. It’s a sharp staccato of a call. It goes on for a few seconds and then abruptly stops. You wait for an agonising minute before it sounds once more. It could be… It would be a longshot, but… Maybe…?
It’s hard not to get your hopes up. You try to temper them with reminders of the day’s disappointments. But you can’t fully push them down as your eyes scan the trees for any sign of the bird who made the call. There’s a flash of yellow overhead, and then the call sounds once more from behind you.
You turn slowly, watching the bird zip by overhead again to land on a new branch, hidden from your sight. Its wingspan is only about seven inches. A spark of hope flickers in your chest, and you once again try to push it down. There’s no way…
It flies past again, still too quick to properly focus on its pattern. You can only really get a good idea of how big it is. About four and a half inches long. It’s yellow and black and white and… maybe it is? Maybe it really is?
It lands on a branch further into the woods. You slowly bring your binoculars up, desperate not to make a move sudden enough to scare it. All you need is one good look at it. Just one glance at its pattern and colouration before you can be certain in your identification. Just one look…
Snap.
The bird takes off with a startled call, flying far too quickly for you to follow. You watch it go, your one chance at a successful bird sighting that day. With a scowl, you round on the idiot whose careless footsteps scared it off.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You wish there was more venom in your voice, but mostly you just sound a bit like your scolding an unruly child. The man behind you has the good grace to look embarrassed. He rubs at the back of his neck, removing his ranger hat to hold it to his chest.
“Sorry about that.”
Your anger simmers down to a mild annoyance at the sight of his uniform. It’s hard to be mad at someone whose job it is to keep the woods safe. Still, did he need to be in this stretch of woods right now?
“The one interesting bird today, and you had to scare it off.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, letting your binoculars fall to rest around your neck.
“There was a bear sighting.” He sounds half defensive and half amused. “In this exact spot, in fact.”
His amusement is lost on you for all of ten seconds before you follow his gaze to your arms. Oh. Your brown jacket and brown pants. It’s so stupid, you can’t help but give an incredulous laugh. A bear sighting.
“Now that I think about it, the woman who called it in was rather old. And was also checking the lost and found for her glasses.” The ranger grins at you, stifling a snicker.
“For fuck’s sake.” You give something between a laugh and a sigh, flipping your notebook closed. “Do I really look like a bear?”
He stares appraisingly at you for a moment, and you can’t tell if it’s in jest or not. “No, you look like a twitcher.”
You purse your lips. “Birder, actually. I don’t care how rare the bird is, I’m just trying to fill this thing.” You lift your notebook for a moment.
He holds a hand out. “Your life-list? May I?”
The momentary hesitation isn’t lost on him, and when you finally hold the notebook out, he handles it with great care. He flips through it, looking at the list of birds you’ve seen. You’re rather proud of it, normally. It’s got a good number of birds. But you’re sure that it looks nothing short of pathetic to a ranger.
“What were you hoping to add to it?” He finally speaks up once he finishes perusing the list.
“Oh…” You can feel the heat rising in your face. It’s almost embarrassing to say aloud now. It’s so unlikely that you were right anyway… “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think it’s what I thought it was.”
He hums thoughtfully. “And what did you think it was?”
“A… Golden-winged warbler.” You feel stupid, saying it aloud. Such a rare and elusive bird? How could you have seen one here? “It was just, I mean the call. And there was yellow on it. It was the right size and shape…”
“It’s possible.” He takes it so seriously, it catches you off guard. He nods and replaces his hat, glancing off into the trees. “The lake is just through there, it would make sense.”
“Have you seen them around here before?” You find yourself drifting closer to him, warming to the conversation.
“Oh, yes.” He nods solemnly. “Rescued a nest from a particularly boisterous off-leash dog last spring.”
You grimace. Off-leash dogs, a birder’s worst nightmare. They scare off all the wildlife, not to mention the harm they can do to the native bird populations. The idea of one getting to the nest of such an endangered bird sets you on edge.
“Good thing a ranger like you was here to save them then.” You tilt your head, scanning his uniform for some sort of nametag.
“Oh,” he seems to realise what you’re looking for. “Alan.”
You smile and introduce yourself. “So, Alan…” the name suits him. “You really think it could’ve been a golden-winged warbler?”
“Not sure enough to add it to your life-list, but… Could’ve been.” He seems to get an idea, eyes lighting up as he gestures for you to follow him. “But maybe I can make it up to you for scaring it off?”
It’s… not a good idea, following a strange man into the woods. But he’s a ranger. And he seems so excited to show you whatever he’s leading you towards… So you follow him.
It’s peaceful, walking in the woods with him. He treads more carefully than you’d expected from that first twig snap. He seems to enjoy the sounds of nature as much as you do, maybe even more. He leads you through the thinning trees towards the edge of the lake.
He stops suddenly behind the last big tree before the clearing, pulling you around to stand in front of him. He holds a finger to his lips and leans down until his head is right next to yours. He guides your eyeline with his finger, directing your gaze to a tall white bird standing at the water’s edge.
Your heart pounds. You’re not sure if it’s because of his warm body pressed close against your back and the tickling breath brushing across your neck, or from the sight of a new bird you’d never expected to see.
“Is that…?”
“A great egret.”
“But they’re coastal birds. There’s hardly any in the state at all.” You keep your voice to a barely audible whisper, but he seems to have no trouble picking it up. You idly wonder if he can also pick up the sound of your heart beating wildly in your chest.
“There’s a single nesting pair who come here around this time of year.” His voice is so low, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I thought it might make a nice addition to your list. I didn’t see it on there.”
As he pulls away from you, a nervous grin blooms on his face. His hand drifts up to rub at the back of his neck again. It’s endearing, how sweet and gentle he is. How eager he is to make up for his mistake. And how excited he seems about the wildlife in the forest.
You pull out your notebook, adding the great egret to your list. Your phone buzzes in your pocket just as you tuck the notebook away, and you grimace. It’s your alarm, it’s time to go home. With a sigh, you stand on your toes and press your lips to Alan’s cheek in a friendly—if impulsive— kiss.
“Thank you, Alan.”
He watches you hurry back into the woods with a shaky exhale, fingers drifting up to his cheek. There’s so much more he wants to say. He wants to ask for your number. To ask if you’ll be back to look for birds again soon. To ask if you want to go to dinner. He wants to chase after you and offer to walk you back to your car.
But it’s all he can do to let his knees give out and lean against the tree, hearts in his eyes. He will see you again. He’ll make sure of it.
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If I may offer some horny: since mer Ratchet grew up in captivity, Drift probably has to show him how two mers mating actually works :3c
-v3nth
yesssss that's what i was thinking too. Ratchet wouldn't have been in contact with many mers over the years, perhaps only a couple which needed some quick re-socializing and then were sent into a different facility immediately after, so he never would have mated with anyone before and since he's basically a cybertronian with a tail, he doesn't even know the intricate rituals needed to initiate mating…
So when Drift starts circling him in a strange pattern, Ratchet wouldn't be aware of what's happening at first, though his frame's instincts would respond by mimicking the motions. mhmmm maybe Drift laughs and asks him if he knows what he's doing, and Ratchet has to swallow his pride and admit that he doesn't. Drift definitely stumbles over his words as starts explaining the importance of mating dances between mers… he's never before had to explain it, it was always so very natural where he's from, it's hard to put into words. But Ratchet is a quick learner with some patience and long ago buried instincts coming up onto the surface, he is more than capable of following Drift's lead in the initiation…
It's when they lower to the floor of the enclosure, tails pressed tightly together, the two of them slowly wading in the water, that the real fun begins. Drift's extended spike rubs against the slit in Ratchet's tail, making it throb and quiver with need, and soon enough the metallic scales pull back to reveal Ratchet's spike and valve. He tries so hard to keep quiet, but he's basically a virgin and it's difficult to handle this degree of pleasure without at least a whimper. When Drift slips his spike inside of him, lodging himself in the tight heat, Ratchet grabs him tightly and thinks he'll never let go again… good, that's just the reaction Drift needs to properly pump him full of his pups, and he lets him know that. Attached to one another they slowly roll through the enclosure, tails flapping in excitement… Once Ratchet had been fertilized they just roll slowly in a circle, trying to shake off the aftershocks of their respective overloads, bits of transfluid trailing behind them as Ratchet struggles to hold it all in, valve twitching around Drift's still pressurized spike. Obviously a single load isn't gonna bring them pups, they're gonna have to keep on going until they're both a sputtering mess <333
#valveplug#merformers#pregnancy mention#virginity kink#kind of sort of#dicreetely googles sharks mating#texty
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reading through your hinote tags it was interesting to learn that Raf still likes preforming and even misses playing large shows, but avoids getting sucked back into it. As an adult, you'd think he could just return to preforming on his own terms and play any stage he wants. Does a fear of success keeps him away from it? Sorry if this was already explained somewhere and I missed it.
Sssorta haha! He doesn't want to gain too much traction and attract media attention, because it'll inevitably liken his current career/his current self to his past...And almost none of the things he had said about himself, very few of the views he presented in interviews and such, none of it was really him, what he believed, what he liked, or how he, himself, wanted to be perceived. He likes playing the character on stage, but hates the notion of that character following him and being projected onto him in day to day life.
On one hand, he doesn't want random people to see him and know him accurately--which is why the stage persona is so great. But on the other hand, the media personality his mother curated is too far removed from his own tastes and sensibilities, that it feels like an ill-fitting skin and makes him physically uncomfortable to be identified as and associated with it.
Increased visibility as a performer would kinda force him to contend with that in a way he really would rather not. It's not worth it for him. AND he does not want to attract his family's attention. He doesn't want them contacting him about his career. He wants to be as tiny and invisible to them as possible.
Secondly, and more acutely, though--his symptoms after a show--any show--really suck. He gets nervous leading up to a performance, but it's usually perfectly manageable. He's normally in relatively good spirits about it. Then on stage, he gets a nice little thrill and the feeling of "man, yeah! I need to let myself do this more often!"
But then, once the show is over, he's in the backstage bathroom vomiting, and spends the next week struggling to recover from a depressed hangover with 0 motivation, energy, or excitement for anything. He hasn't...figured out how to avoid this extremely consistent pattern. It's weird, because he feels fine during the performance, even if there's a break in between or some such. But as soon as it's properly over, the nerves hit him hard--and once the anxiety passes, he's just an exhausted, deflated, apathetic husk with a very, very low mood about it.
That's what kinda keeps him off the stage, and prevents him from doing shows on any kind of consistent basis. He can only really commit to doing them if he's feeling really good about things--and if he can afford the inevitable "crash" week that always follows. If that were less of an ailment for him, he might be more inclined to at least humor the idea of reinventing his persona and returning to musical performance on a more serious/professional/consistent basis.
Alas.
#when he was a kid the performance was always the easiest part to get through#The real stress came from the post-show criticisms lectures and...general fallout between him and his mother specifically.#it was never a celebration or a congratulation esp. as he entered his teen years.#The most nerve wracking/discouraging work began once the curtains had closed.#Almost 2 decades of that and the body just kinda...goes through the motions now#regardless of the fact that there are no post-performance lectures or 'practices' or what have you anymore.#Theoretically he COULD just relax and sleep after a show if he wants but lmao his brain hasn't caught up with that reality yet.#Hi-Note#Rafael
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Priest RZK? Priest RZK. That's some gourmet shit right there. Discuss.
Hi 👀
Ah yes. The age old brainrot of Priest RZK which is still going strong, caused by the infamous music video which also brought us, apart from a very fabulous Richard, a suave Monk-Olli and yet another Schneider with a puppy-moment, which still causes people to lose it every other day:
Now, to examine this fascination with Priest RZK properly, it's somewhat important to look at some general and at some more specific points regarding the attraction to priests and men of the church:
First and foremost, they're meant to be celibate (at least in the catholic church, which is my point of view here). They're actually unattainable and off limits as a romantic and/or sexual partner since they vowed loyalty and love to the church and are definitely not meant to stray from this path in any way. Which kind of, if we use theological terms here, makes them some kind of 'forbidden fruit' so to speak.
-> If a priest, who vowed to be celibate, desires someone, it can become a test of his vocation, which can have life-altering consequences, emotional turmoil, unrequired longing and love and maybe ultimately even a secret affair - a whole lot of potential drama, which can be quite a thrill for some people.
They are (or should be in the best case) there for people in need. Listening to concerns, giving out advice, keeping secrets to themselves and overall representing some form of (fatherly) confidant and advisor, most of the time in one-on-one conversations - roles which can become quite loaded with emotion and emotional intimacy, so to speak.
-> Priests can be (for some religious women, like here) an embodiment for care and security, like a safe dream vision to project inner longings on without running the risk of being disappointed (since acting on these feelings is out of question).
In the linked articled above, a survey among catholic women gathered the following typical traits for a priest in women's eyes: 'different to other men’, he ‘pays attention to me’, ‘listens to me’, is ‘sensitive’ and ‘intelligent’; thus oftentimes traits these women miss in their own lives/relationships. Attraction to priests can point in the direction of "a search for both alternative models of masculinity and alternative experiences of male authority" (especially for women who suffered under these social structures, but not only) - a man which moves outside of the common norms and male behaviour patterns.
Regarding Richard, I can imagine that the following thoughts might come into play when it comes to the insane attraction of the concept of him as a priest:
Richard in priest robes looks so good, so modest and serious, and so wrong. Since we kind of know he's not the most steady person regarding relationships and definitely does not live anywhere near the realms of celibacy, this contrast between his way of life and that of a priest can be quite alluring and in my mind creates the picture of a somehow corrupt and opportunistic priest, which absolutely does not help. (Not thinking about him piously celebrating mass and then making you drop to your knees in the confessional 5 minutes later, nope)
Richard is a great listener and very interesting and interested conversation partner, so he would make a great priest regarding giving out advice and listening to problems and sorrows. To confide in him in a private setting, only for the situation to turn out like this is a brainrot which accompanies me for quite some time now 👍🏼
The terminology of adressing him. Quoting 'Fleabag' here:
This (or to be the reason the poor priest has to turn to drastic measures to keep his desires in check, what a dream):
Conclusion: Every day, we stray further away from God on here and do so in lightning speed 👌🏼
#rammstein#richard kruspe#ask#this ask was a wild ride i am so sorry#what a day to be a catholic#i probably shouldn't say out loud that I studied religious pedagogy at university
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Head Over Heels
PAIRING: timeskip!Azumane Asahi x fem!reader
GENRE: smut (18+)
Minors DNI
TAGS + WARNINGS: oral (f receiving, implications of m receiving), cum eating, praise kink, hair-pulling
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
SUMMARY: Being your husband’s personal model is both a blessing and a curse. All characters are 18+
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
Azumane shouldn’t be as fidgety as he is. This was technically your idea, after all, and he can’t say no to you. It’s the balance he needs, he supposes: he has his ideas while you have the enthusiasm to help him follow through. Not that he can’t complete tasks without you. He’s grown since high school; however, compared to you, he’s got more mountains to climb to reach your confidence level. Until then, the former ace is forever grateful for your support and trusts you more than he can express.
He shouldn’t be as fidgety as he is, yet, here he is, leg bouncing as he waits for you to return.
The loose thread on his crewneck keeps him distracted to the best of its abilities until the door opens. Azumane’s head shoots up at the light creaking of the hinges, and his eyes widen when he sees you standing before the entrance with a hand on your hip.
Despite being in his profession for quite some time, the brunet never designed lingerie before. It’s almost ridiculous: he’s worked with models, measuring them and adjusting the clothes to fit their body type, even if it meant he’d witness some exposed skin, yet it’s some lacy undergarments that get him flustered. And they’re on you, no less, his loving wife.
“Told you I’d look good,” you grin. Of course, you do. Picking the colour was the easiest part of the process; not only was it your favourite, but it complimented your skin, a quick attention-grabber that’ll lead to the finer details. The lace, a floral pattern, blends into the thin fabric as well as leaves its mark on your skin, hugging any fat it can lay on. And the long socks–those were your idea–were the perfect touch, held up with garnets and letting your thighs spill out from the embrace. The last factor he notices is one left unplanned, at least by him. “Remembered I had these in our closet and thought they’d complete the look.”
Simple black stilettos adorn your feet: your favourite pair. With how they look with your get-up, they’re Azumane’s favourite, too.
Remembered, you say. Please: you’re trying to give your poor husband a heart attack.
“You look amazing, honey,” he stammers, a nervous smile appearing on his pink face. “But, you know, the idea was to create something new for work, and those heels–again, you’re beautiful as always–are kinda old, fashion-wise.”
His sentence trails into silence as his eyes look at anything but you. His words don’t bother you in the slightest, and he’d know this if he saw the smug expression on your face. You’d feel guilty for teasing if his reactions didn’t bubble something within you every time.
“Yeah, I figured,” you shrug, making your way towards your husband at his desk chair. The room is dedicated to all his creations, and while he manages to keep his workspace rather tidy, walking towards him takes a bit more effort than necessary. It doesn’t make him any less flustered, though. “Shouldn’t you be looking at your work to make sure it properly fits the model?”
Azumane gulps, his eyes hesitantly trailing forward to where you stand before him with your arms crossed. Anywhere below your neck has his face in flames, though he’s not sure meeting your gaze would fix the problem, either.
“I made sure the measurements were accurate,” he utters bashfully, adjusting his glasses, “but if something doesn’t feel right….”
Your lids droop as the corners of your lips further twitch upwards. It never takes much to get the brunet bending over backwards for you, regardless of how meaningless the task may appear. He’d do anything to make his precious wife happy, not that you ever aren’t. With how often you like to toy with him, you’d think he’d eventually refrain from letting your games affect him the way they do. Maybe he likes this dynamic more than he lets on.
“As a matter of fact,” you drawl, lifting yourself to sit on his desk before spreading your legs, “I could use some adjustments.”
“O-Oh,” is all Azumane can muster as his gaze locks on your clothed cunt. Everything is choking him, from his loose crewneck to his sweats. Vermillion travels from his face to his ears and neck as each second ticks by with nothing but his heart echoing in his ears to fill the silence. Then your hand is on his wrist, bringing it up between your thighs and having his fingers press against the wet patch on the thin cotton.
“It’s a little tight down here,” you hum, feigning concern. Releasing your hold and letting his arm drop, you then lift one of your legs to settle your foot between the brunet’s thighs, the pointed tip of your stiletto barely grazing his growing bulge. The effect you have on him makes you smirk, and you watch intently as his fallen hand rises to caress your ankle. With a satisfied hum, you move your panties aside to reveal your soaked cunt to your husband’s hungry gaze. “Care to help?”
He can only respond in actions, doing so by removing his glasses and wrapping his arms around your thighs while leaning forward, sliding his chair forward in the process. The first lick across your pussy makes Azumane moan lowly. His next movements are languid, tasting whatever you have to offer; whenever your hips twitch, he gains more confidence. Soon, he’s no longer cleaning you with his tongue, but actively searching for more of your essence, lips pressed against your cunt as he explores inside you.
Your husband feels you free his hair from its bun as you adjust your legs on his shoulders, letting it cascade down his back in soft waves. An inconvenience if it weren’t for you grabbing handfuls of his locks and lightly tugging with every bolt of pleasure.
“Always so good for me,” you moan, letting your eyes flutter closed. “My pretty baby.”
With the combination of your praise and the burning of his scalp, Azumane keens. His attention goes to your puffy clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and flicking it with the tip of his tongue as his goatee brushes against your cunt. The sensation is dizzying, forcing your jaw slack as silent mewls tumble out. Your hips grind in tandem with his mouth, setting a rhythm that soon has your thighs quivering.
You tug at his locks harshly this time, causing your husband to groan against you once more. Even from your angle, you can tell he’s getting restless, his hips lightly grinding along to his set pace despite his tongue’s somewhat languid movements. One of your stilettos stays on by your toes, threatening to drop with one wrong move, not that you care anymore. Your orgasm is just on the horizon; chasing it is only natural.
“So good for me,” you sigh hazily. “Always making me pretty clothes and treating me right. You like having me as your personal model?”
You’re answered with a deep groan and a faster pace, Azumane’s grip on your thighs tightening as you lean back to rest on your forearms. He doesn’t have time to miss your hold on his hair, instead focusing on his goal of making you come undone.
“Asahi,” you gasp. “Gonna cum soon. Need you to take me there, baby. Need you so bad.”
Yeah, you do. He’s never going to make you work for your pleasure again. Sit on his face, straddle his thigh while he moves your hips, spread your legs while he splits you in half: it’s his job where your cries and orgasms are his paychecks and being your husband is the ultimate promotion.
Both of your brains draw blanks: you from your soaring release, and he, from your essence’s invasion of his tastebuds. Either way, you ascend the heavens together.
And when you float down from the clouds, Azumane’s there to catch you. With his arms around your torso, he holds you in a gentle embrace, allowing your body to fall limp.
“I’ve got you, honey,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t you always?” you snicker tiredly, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Your hand finds its place back in his hair, this time gently raking your fingers through his locks. “You always make the prettiest stuff. Not just saying that ‘cause I love you.”
You pull away from his hold slowly. Azumane’s face still glows a pinkish hue, his lips and chin shining with the light from his desk lamp. You swipe your thumb across his goatee, barely cleaning it of your mess. His eyes trail down to your body, or rather, the thin material barely covering it.
“Even so,” he begins, his tone becoming sheepish, “I might need to wash this one before bringing it to work. Or just make a new one altogether.”
You don’t need to follow his attention to know what he’s talking about; you can feel it, the slick connecting the panties to your crotch. You shiver.
He takes his time with you, neither of you being a fan of rushing through the more intimate moments. One of your heels seems to have fallen from your foot; when, you don’t remember. For now, though, your husband’s hand trails down your leg, slowly sliding down to remove your other stiletto. You haven’t worn them for long, though having them off makes you exhale with satisfaction.
“You always take good care of me, you know that?” you whisper.
Azumane chuckles. “I sure hope so.”
When you catch his gaze after he places the shoes aside, you find nothing but pure adoration pooling in the deep brown depths of his irises. You return the love with a smile. Once your legs stop shaking, that smile morphs into a smirk. The former ace doesn’t miss it.
“Always taking such good care of me,” you muse, lightly pushing his chest as you dismount the desk. The brunet stumbles before landing on his chair, his eyes wide with fear and anticipation as you now loom over him. The bulge in his pants is as prominent as ever, and you slowly drop to your knees before him to palm his erection. Your eyes never leave him, and he shivers. “Let me take care of you this time.”
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
#fanfic#fanfiction#hq#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu!!#smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#karasuno#asahi azumane#azumane asahi#asahi smut#asahi x reader
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Lost (04)
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Au: Underground boxer! Jungkook, Coach’s daughter! OC
Genre: angst, smut and fluff.
Warnings: some fight scenes, smut.
Rating: 18+
Summary: Jungkook doesn’t know much about you provided for the fact that you’re his coach’s daughter. But soon, his feelings of indifference turn into that of dislike.
Word Count: 4K+ words
A/N: The language they converse in isn't important, however, just putting it out that they indeed converse in Korean.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi
If you want early access to the next part of lost and to all of my other fics, head over to my Patreon page. I have only recently opened my Patreon page, so please show me some support. 🤗
The next morning, you wake up in your bed.
The moment your eyes open, you're greeted with a heavy feeling in your chest. For a very short period of time, your brain remains unresponsive and clueless as to why you're feeling the way you're feeling. But soon it all clicks and the memories of last night come rushing back.
You sigh, feeling too tired to feel the pain and humiliation you know you will if you were to allow yourself to replay the events of last night. Hence, you decide to not let yourself repeat the scene in your head as you head towards the washroom. In a way, it's almost as if you're not letting yourself feel the emotions that your mind wants you to process. But you're too exhausted to hold a debate about whether that's healthy or not.
Once you're done freshening up, you wear your clothes for your shift at the cafe. When it's time for you to head out, you hesitate just for a second before you open the door to the living room.
It's only silence that greets you. You should have known. It's not uncommon for you to find the house empty. If anything, it would be weird if you were to find either of your parents in the house, greeting you with a good morning like every other normal household.
Sighing, you walk towards the shoe rack but much to your surprise, a soft and warm voice calls for your name.
The sound of your name causes you to squeak and you turn around to look at whoever it is that just caused your heart rate to spike by hundred.
Upon turning around, you're met with two warm brown eyes which shine with amusement at your scared form. Two brown eyes, you recognise to be your family cook's.
"Laura," you place your hands on your heaving chest to calm yourself down. "You scared me."
"My apologies, I did not intend to." She smiles at you, amusement now replaced with a tender look in her eyes. "Now, come I have made you breakfast, you're not leaving home on an empty stomach. You will get weak that way."
Your first instinct is to deny because you're not in the mood of eating at all. Although you try not to think about your issues, there's still that continuous churning in your stomach that reminds you there's a lot of negative emotion you haven't processed properly. A lot, you honestly, don't know how to process. That feeling in your gut doesn't make food sound appealing at all.
But then something inside you stops you from uttering the no that is on your lips. It's the part of you that doesn't have the heart to deny the very first person, who at least bothered to take notice of you and asked you to have your food.
It's just that longing for the minimum acknowledgement that has you nodding your head to Laura's previous question with a smile on your face, that radiates the same amount of tenderness as the one in her eyes.
You will take whatever you get, from whoever is willing to give.
She doesn't say much as she swiftly turns around and heads to the large dining table. You take it as your cue to do the same and follow her. She pulls out a chair for you to sit on and then arranges the plates in front of you. She then disappears for a few moments, for what you assume is to bring food from the kitchen.
You're simply running your fingers across the patterns of the table cloth when you smell it.
Lemon ricotta pasta.
Your eyes widen in excitement and you snap your head towards the kitchen entrance, where you assume the aroma is coming from. At the very same moment, Laura comes and much to your delight, she is indeed carrying a bowl of your favourite type of pasta.
She chuckles at your excited form and the big smile that's on your face.
"You cooked lemon ricotta pasta?" You exclaim, your mind narrowly focused on the fact that you are going to have one of your favourite dishes in your breakfast. You're so happy that you forget about everything that has been bothering you in recent days.
"I did," she replies as she serves pasta on your plate. "I hope you like it."
Well, if you were to go by the way it looks and smells, you already like it.
She sprinkles some chilli flakes on the top. "Your mom told me that this is your favourite."
Your mind abruptly stops working for a second. "Mom knows I like this?"
"Of course, she does. She gave me a list of foods that you enjoy." She chuckles.
Once again, you find yourself being speechless. "She did?"
She nods. "She also told me to not cook any of your favourite dishes for you until you're well settled. She was worried that it would take your body some time to adjust to the weather in Busan. Just so that your immunity doesn't become weak, she suggested you eat healthy, nutritional food. And we all know that the ones you like aren't exactly healthy."
Despite the storm of emotions that rage through you, you find yourself letting out a chuckle. The kind of food you like, is indeed not healthy, aka greasy as fuck.
But that chuckle soon subsides when you realise, you don't exactly know what you feel. You feel a certain warmth bloom through your chest, of course. Your mom cares for you. The thought itself is enough to make your day.
In theory, you always did know that she cares for you but the number of times you have felt being cared for is a handful. Which is why, you always treated the moments when you felt that you're cared for, very close to your heart. This being one of those.
With that warmth, there's also this bitterness that spreads through you because you have no idea what your mom's favourite dishes are. Or your dad's for a fact. All you know is that your mom likes spicy dishes but what in particular, you have zero clues.
It's not like you have never asked them. But it was once, years ago. You don't know if they still like those dishes or what other new dishes they have tried in the last few years, that they found good enough to be added to the list.
You never asked them again, because how many questions can someone ask over the phone? You can ask about their favourite dishes but then what about their favourite movie? Their favourite artist? Their favourite song? What about their dislikes?
Most of these things aren't asked, they are observed. Which again, you never got the chance to do.
The new mixed feelings added to the exhaustion you feel from the events of last night, has you focusing on the food instead, in an attempt to distract yourself. Taking a bite, you hum in delight.
"This is so good." Your brows furrow in concentration. The food tastes so good that you find yourself genuinely distracted. You haven't had this for a long time now, and this surely is a treat for your tastebuds.
"I'm glad you like it."
"Thank you so much for taking the time to make this for me." You say after swallowing down a huge bite.
"You don't have to thank me." She shakes her head. "Anytime you feel like eating something just come to me. I'll try and see if I can make it for you."
You mumble another thank you and keep the you're too sweet to yourself. You don't know if it would be weird to say that to someone you're only talking to for the first time. You don't want to express how touched you are by her words because you don't know if she will find it weird. You never thought these small gestures would make you so emotional someday. More than anything, you don't want to mess up by over welcoming yourself. You did that with the whole boxing practice thing and someone aka Jungkook clearly wasn't fond of it. What if-
Something snaps inside you.
You shake your head to yourself in frustration. This is not the time to think about Jungkook. You can't let him get to you every time. This is a good moment, Laura is clearly not like Jungkook. Most importantly, you feel good. You cannot let thoughts of Jungkook ruin it for you.
Jungkook was rude to you, and that's on him.
Sure, his words still hurt because he despises you for the mistakes you made. Mistakes. Especially, mistakes you made while trying to fit in. You are also sure that if he were to, again, be rude to you, you'd be hurt. Although, maybe not as much as you initially were. That's because now you have an idea of what Jungkook is like, so his words probably won't come off as a surprise to you. Now, you know what to expect from him.
And honestly, you don't want anything to do with him.
But the question is how long are you going to let it affect you? How long are you going to react to his words?
You simply don't want to keep reacting to his words anymore. Because when you do, your happy moments are ruined by the feelings of hurt he has caused.
How do you stop reacting though?
That is a question you will need some time to figure out the answer to. For the time being you settle for taking a deep breath and finish the food on your plate. When you're done, you rest the spoon on your plate and look up at Laura.
"Laura?" You call out.
"Hmm?" Laura glances at you and notices that you are done eating. "Do you want some more?"
"Ah, no," you shake your head. "I just wanted to thank you for making pasta. It's very sweet of you."
She gives you a sweet smile. "You don't have to thank me for that. I'm just glad you enjoyed it."
You nod at her with your smile broadening.
This feels nice.
You said what you wanted to say. You didn't let your fears stop you. You did it for yourself. You didn't let Jungkook's words, which your mind has quite honestly been obsessed with, stop you.
This sure feels nice.
The day at the cafe is busy.
There is a steady flow of customers and the whole place is bustling with no empty seats. You find yourself being occupied with the long line of people as you're currently in charge of taking down their orders.
But you kind of enjoy it, enjoy being busy and occupied. That way, your mind isn't wandering to places. Plus, the low murmur that is spread throughout the cafe is kind of nice. Makes you feel a little less lonely.
You also enjoy taking glimpses of the people who are sitting in the cafe. It's like a window to their lives.
In the extreme right corner are sat two kids with their dad. You observe the way the younger boy explains something very animatedly to his slightly older sister and find it endearingly cute. Their dad is nodding along aggressively so that his son knows that he's listening to him. A few tables in front of them, sits a young lady, probably just a few years older than you. She looks lost in whatever it is that is on her computer screen. Maybe she's reading a story. Maybe she's doing some office work. Maybe she's simply thinking something and has zoned out from the letters on the screen. Whatever it is, it seems important enough that she doesn't notice the plate of cookies that are being placed in front of her and the waitress has to call her twice, to gain her attention. A few feet away from her table seats a man who is probably in his forties and at the moment, he seems interested in gazing out of the glass walls.
Your eyes move back to the computer screen in front of you as the person who was next in line, recites his order.
That's what you like about this job. You can just take a glimpse at people in between taking orders or serving. For some odd reason, you enjoy it a lot. It's like you're working but then after every minute or two, you also get to allow your mind to venture here and there about the people around you. It feels nice almost like you're taking a break in between orders and serving when you can.
It's around fifteen minutes and a few orders later that you look up from your computer screen to greet the next person in line, but when you notice who the person is, your smile fades.
Jimin.
God, your day has been nice, please don't get it ruined.
"Hello, Y/N," he greets, with a smile that you can tell is genuine, which puts you slightly at ease. He also, seems completely unaffected by the way your smile faded the moment you saw him.
"Hey," you say a little hesitantly, not knowing how to act around him after last night.
"Can I have two lattes please?"
At his words, you feel a certain amount of relief spread through your body. He's possibly here only for the coffee. You nod and type away on your computer. "Sure, that would be 12,947 Won."
Jimin fishes for his wallets and pays for the order. "I know it might not be the best time but can I talk to you for a moment?"
Well fuck. You spoke too soon.
Before you can politely decline him and give the busy day as an excuse, Linda appears out of nowhere and gently nudges you such that she now has access to the keyboard and the computer screen.
"Go talk to him. I'll take care of the orders meanwhile," she doesn't stop there but also shoots you a suggestive wink, one which is subtle enough so that Jimin doesn't catch it.
Oh god.
Did she think something was going on between you and Jimin? If you were to go by the wink, she probably does. But you decide that's a conversation you'll have with her later. Clarifying it in front of Jimin might just be weird.
You sigh and give her a nod before you're exiting the counter and pushing the separator so that you can make your way to where Jimin is standing.
Jimin gives you another one of his smiles but this time he looks nervous. As odd as it is, the nervous smile somehow soothes you a little bit because now you know you're not the only one who's feeling that way.
"I just wanted to apologise for yesterday."
Now that catches you off guard.
You were a bit cautious of what Jimin had to say to you. You know Jimin is a much nicer and friendlier guy than Jungkook but you were somewhat embarrassed to face him after yesterday. After all, you did get treated as if you're a good-for-nothing person in front of him. Albeit, Jimin's drunk self was nice to you but even then, you still felt embarrassed and awkward talking to him.
But out of all things, you weren't expecting him to apologise to you.
Your reaction to his apology is stuttering.
Looking at your expression, which most likely screams that you don't know what to say, Jimin decides on explaining exactly what he is sorry for. "Listen, I don't know what I was thinking knocking at your door at three in the morning. I don't have an excuse for my behaviour except for the fact that I was drunk-"
His apology speech gets cut off by a snort that escapes your lips. It is very unlike you, to find something hilarious in a situation like this, where you are completely caught off guard. But something about his words has you reacting that way without giving it much thought.
The moment you realise what you had done, you tense up and you're ready to apologise for being insincere when he was apologising to you so sincerely. But then he beats you to it.
"Anything funny about what I said?" Jimin asks with his brows furrowed. You'd think that what you feared was true and that your slip had offended him, had it not been for the way he tries a little too hard to look offended.
That extra hard frown of his paired with the playfulness in his orbs is enough for you to know that he isn't offended at all. So you allow yourself to relax a little and a small grin appears on your lips.
"It's just that it sounds like you're apologising for cheating on someone."
That catches Jimin off guard and he starts to replay his words in his mind. You see the very moment it clicks in his mind and a shy, almost embarrassed smile appears on his lips.
"I did sound like that, didn't I?" He mumbles.
You nod with a chuckle. "Don't worry about it. I get that you were drunk. Your apology has been accepted."
Jimin sighs in relief but he looks like he has got something more to say.
You watch the hesitance play on his face before he finally decides to just go for it. "I'd also like to apologise on Jungkook's behalf. He had no right doing what he did, yesterday-"
"You don't have to apologise for something you never did." You interrupt him before he can continue because Jimin has no reason to apologise for the asshole-ery his friend displayed. And perhaps, you also cut him off because Jimin continuing with his words only reminds you of the incidents of last night.
Jimin chews on his lips and casts his gaze on the floor. "I know but still, I'm sure he feels bad too for what he did."
Once again, you snort. This time, it's a bit sarcastic.
"You don't have to lie. I might not have known Jungkook for long, but I know him enough to know that he isn't sorry for what he did."
Jimin still has that look which gives the impression that he has more to say, but this time he decides otherwise, much to your relief.
"So, if I am forgiven and all is good, can we be friends?" He queries with a small shy grin.
The question surprises you but when your brain slowly catches up with his words, you feel a giddiness spread throughout you.
Are you finally going to have a friend here? Damn, today is a good day.
If your brain had hands, it would probably do a keyboard smash right now.
You try to keep your smile contained and try not to show exactly how excited you are to be friends with him (but you're sure you failed terribly at your attempt). "I'd love to be friends with you."
You notice Jimin's smile widening and his eyes disappearing to form crescents. "Great! Maybe if I converse with you, I will finally get good at English."
"Is that why you wanted to be friends with me?" You joke, with squinted eyes.
"Yes, indeed. But don't worry, in return, I'll take you to all the good places in Busan where you can get authentic Korean food." He winks, playing into your joke.
"Ah, so it's like I help you get better at English and you help me to get to know Busan better?"
He nods, trying to suppress his smile to give off a serious look. "Guess we are friends with benefits, now."
You make a disgusted face. "Gosh, I can tell you are cringe."
"Everyone is," he shrugs.
"True," you agree. "So, now tell me when do I get to taste authentic Korean food?" The excitement is palpable in your voice. You had always wanted to explore the city but with how your mood has been, you never had the energy to go out. But now that Jimin is more than willing to give you a tour of the city, you think it won't be as lonely as you'd imagined it to be.
Jimin hums. "Well, how about once the tournament ends? Would you be free then?"
Your eyes spark with surprise at his words. "The tournament hasn't ended yet?"
He shakes his head and lowers his volume so that the words are only audible to you. "Apparently the news of illegal boxing got around and police got involved. The tournament had to be paused temporarily until things got under control."
"Police?! Is it dangerous? This whole tournament thing? The people you all are involved with?" You whisper shout.
You are well aware that there must be some sort of danger involved. Had it not been the case, you wouldn't have been sent to Canada. But even then, you still do not have any idea as to what that amount of danger might be.
Jimin contemplates for a few moments before answering your question. "It can be dangerous."
"Can?" You prod.
He nods. "Yes, but I don't think it's a conversation appropriate for a place like this."
Your fingers fiddle with each other as you keep your curiosity in and give him a nod in return as if to say that you understand where he's coming from. However, there's one question that you end up asking when you know you probably shouldn't have.
"Do you think I can attend one of the matches?"
The moment the words leave your lips you see the surprised look that appears on his face as if he never expected you to ask that of all things. But the moment the surprise wears off, he shakes his head furiously. "There's no way. Your dad would never approve and honestly, I agree. It's not something you want to be a part of, trust me on that."
The words don't come off as a surprise. You already knew what the answer was going to be. But that doesn't mean you don't feel a bit dejected because you do really want to go to one of the matches just to know what the environment is like.
Jimin recognises the look on your face. "Don't be sad about it. I'll tell you everything in detail about the match. I'd have shown you videos but then recording is prohibited."
Somehow his words put a smile on your face. Knowing that he is willing to describe the match to you, for some reason means a lot. To add to that is how he answers your questions and acknowledges your curiosity, even when he doesn't necessarily understand where that curiosity is rooted from. It makes you feel oddly nice to know that there is someone you can talk to about the regular stuff as well as stuff that you have always felt, was prohibited for you to know about.
"Thank you, I'd appreciate that." You say with sincerity coating every word of yours.
"Always glad to help," he grins. It's then that his name is called for him to collect his order. "Ah, I think I should get going. Lord knows, Jungkook gets real cranky when he doesn't have coffee in his system."
"Here, I thought being cranky was his default mode." You blurt out before realising you were technically badmouthing Jimin's friend in front of him.
Before you can apologise and panic any further, Jimin laughs with his head thrown back and clutches his stomach. "Damn, I wish Jungkook was here to hear that. Would have served him right."
It's almost as if some higher power has heard his wishes because at that very moment Jungkook enters the shop, wondering what is taking Jimin so long. His eyes do a quick scan before landing on the two of you. The sight that he is greeted with, perplexes him to no end.
It's Jimin laughing extremely hard, the way he usually does and it's you standing a few steps away from Jimin with a small, easy smile playing on your lips. He doesn't know what the two of you are talking about and by the look of it, neither of you have noticed him.
He has long forgotten why he came here in the first place for there's one thought that currently has his whole attention.
Looks like his best friend and you, are friends now.
#Jungkook x Reader#jungkook fanfic#Jungkook angst#jungkook angst#fic: lost#Jungkook smut#Jungkook boxer au#Boxer Jungkook#underground boxer jungkook#enemies to lovers#jungkook#jungkook scenarios#BTS fics#bts drabble
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“Poison” and how it speaks to all types of abuse
Hi there! I’m posting again. This is a small analysis/commentary on how the song Poison from Hazbin Hotel describes not just sexual and drug abuse, but other types of abuse as well. If you haven’t seen Hazbin Hotel or haven’t heard the song, I’ve put a link to the song below. Even if you don’t watch the show the song is amazing and I highly recommend it. Note: this is not the official episode music video, which is triggering to people, this is the before episode release version.
I also made another post earlier on my opinions on episode 4 of Hazbin Hotel. Give it a read!
youtube
Ok, so I’m going to cover some very specific lines and moments in the song. The majority of my analysis focuses on verse two and the the final verse.
This song at its core is about abuse. Angel Dust’s type of abuse is a combination of largely S/A along with physical and verbal Abuse by his pimp Valentino. But if you analyze these lyrics, this song speaks to all types of abuse and abuse victims and/or survivors, except for a few lines that are highly specific depending on situations. I’m going to focus on how this song can speak to domestic abuse victims, myself specifically. If you do not feel comfortable hearing about the following triggers then please scroll on and have a good day. You have been warned.
So context before I get into this: I was raised with a mentally ill parent as well as victim of my other parent’s former Fiance who also verbally and emotionally abused but the two of us. My mentally ill parent suffers from untreated unconventional borderline personality disorder, known as BPD. My other parent’s ex Fiance suffers from grandiose narcissistic personality disorder, known as NPD. I am no longer in contact with the ex Fiance and have no plans to see them ever again. However, I am still suffering from my parent with BPD, specifically over the holiday. We had a major fight because they believe my other parent is truly the abuser in their reality and by taking their side, I was starting to abuse them as well. This has caused me to (at least temporarily) cut off the unhealthy parent and live with the other one full time. And the unhealthy parent is a master at verbal, emotional and psychological manipulation.
Now getting onto the actual song:
Whenever I listen to the back half of verse 1 into the first chorus, I really relate to the lyrics through personal experience. It starts at the following line:
“I shoulda known that this would happen,
“I shoulda known it when I looked into your red-hot eyes
“Spewin’ all your red hot lies”
Now let’s go back to the lyrics and how it relates to me. As part of their BPD, this is especially true, and true for those who are involved with family/spouses/loved ones who are verbally and emotionally abusive. I believe any person who has different under an abuser will relate to this simple like. At some point we know the pattern, we know the signs for when we “fucked up” as it were. And we know at some point, consciously or unconsciously, that our abuser is lying.
“What’s the worst part of this hell?
“I can only blame myself.”
This line can be relatable depending on the type abuse you suffer from. In Angel’s case, he signed his soul away (literally) to his abuser. In a way I do that with my abuser every time I choose to go see them and enter that unhealthy environment. The problem for me personally is that BPD does have patterns but I find myself surprised and shocked by them. Know that now I am doing research to try and learn how to properly deal with family members with BPD, but that personality disorder does not excuse the abuse I suffer from t I’ll his parent. Mental illness is NOT an excuse for inflicting abuse, even if it’s as complex or rarely treated like BPD. But every time I go back into that environment I can only blame myself for entering that hell willingly again. Because despite the pain I know they will inflict upon me at some point, I still love my abuser. I imagine this is a similar mindset to what other victims of domestic abuse feel as well. We walk back to our abusers, usually choosing to because we still love our abuser and hope they’ll change and this time they’re telling the truth.
But that’s usually not the case.
“Cause I know you’re poison,
“You’re feeding me poison
“Addicted to this feeling I can’t help but swallow up your poison
“I made my choice and
“Every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow.”
In my situation I relate to this line INCREDIBLY hard. It’s not just my unstable parent who is abusive. That side of my family has a long cycle of generational abuse that I am trying to break away from. But because I grew up in that situation, despite now knowing how bad and unhealthy it is, it’s what I’m used to. And unfortunately, I am used to or addicted to that chaos. For the past few months I have lived with my healthier parent and during that time, I have developed a non-chaotic, healthy lifestyle. Growing up everything was constantly shifting and changing based on the needs/wants of my unhealthy parent, since I was predominantly in their custody in my youth. Because of this, I grew up used to that chaos, considering it normal and fine, until I was shown another alternative by my other parent when they filed for custody and finally got rid of their own abusive fiancé. But because of the way I grew up, I became used to the chaos, and every time I go back to visit my abusive parent, I run the risk of falling under their spell. And unfortunately, more often than not, I do fall for it. And when I do fall for it, I fall into survival mode once again. This means that in a sense I’m “living like there’s no tomorrow”, like Angel. I don’t think about the consequences of anything other than escalating the situation, of making sure I make it out of there without some sort of fight or confrontation.
“I got so good at being untrue,
“I got so good at telling you what you want to hear,
“I disassociate disappear”
When I enter this survival mode, as I’m sure many other abuse victims and survivors do, I tend to lose myself for a time. I become someone else in order to be who my abuser wants me to be. In my personal case, I end up regressing to a smaller helpless child (not literally, but my body language does, as an unhealthy form of self soothing, being untrue and becoming who they want me to be: someone they control. I tell them what they want to hear, usually that they are right or that their pain is valid and nothing is their fault because they are the victim (which in my parent’s case of BPD is a reality that they ACTUALLY believe). Half the time when my abuser parent is tearing into me or trying to make me feel guilty or into he the bad guy (with depressingly frequent success rates), I tend to enter a sort of humble stage. I disassociate until it’s my turn to speak. I disappear for a while until it’s safe to come back out and say or do something. And when I do disassociate it’s awful. I lose small chunks of time. This has not happened yet outside of these instances of interaction with my abuser, thank goodness, but it is still dangerous to disassociate too often. I’m sure survivors of all types of abuse have disassociated at least once in their time with their abuser.
“So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.”
Since I grew up so used to this behavior and pattern, it is like fighting my own nature to try to stand up and not fall for the lies. It’s so hard because I still love my abuser but because of their illness and their refusal to acknowledge it or seek real treatment this pattern is unending. It’s hard to resist swallowing down the poison they force in my face and flood me with. In my case, unlike Angel, my form of poison is in a pool, slowly raising towards my mouth, and I struggle not to get it not. And I imaging that’s what most other victims of abuse also feel like. That physical, emotional, sexual, psychological abuse is a poison that if left unchecked or stayed near to long will eventually kill us, either minor abuser’s action or our own.(Note, at the end of this post I have posted links the contact information of various services to help people in these situations, at least for those in the United States). Angel’s situation is also like that too, but he’s also drugged and forced to take poison by Valentino.
“My story’s going to end with me dead from your poison.”
This line hit me hardest out of everything in the song. During the latest fight with my parent, they tore into me overall and so brutally that for the first time in my life, I truly contemplated suicide as a better alternative. The verbal and mental poison they fed me for so long overwhelmed me and I felt myself wanting to die from it. I am not suicidal now, but it was an overwhelming feeling of pain, hopelessness, feeling trapped with no escape (at one point literally when I threatened to go drinking and they blocked the door, which is a tricky situation). If I hadn’t gotten out of then not already had the support system in place that I spend years setting up and learning to build, I may not be making this post right now. And there’s thousands of others like me who are still stuck in that pool of poison, but have already choked too much and succumbed to it. Never forget them.
“Poison, I’m sick of the poison,
“Im filling up my glass but it’s always hollow
“Full of poison, I’m sick of the poison,
“Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.”
And like Angel here, I’m sick of the poison as well, and every other abuse victim of any type can relate to this. At some point nothing helps anymore when you are stuck in the situation long enough. There’s no escape, and everything is hollow. There was a time when I was like this as well. My abuser had isolated me from nearly everyone else in my life save for my healthy parent, and it nearly broke me. But I found a reason to live for tomorrow at the time.
And I hope you can too. If you are reading this and relate to my story, or you heard this song and related to it in some way, then please know you are not alone. This song is not just a bop, it’s a real look at the kind of a severely abused victim that we don’t always see.
If you or your loved one are being by abused in some way, you are not alone. Here are some resources if you are in danger and need to call for help:
The Suicide Hotline: 988
The National Domestic Abuse Hotline:
The National Sexual Assault Hotline:
Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Parents
#hazbin hotel poison#hazbin hotel#tw s/a#tw verbal abuse#tw psychological abuse#tw domestic abuse#tw emotional abuse#discussions of abuse in detail#tw mental illness#tw mental health#tw bpd#Youtube
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so i’ve been looking through the role atlas since i read your post about the covers and so far i’ve seen a few interesting? things and so starting off with blonney
(in the arcanist magazine) her cover is worded differently compared to other arcanists. it says ‘an arcanist work’ instead of the usual ‘an arcanist’s work’. like the ‘a supernatural work’ thing you found. as we know, arcanist’s work pretty much means a pure-blood(?) arcanist, or at least brought to sentiency by an arcanist (in darley clatter’s case, to name one).
‘arcanist’s’ implies there being a creator of that arcanist, which would probably be their parents. but blonney’s only says ‘arcanist work’, so she fits into the category of an arcanist but it doesn’t mention anything about her ‘creator’. maybe she somehow acquired arcanum powers and was originally human? but then that would be in the infected’s territory now. (i don’t know blonney’s backstory so i don’t know if there’s an explanation found in it, but i might research it when it’s not in the middle of the night).
anyway, her exhibition thing is also worded differently. usually, it goes ‘exhibited in…’ etc etc, but hers says ‘first put on exhibit… remained on display…’. i think, for the rest, exhibited means how long they’ve lived, or at least something like that. that includes the possibility that they may have been reversed during the years they’ve lived in due to the storm, safely assuming that they have been affected by it, so the foundation can’t exactly track it properly. but based on the wording in blonney’s cover (‘remained on display’) it could mean that blonney hasn’t gone through a storm yet (again i dont know if its been proved or not because i didnt pay attention to the last event), so the foundation has pretty much been able to track her ‘exhibition’ and movements for the past years (1990s-2010s, it seems).
this is getting a bit long so im gonna have to cut it short here ! majority of this is just me spitballing and being incoherent at 10pm, methinks, but i want (no pressure) to hear your thoughts on this!
aand and and eating your art. your art and writing are very edible. i dine like a king whenever i see you post
oh hello and tysm for the ask, I love discussing this stuff!
I think I wrote that post the day before the release of the A Nightmare at Green Lake event, so I didn't take those characters' profiles into consideration! But now that you brought it up, I'm looking and comparing profiles, only the characters released during THAT event seem to have this small difference?
I don't have Jessica, but I do have the other three - so for reference, here's Horropedia and Tooth Fairy's profiles.
Their wording matches Blonney's, and looking at the fandom wiki's article for Jessica, she also seems to fall in line with this little change.
Overall, this seems to be a small mistake from the translation team, since no one else has this sort of wording?
I only have Diggers from the previous event to this one, the Theft of the Rimet Cup, but Pickles and Melania are consistent as well.
The same can be said for the current event, Journey to Mor Pakh.
Shamane releases in February, but I think we can assume his Cover profile will follow the same regular pattern as the rest.
I have to admit that I entirely ignored most of the Theft of the Rimet Cup event because the plot was extremely boring to me, so I can't talk about what happens in there in detail to start theorizing and whatnot - but I did read A Nightmare At Green Lake.
When first reading your ask, I thought that maybe there was a shared theme between the characters that could explain this little difference - like how in A Nightmare at Green Lake, the most prevalent theme is that of belonging.
In Blonney's case, she had to act as a human despite her arcanist heritage because of the benefits that came with a human identity, as well as the fact that she could play into the "dumb, blonde bimbo" stereotype and get away with anything because of her family's connections.
As for Horropedia, he was adopted by a human man - his grandfather who introduced him to horror movies - and a lot of his voicelines hint towards him not being able to fit in within the Foundation's standards and getting into a lot of trouble because of it, hence his admission into Vertin's group at the end of the event.
Jessica is implied to be a product of Zeno's crossbreeding between a "changeling" and a "North American deer woman" - being the only one of her kind, plus the fact that she only has critters to keep her company, cause her to be lonely and extremely attached to Blonney.
Tooth Fairy's specific backstory/event is a little blurry in my brain, but I remember that she comes from a very famous arcanist family - the Campbells - whose connections allowed Tooth Fairy to study something related to arcanists health? But she wasn't taken seriously and she discovered that her human mentor was corrupt, leading her to abandon that route and become a dentist for the Foundation (but feel free to correct me!)
So the shared theme of belonging was there, I could argue that hey, the wording is different because none of these characters' "creators" - in this sense, not exclusively biological but those in charge of them - are true arcanists. Blonney's parents faking their human status, Horropedia's human grandfather, Jessica's existence being a product of science gone wrong, Tooth Fairy's mentor being a corrupt human, etc.
But then, we find this exact type of character and themes in Journey to Mor Pahk - Kaalaa Bauna hides her status as an arcanist during her time at the university because she knows the stigma that she will face and how little respect arcanist related research gets. And even so, her profile follows the general one, instead of the ones from A Nightmare at Green Lake.
So with that whole thought out of my brain, for now I'm willing to believe that it's just one of the many little translation errors within the game.
Oh! And while I'm at it, in relation to the post you're referring to - this isn't related to the weird wording, but I said in that post that Lilya, specifically, had a very convoluted way of describing her time period that didn't match the other main characters who were alive and within the Foundation as the same time as her.
A few weeks after I posted that, me and some friends in a R1999 server started talking about that and turns out that Lilya DOES have a canon age in CN - she's 17. And in retrospect, I'm assuming that this specific change done to her Cover profile in global to obscure her age was done because of underage drinking issues, since she does drink and she gets drunk during one of the flashback boss battles - meaning she was even younger at that time.
#reverse 1999#reverse: 1999#reverse 1999 headcanons#i have to go to work in 5 minutes but ty for the ask really!#i never noticed that until now#i was also considering that the green lake characters are different because this is the only event SO FAR that involves vertin#as in. theres implications that this event happens AFTER the main story. since horropedia gets to join her#but i dont know enough about theft of the rimet cup to talk about that and i havent finished all of mor pakh#im thinking this is just a translation error#because they also patched up 'afflatus' with 'inspired by' recently
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